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THE HISTORY OF SUMATRA,
CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF
THE GOVERNMENT, LAWS, CUSTOMS, AND MANNERS
OF
THE NATIVE INHABITANTS,
WITH
A DESCRIPTION OF THE NATURAL PRODUCTIONS,
AND A RELATION OF THE
ANCIENT POLITICAL STATE OF THAT ISLAND.
BY
WILLIAM MARSDEN, F.R.S.
THE THIRD EDITION, WITH CORRECTIONS, ADDITIONS, AND PLATES.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR,
BY J. M'CREERY, BLACK-HORSE-COURT,
AND SOLD BY
LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, PATERNOSTER-ROW.
1811.
THE HISTORY OF SUMATRA.
CONTENTS.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
SITUATION.
NAME.
GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY, ITS MOUNTAINS, LAKES, AND
RIVERS.
AIR AND METEORS.
MONSOONS, AND LAND AND SEA-BREEZES.
MINERALS AND FOSSILS.
VOLCANOES.
EARTHQUAKES.
SURFS AND TIDES.
SITUATION.
NAME.
GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY, ITS MOUNTAINS, LAKES, AND RIVERS.
AIR AND WEATHER.
MONSOONS, AND LAND AND SEA BREEZES.
MINERALS AND FOSSILS.
VOLCANOES.
EARTHQUAKES.
SURFS AND TIDES.
DISTINCTION OF INHABITANTS.
REJANGS CHOSEN FOR GENERAL DESCRIPTION.
PERSONS AND COMPLEXION.
CLOTHING AND ORNAMENTS.
DISTINCTION OF INHABITANTS.
REJANGS CHOSEN FOR GENERAL DESCRIPTION.
PERSONS AND COMPLEXION.
CLOTHING AND ORNAMENTS.
VILLAGES.
BUILDINGS.
DOMESTIC UTENSILS.
FOOD.
VILLAGES.
BUILDINGS.
KITCHEN UTENSILS.
FOOD.
AGRICULTURE.
RICE, ITS CULTIVATION, ETC.
PLANTATIONS OF COCONUT, BETEL-NUT, AND OTHER VEGETABLES FOR
DOMESTIC USE.
DYE STUFFS.
AGRICULTURE.
RICE, ITS CULTIVATION, ETC.
PLANTATIONS OF COCONUT, BETEL NUT, AND OTHER VEGETABLES FOR
DOMESTIC USE.
DYE STUFFS.
FRUITS, FLOWERS, MEDICINAL SHRUBS AND HERBS.
FRUITS, FLOWERS, MEDICINAL SHRUBS, AND HERBS.
BEASTS.
REPTILES.
FISH.
BIRDS.
INSECTS.
Animals.
Reptiles.
Fish.
Birds.
Insects.
VEGETABLE PRODUCTIONS OF THE ISLAND CONSIDERED AS ARTICLES OF
COMMERCE.
PEPPER.
CULTIVATION OF PEPPER.
CAMPHOR.
BENZOIN.
CASSIA, ETC.
VEGETABLE PRODUCTIONS OF THE ISLAND CONSIDERED AS ARTICLES OF COMMERCE.
PEPPER.
CULTIVATION OF PEPPER.
CAMPHOR.
BENZOIN.
CASSIA, ETC.
GOLD, TIN, AND OTHER METALS.
BEESWAX.
IVORY.
BIRDS-NEST, ETC.
IMPORT-TRADE.
GOLD, TIN, AND OTHER METALS.
BEESWAX.
IVORY.
BIRDS' NEST, ETC.
IMPORT TRADE.
ARTS AND MANUFACTURES.
ART OF MEDICINE.
SCIENCES.
ARITHMETIC.
GEOGRAPHY.
ASTRONOMY.
MUSIC, ETC.
ARTS AND MANUFACTURES.
ART OF MEDICINE.
SCIENCES.
ARITHMETIC.
GEOGRAPHY.
ASTRONOMY.
MUSIC, ETC.
LANGUAGES.
MALAYAN.
ARABIC CHARACTER USED.
LANGUAGES OF THE INTERIOR PEOPLE.
PECULIAR CHARACTERS.
SPECIMENS OF LANGUAGES AND OF ALPHABETS.
LANGUAGES.
MALAYAN.
ARABIC SCRIPT USED.
LANGUAGES OF THE INTERIOR PEOPLE.
UNIQUE CHARACTERS.
SAMPLES OF LANGUAGES AND ALPHABETS.
COMPARATIVE STATE OF THE SUMATRANS IN CIVIL SOCIETY.
DIFFERENCE OF CHARACTER BETWEEN THE MALAYS AND OTHER
INHABITANTS.
GOVERNMENT.
TITLES AND POWER OF THE CHIEFS AMONG THE REJANGS.
INFLUENCE OF THE EUROPEANS.
GOVERNMENT IN PASSUMMAH.
COMPARATIVE STATUS OF THE SUMATRANS IN CIVIL SOCIETY.
DIFFERENCES IN CHARACTER BETWEEN THE MALAYS AND OTHER
INHABITANTS.
GOVERNANCE.
TITLES AND AUTHORITY OF THE CHIEFS AMONG THE REJANGS.
INFLUENCE OF EUROPEANS.
GOVERNANCE IN PASSUMMAH.
LAWS AND CUSTOMS.
MODE OF DECIDING CAUSES.
CODE OF LAWS.
LAWS AND CUSTOMS.
HOW TO RESOLVE DISPUTES.
SET OF LAWS.
REMARKS ON, AND ELUCIDATION OF, THE VARIOUS LAWS AND
CUSTOMS.
MODES OF PLEADING.
NATURE OF EVIDENCE.
OATHS.
INHERITANCE.
OUTLAWRY.
THEFT, MURDER, AND COMPENSATION FOR IT.
ACCOUNT OF A FEUD.
DEBTS.
SLAVERY.
REMARKS ON, AND ELUCIDATION OF, THE VARIOUS LAWS AND
CUSTOMS.
MODES OF PLEADING.
NATURE OF EVIDENCE.
OATHS.
INHERITANCE.
OUTLAWRY.
THEFT, MURDER, AND COMPENSATION FOR IT.
ACCOUNT OF A FEUD.
DEBTS.
SLAVERY.
MODES OF MARRIAGE, AND CUSTOMS RELATIVE THERETO.
POLYGAMY.
FESTIVALS.
GAMES.
COCK-FIGHTING.
USE AND EFFECTS OF OPIUM.
MODES OF MARRIAGE AND RELATED CUSTOMS.
POLYGAMY.
FESTIVALS.
GAMES.
COCKFIGHTING.
USE AND EFFECTS OF OPIUM.
CUSTOM OF CHEWING BETEL.
EMBLEMATIC PRESENTS.
ORATORY.
CHILDREN.
NAMES.
CIRCUMCISION.
FUNERALS.
RELIGION.
BETEL CHEWING CUSTOM.
SYMBOLIC GIFTS.
SPEECH.
KIDS.
NAMES.
CIRCUMCISION.
FUNERALS.
RELIGION.
THE COUNTRY OF LAMPONG AND ITS INHABITANTS.
LANGUAGE.
GOVERNMENT.
WARS.
PECULIAR CUSTOMS.
RELIGION.
THE COUNTRY OF LAMPONG AND ITS INHABITANTS.
LANGUAGE.
GOVERNMENT.
WARS.
UNIQUE CUSTOMS.
RELIGION.
ACCOUNT OF THE INLAND COUNTRY OF KORINCHI.
EXPEDITION TO THE SERAMPEI AND SUNGEI-TENANG COUNTRIES.
ACCOUNT OF THE INLAND COUNTRY OF KORINCHI.
EXPEDITION TO THE SERAMPEI AND SUNGEI-TENANG COUNTRIES.
MALAYAN STATES.
ANCIENT EMPIRE OF MENANGKABAU.
ORIGIN OF THE MALAYS AND GENERAL ACCEPTATION OF NAME.
EVIDENCES OF THEIR MIGRATION FROM SUMATRA.
SUCCESSION OF MALAYAN PRINCES.
PRESENT STATE OF THE EMPIRE.
TITLES OF THE SULTAN.
CEREMONIES.
CONVERSION TO MAHOMETAN RELIGION.
LITERATURE.
ARTS.
WARFARE.
GOVERNMENT.
MALAYAN STATES.
ANCIENT EMPIRE OF MENANGKABAU.
ORIGIN OF THE MALAYS AND GENERAL ACCEPTANCE OF THE NAME.
EVIDENCE OF THEIR MIGRATION FROM SUMATRA.
SUCCESSION OF MALAYAN PRINCES.
CURRENT STATE OF THE EMPIRE.
TITLES OF THE SULTAN.
CEREMONIES.
CONVERSION TO ISLAM.
LITERATURE.
ARTS.
WARFARE.
GOVERNMENT.
KINGDOMS OF INDRAPURA, ANAK-SUNGEI, PASSAMMAN, SIAK.
KINGDOMS OF INDRAPURA, ANAK-SUNGEI, PASSAMMAN, SIAK.
THE COUNTRY OF THE BATTAS.
TAPPANULI-BAY.
JOURNEY INTO THE INTERIOR.
CASSIA-TREES.
GOVERNMENTS.
ARMS.
WARFARE.
TRADE.
FAIRS.
FOOD.
MANNERS.
LANGUAGE.
WRITING.
RELIGION.
FUNERALS.
CRIMES.
EXTRAORDINARY CUSTOM.
THE LAND OF THE BATTAS.
TAPPANULI BAY.
TRIP INTO THE INTERIOR.
CASSIA TREES.
GOVERNMENTS.
WEAPONS.
CONFLICT.
COMMERCE.
MARKETS.
FOOD.
CULTURE.
LANGUAGE.
WRITING.
RELIGION.
FUNERALS.
CRIMES.
UNEXPECTED CUSTOMS.
KINGDOM OF ACHIN.
ITS CAPITAL.
AIR.
INHABITANTS.
COMMERCE.
MANUFACTURES.
NAVIGATION.
COIN.
GOVERNMENT.
REVENUES.
PUNISHMENTS.
ACHIN KINGDOM.
CAPITAL.
AIR.
POPULATION.
TRADE.
MANUFACTURING.
NAVIGATION.
CURRENCY.
GOVERNMENT.
REVENUE.
PUNISHMENTS.
HISTORY OF THE KINGDOM OF ACHIN, FROM THE PERIOD OF ITS BEING VISITED BY EUROPEANS.
HISTORY OF THE KINGDOM OF ACHIN, FROM THE TIME IT WAS VISITED BY EUROPEANS.
BRIEF ACCOUNT OF THE ISLANDS LYING OFF THE WESTERN COAST OF SUMATRA.
BRIEF ACCOUNT OF THE ISLANDS OFF THE WESTERN COAST OF SUMATRA.
LIST OF PLATES.
PLATE LIST.
PLATE 1.
THE PEPPER-PLANT, Piper nigrum.
E.W. Marsden delt. Engraved by J. Swaine, Queen Street, Golden
Square.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 1.
THE PEPPER-PLANT, Piper nigrum.
E.W. Marsden delt. Engraved by J. Swaine, Queen Street, Golden
Square.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 2.
THE DAMMAR, A SPECIES OF PINUS.
Sinensis delt. Swaine Sc.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 2.
THE DAMMAR, A TYPE OF PINE.
Sinensis delt. Swaine Sc.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 3.
THE MANGUSTIN FRUIT, Garcinia mangostana.
Engraved by J. Swaine.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 3.
THE MANGOSTEEN FRUIT, Garcinia mangostana.
Engraved by J. Swaine.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 4.
THE RAMBUTAN, Nephelium lappaceum.
L. Wilkins delt. Engraved by J. Swaine.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 4.
THE RAMBUTAN, Nephelium lappaceum.
L. Wilkins drew it. Engraved by J. Swaine.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 5.
THE LANSEH FRUIT, Lansium domesticum.
L. Wilkins delt. Hooker Sc.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 5.
THE LANSEH FRUIT, Lansium domesticum.
L. Wilkins delt. Hooker Sc.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 6.
THE RAMBEH FRUIT, A SPECIES OF LANSEH.
Maria Wilkins delt. Engraved by J. Swaine.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 6.
THE RAMBEH FRUIT, A TYPE OF LANSEH.
Maria Wilkins delt. Engraved by J. Swaine.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 7.
THE KAMILING OR BUAH KRAS, Juglans camirium.
L. Wilkins delt. Engraved by J. Swaine.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 7.
THE KAMILING OR BUAH KRAS, Juglans camirium.
L. Wilkins drew it. Engraved by J. Swaine.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 8.
Marsdenia tinctoria, OR BROAD-LEAFED INDIGO.
E.W. Marsden delt. Swaine fct.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 8.
Marsdenia tinctoria, OR BROAD-LEAFED INDIGO.
E.W. Marsden drew it. Swaine made it.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 9.
A SPECIES OF Lemur volans, SUSPENDED FROM THE RAMBEH-TREE.
Sinensis delt. N. Cardon fct.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 9.
A SPECIES OF Lemur volans, HANGING FROM THE RAMBEH TREE.
Sinensis delt. N. Cardon fct.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 9a.
THE MUSANG, A SPECIES OF VIVERRA.
W. Bell delt. A. Cardon fc.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 9a.
THE MUSANG, A SPECIES OF VIVERRA.
W. Bell delt. A. Cardon fc.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 10.
THE TANGGILING OR PENG-GOLING-SISIK, A SPECIES OF MANIS.
W. Bell delt. A. Cardon fct.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 10.
THE TANGGILING OR PENG-GOLING-SISIK, A SPECIES OF MANIS.
W. Bell delt. A. Cardon fct.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 11. n.1.
THE ANJING-AYER, Mustela lutra.
W. Bell delt. A. Cardon fc.
PLATE 11. n.1.
THE ANJING-AYER, Mustela lutra.
W. Bell delt. A. Cardon fc.
PLATE 11a. n.2. 1..
SKULL OF THE KAMBING-UTAN. 2. SKULL OF THE KIJANG.
W. Bell delt. A. Cardon sc.
PLATE 11a. n.2. 1..
SKULL OF THE KAMBING-UTAN. 2. SKULL OF THE KIJANG.
W. Bell delt. A. Cardon sc.
PLATE 12. n.1..
THE PALANDOK, A DIMINUTIVE SPECIES OF MOSCHUS.
Sinensis delt. A. Cardon fc.
PLATE 12. n.1..
THE PALANDOK, A SMALL SPECIES OF MOSCHUS.
Sinensis delt. A. Cardon fc.
PLATE 12a. n.2.
THE KIJANG OR ROE, Cervus muntjak.
W. Bell delt. A. Cardon sc.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 12a. n.2.
THE KIJANG OR ROE, Cervus muntjak.
W. Bell delt. A. Cardon sc.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 13. n.1.
THE LANDAK, Hystrix longicauda.
Sinensis delt. A. Cardon fc.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 13. n.1.
THE LANDAK, Hystrix longicauda.
Sinensis delt. A. Cardon fc.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 13a. n.2.
THE ANJING-AYER.
Sinensis delt. A. Cardon fc.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 13a. n.2.
THE ANJING-AYER.
Sinensis delt. A. Cardon fc.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 14. n.1.
THE KAMBING-UTAN, OR WILD-GOAT.
W. Bell delt.
PLATE 14. n.1.
THE KAMBING-UTAN, OR WILD-GOAT.
W. Bell delt.
PLATE 14a. n.2.
THE KUBIN, Draco volans.
Sinensis delt. A. Cardon sc.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 14a. n.2.
THE KUBIN, Draco volans.
Sinensis delt. A. Cardon sc.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 15.
BEAKS OF THE BUCEROS OR HORN-BILL.
M. de Jonville delt. Swaine sc.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 15.
BEAKS OF THE BUCEROS OR HORN-BILL.
M. de Jonville delt. Swaine sc.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 16.
A MALAY BOY, NATIVE OF BENCOOLEN.
T. Heaphy delt. A. Cardon fecit.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 16.
A MALAY BOY, NATIVE OF BENCOOLEN.
T. Heaphy delt. A. Cardon fecit.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 17.
SUMATRAN WEAPONS.
A. A Malay Gadoobang. B. A Batta Weapon. C. A Malay Creese.
One-third of the size of the Originals.
W. Williams del. and sculpt.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 17.
SUMATRAN WEAPONS.
A. A Malay Gadoobang. B. A Batta Weapon. C. A Malay Creese.
One-third the size of the Originals.
W. Williams del. and sculpt.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 17a.
SUMATRAN WEAPONS. D. A Malay Creese. E. An Achenese Creese. F. A Malay Sewar.
One-third of the size of the Originals.
W. Williams del. and sculpt.
PLATE 17a.
SUMATRAN WEAPONS. D. A Malay Creese. E. An Achenese Creese. F. A Malay Sewar.
One-third the size of the Originals.
W. Williams del. and sculpt.
PLATE 18.
ENTRANCE OF PADANG RIVER. With Buffaloes.
PLATE 18.
ENTRANCE OF PADANG RIVER. With Buffaloes.
PLATE 18a.
VIEW OF PADANG HILL.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 18a.
VIEW OF PADANG HILL.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 19.
A VILLAGE HOUSE IN SUMATRA.
W. Bell delt. J.G. Stadler sculpt.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 19.
A VILLAGE HOUSE IN SUMATRA.
W. Bell delt. J.G. Stadler sculpt.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 19a.
A PLANTATION HOUSE IN SUMATRA.
W. Bell delt. J.G. Stadler sculpt.
PLATE 19a.
A PLANTATION HOUSE IN SUMATRA.
W. Bell delt. J.G. Stadler sculpt.
PREFACE.
The island of Sumatra, which, in point of situation and extent, holds a conspicuous rank on the terraqueous globe, and is surpassed by few in the bountiful indulgences of nature, has in all ages been unaccountably neglected by writers insomuch that it is at this day less known, as to the interior parts more especially, than the remotest island of modern discovery; although it has been constantly resorted to by Europeans for some centuries, and the English have had a regular establishment there for the last hundred years. It is true that the commercial importance of Sumatra has much declined. It is no longer the Emporium of Eastern riches whither the traders of the West resorted with their cargoes to exchange them for the precious merchandise of the Indian Archipelago: nor does it boast now the political consequence it acquired when the rapid progress of the Portuguese successes there first received a check. That enterprising people, who caused so many kingdoms to shrink from the terror of their arms, met with nothing but disgrace in their attempts against Achin, whose monarchs made them tremble in their turn. Yet still the importance of this island in the eye of the natural historian has continued undiminished, and has equally at all periods laid claim to an attention that does not appear, at any, to have been paid to it.
The island of Sumatra, which has a prominent position and size on the planet, and is surpassed by few in its abundant natural resources, has been strangely overlooked by writers throughout history. Today, it is less known, especially in its interior regions, than even the most distant islands discovered in modern times; this is despite the fact that Europeans have visited it for centuries, and the English have had a consistent presence there for the last hundred years. It’s true that Sumatra’s commercial significance has greatly decreased. It is no longer the hub of Eastern wealth where Western traders used to come to exchange goods for the valuable merchandise of the Indian Archipelago, nor does it hold the political weight it once had when the rapid rise of the Portuguese was first stalled. That ambitious nation, which made many kingdoms shrink in fear of their military might, faced only failure in their attempts against Achin, where the local rulers made them tremble in return. However, the importance of this island remains strong in the eyes of natural historians and has consistently claimed attention that still appears to have gone largely unrecognized.
The Portuguese being better warriors than philosophers, and more eager to conquer nations than to explore their manners or antiquities, it is not surprising that they should have been unable to furnish the world with any particular and just description of a country which they must have regarded with an evil eye. The Dutch were the next people from whom we had a right to expect information. They had an early intercourse with the island, and have at different times formed settlements in almost every part of it; yet they are almost silent with respect to its history.* But to what cause are we to ascribe the remissness of our own countrymen, whose opportunities have been equal to those of their predecessors or contemporaries? It seems difficult to account for it; but the fact is that, excepting a short sketch of the manners prevailing in a particular district of the island, published in the Philosophical Transactions of the year 1778, not one page of information respecting the inhabitants of Sumatra has been communicated to the public by any Englishman who has resided there.
The Portuguese were better at fighting than thinking, and more interested in conquering nations than understanding their cultures or histories. So, it's not surprising that they couldn't provide a detailed and accurate description of a place they likely viewed negatively. The Dutch were the next group from whom we could expect information. They established early trade with the island and created settlements in almost every part of it at different times; however, they remain mostly silent about its history.* But what explains the lack of effort from our own countrymen, who had just as many opportunities as those before or alongside them? It's hard to explain; the truth is, apart from a brief overview of the customs in a specific area of the island published in the Philosophical Transactions in 1778, not a single page of information about the people of Sumatra has been shared with the public by any Englishman who has lived there.
(*Footnote. At the period when this remark was written, I was not aware that an account of the Dutch settlements and commerce in Sumatra by M. Adolph Eschels-kroon had in the preceding year been published at Hamburgh, in the German language; nor had the transactions of a literary society established at Batavia, whose first volume appeared there in 1779, yet reached this country. The work, indeed, of Valentyn, containing a general history of the European possessions in the East Indies, should have exempted a nation to which oriental learning is largely indebted from what I now consider as an unmerited reflection.)
(*Footnote. When I wrote this comment, I was unaware that M. Adolph Eschels-kroon's account of the Dutch settlements and trade in Sumatra had been published the previous year in Hamburg, in German. Additionally, the reports from a literary society formed in Batavia, which published its first volume in 1779, had not yet reached this country. In fact, Valentyn's work, which provides a comprehensive history of European possessions in the East Indies, should have spared a nation that owes much to Eastern scholarship from what I now see as an undeserved criticism.)
To form a general and tolerably accurate account of this country and its inhabitants is a work attended with great and peculiar difficulties. The necessary information is not to be procured from the people themselves, whose knowledge and inquiries are to the last degree confined, scarcely extending beyond the bounds of the district where they first drew breath; and but very rarely have the almost impervious woods of Sumatra been penetrated to any considerable distance from the sea coast by Europeans, whose observations have been then imperfect, trusted perhaps to memory only, or, if committed to paper, lost to the world by their deaths. Other difficulties arise from the extraordinary diversity of national distinctions, which, under a great variety of independent governments, divide this island in many directions; and yet not from their number merely, nor from the dissimilarity in their languages or manners, does the embarrassment entirely proceed: the local divisions are perplexed and uncertain; the extent of jurisdiction of the various princes is inaccurately defined; settlers from different countries and at different periods have introduced an irregular though powerful influence that supersedes in some places the authority of the established governments, and imposes a real dominion on the natives where a nominal one is not assumed. This, in a course of years, is productive of innovations that destroy the originality and genuineness of their customs and manners, obliterate ancient distinctions, and render confused the path of an investigator.
Creating a general and reasonably accurate account of this country and its people is a task filled with significant and unique challenges. The information needed can't be obtained from the locals, whose knowledge and inquiries are extremely limited, barely reaching beyond the area where they were born; and very rarely have Europeans ventured far into the dense forests of Sumatra from the coast, resulting in observations that are often incomplete, sometimes based only on memory, or, if written down, lost to the world when the writers passed away. Other challenges come from the remarkable diversity of national identities, which are divided by various independent governments all over the island; this complexity doesn't only arise from the sheer number of these groups or the differences in their languages and cultures—it's also due to the confusing and uncertain local divisions. The extent of authority held by different rulers isn’t clearly defined; settlers from various countries and times have brought in a chaotic yet strong influence that sometimes overrides the power of established governments and exerts real control over the locals when a formal one is not upheld. Over the years, this creates changes that erode the originality and authenticity of their customs and traditions, erase ancient distinctions, and complicate the path for any investigator.
These objections, which seem to have hitherto proved unsurmountable with such as might have been inclined to attempt the history of Sumatra, would also have deterred me from an undertaking apparently so arduous, had I not reflected that those circumstances in which consisted the principal difficulty were in fact the least interesting to the public, and of the least utility in themselves. It is of but small importance to determine with precision whether a few villages on this or that particular river belong to one petty chief or to another; whether such a nation is divided into a greater or lesser number of tribes; or which of two neighbouring powers originally did homage to the other for its title. History is only to be prized as it tends to improve our knowledge of mankind, to which such investigations contribute in a very small degree. I have therefore attempted rather to give a comprehensive than a circumstantial description of the divisions of the country into its various governments; aiming at a more particular detail in what respects the customs, opinions, arts, and industry of the original inhabitants in their most genuine state. The interests of the European powers who have established themselves on the island; the history of their settlements, and of the revolutions of their commerce I have not considered as forming a part of my plan; but these subjects, as connected with the accounts of the native inhabitants and the history of their governments, are occasionally introduced.
These objections, which have seemed difficult to overcome for those considering the history of Sumatra, would also have discouraged me from taking on such a challenging task, if I hadn’t realized that the main difficulties were actually the least interesting to the public and of minimal utility on their own. It’s not very important to precisely determine whether a few villages along a specific river belong to one minor chief or another; whether a certain nation is split into a larger or smaller number of tribes; or which of two neighboring powers originally pledged loyalty to the other for its title. History should be valued for how it helps us understand humanity, and these investigations contribute very little to that. Therefore, I’ve aimed to provide a broad overview rather than a detailed account of the country’s various governments; focusing more on the customs, beliefs, arts, and industries of the original inhabitants in their true form. I haven’t included the interests of the European powers that have settled on the island, their settlements, or the shifts in their commerce in my plan; however, these topics are occasionally referenced as they relate to the accounts of the native people and the history of their governments.
I was principally encouraged to this undertaking by the promises of assistance I received from some ingenious and very highly esteemed friends who resided with me in Sumatra. It has also been urged to me here in England that, as the subject is altogether new, it is a duty incumbent on me to lay the information I am in possession of, however defective, before the public, who will not object to its being circumscribed whilst its authenticity remains unimpeachable. This last quality is that which I can with the most confidence take upon me to vouch for. The greatest portion of what I have described has fallen within the scope of my own immediate observation; the remainder is either matter of common notoriety to every person residing in the island, or received upon the concurring authority of gentlemen whose situation in the East India Company's service, long acquaintance with the natives, extensive knowledge of their language, ideas, and manners, and respectability of character, render them worthy of the most implicit faith that can be given to human testimony.
I was mainly motivated to take on this project by the offers of help I received from some clever and highly respected friends who lived with me in Sumatra. I've also been encouraged here in England to share the information I have, even if it's not perfect, since the topic is completely new. It’s my responsibility to present this to the public, who will likely accept its limited scope as long as its authenticity is reliable. This last quality is something I can confidently guarantee. Most of what I’ve described comes from my own direct observations; the rest is either common knowledge among everyone living on the island or information from well-regarded individuals in the East India Company who have long experience with the locals, a deep understanding of their language and culture, and character that commands trust in human testimony.
I have been the more scrupulously exact in this particular because my view was not, ultimately, to write an entertaining book to which the marvellous might be thought not a little to contribute, but sincerely and conscientiously to add the small portion in my power to the general knowledge of the age; to throw some glimmering light on the path of the naturalist; and more especially to furnish those philosophers whose labours have been directed to the investigation of the history of Man with facts to serve as data in their reasonings, which are too often rendered nugatory, and not seldom ridiculous, by assuming as truths the misconceptions or wilful impositions of travellers. The study of their own species is doubtless the most interesting and important that can claim the attention of mankind; and this science, like all others, it is impossible to improve by abstract speculation merely. A regular series of authenticated facts is what alone can enable us to rise towards a perfect knowledge in it. To have added one new and firm step in this arduous ascent is a merit of which I should be proud to boast.
I’ve been very careful about this because my goal wasn’t to write an entertaining book that might rely on the extraordinary, but rather to sincerely and diligently contribute what I can to the overall knowledge of our time; to shed some light on the path of naturalists; and especially to provide those philosophers who study the history of humanity with facts they can use in their arguments, which are often undermined and sometimes made absurd by taking for granted the misunderstandings or deliberate falsehoods from travelers. The study of our own species is undoubtedly the most fascinating and important thing that can capture human attention; and like all sciences, it can’t be improved through mere abstract speculation. Only a solid series of verified facts can help us advance toward a complete understanding of it. I would be proud to claim that I’ve added one new and solid step in this difficult journey.
Of this third edition it is necessary to observe that, the former two having made their appearance so early as the years 1783 and 1784, it would long since have been prepared for the public eye had not the duties of an official situation occupied for many years the whole of my attention. During that period, however, I received from my friends abroad various useful, and, to me at least, interesting communications which have enabled me to correct some inaccuracies, to supply deficiencies, and to augment the general mass of information on the subject of an island still but imperfectly explored. To incorporate these new materials requiring that many liberties should be taken with the original contexture of the work, I became the less scrupulous of making further alterations wherever I thought they could be introduced with advantage. The branch of natural history in particular I trust will be found to have received much improvement, and I feel happy to have had it in my power to illustrate several of the more interesting productions of the vegetable and animal kingdoms by engravings executed from time to time as the drawings were procured, and which are intended to accompany the volume in a separate atlas.
In this third edition, it's important to note that the first two were published back in 1783 and 1784. It would have been available to the public much earlier if I hadn't been tied up with official duties for many years. During that time, I received various helpful and interesting feedback from friends abroad, which allowed me to fix some inaccuracies, fill in gaps, and expand the overall information about an island that is still not fully explored. Incorporating these new materials meant making some significant changes to the original structure of the work, so I was less hesitant to make further alterations wherever I thought they would be beneficial. I'm particularly hopeful that the section on natural history has seen a lot of improvement, and I'm pleased to have been able to illustrate several of the more fascinating examples from the plant and animal kingdoms with engravings created as the drawings were completed, intended to accompany this volume in a separate atlas.
THE HISTORY OF SUMATRA.
CHAPTER 1.
SITUATION.
NAME.
GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY, ITS MOUNTAINS, LAKES, AND
RIVERS.
AIR AND METEORS.
MONSOONS, AND LAND AND SEA-BREEZES.
MINERALS AND FOSSILS.
VOLCANOES.
EARTHQUAKES.
SURFS AND TIDES.
SITUATION.
NAME.
GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY, ITS MOUNTAINS, LAKES, AND
RIVERS.
AIR AND WEATHER.
MONSOONS, AND LAND AND SEA BREEZES.
MINERALS AND FOSSILS.
VOLCANOES.
EARTHQUAKES.
SURF AND TIDES.
If antiquity holds up to us some models, in different arts and sciences, which have been found inimitable, the moderns, on the other hand, have carried their inventions and improvements, in a variety of instances, to an extent and a degree of perfection of which the former could entertain no ideas. Among those discoveries in which we have stepped so far beyond our masters there is none more striking, or more eminently useful, than the means which the ingenuity of some, and the experience of others, have taught mankind, of determining with certainty and precision the relative situation of the various countries of the earth. What was formerly the subject of mere conjecture, or at best of vague and arbitrary computation, is now the clear result of settled rule, founded upon principles demonstratively just. It only remains for the liberality of princes and states, and the persevering industry of navigators and travellers, to effect the application of these means to their proper end, by continuing to ascertain the unknown and uncertain positions of all the parts of the world, which the barriers of nature will allow the skill and industry of man to approach.
If ancient times provide us with models in various arts and sciences that seem impossible to replicate, modern times, on the other hand, have taken their inventions and improvements to levels of excellence that the ancients couldn't even imagine. Among the breakthroughs where we've surpassed our predecessors, none is more impressive or useful than the methods developed by some through creativity and by others through experience, which allow us to accurately and precisely determine the geographical positions of different countries around the globe. What used to be a matter of mere guesswork, or at best rough estimates, is now based on clear rules grounded in principles that are undeniably sound. It’s now up to the generosity of leaders and nations, as well as the tireless efforts of explorers and travelers, to apply these methods effectively by continuing to identify the unknown locations of all parts of the world that nature permits us to reach with human skill and effort.
SITUATION OF THE ISLAND.
ISLAND SITUATION.
Sumatra, the subject of the present work, is an extensive island in the East Indies, the most western of those which may be termed the Malayan Archipelago, and constituting its boundary on that side.
Sumatra, the focus of this work, is a large island in the East Indies, the westernmost of those that can be called the Malayan Archipelago, and it forms the boundary on that side.
LATITUDE.
LATITUDE.
The equator divides it obliquely, its general direction being north-west and south-east, into almost equal parts; the one extremity lying in five degrees thirty-three minutes north, and the other in five degrees fifty-six minutes south latitude. In respect to relative position its northern point stretches into the Bay of Bengal; its south-west coast is exposed to the great Indian Ocean; towards the south it is separated by the Straits of Sunda from the island of Java; on the east by the commencement of the Eastern and China Seas from Borneo and other islands; and on the north-east by the Straits of Malacca from the peninsula of Malayo, to which, according to a tradition noticed by the Portuguese historians, it is supposed to have been anciently united.
The equator cuts through it at an angle, generally running from the northwest to the southeast, dividing it into almost equal halves; one end is at five degrees thirty-three minutes north, and the other at five degrees fifty-six minutes south latitude. In terms of relative location, its northern point extends into the Bay of Bengal; its southwest coast faces the vast Indian Ocean; to the south, it's separated from the island of Java by the Straits of Sunda; on the east, the Eastern and China Seas separate it from Borneo and other islands; and to the northeast, the Straits of Malacca separate it from the Malay Peninsula, which, according to a tradition noted by Portuguese historians, is believed to have been connected to it in ancient times.
LONGITUDE.
Longitude.
The only point of the island whose longitude has been settled by actual observation is Fort Marlborough, near Bencoolen, the principal English settlement, standing in three degrees forty-six minutes of south latitude. From eclipses of Jupiter's satellites observed in June 1769, preparatory to an observation of the transit of the planet Venus over the sun's disc, Mr. Robert Nairne calculated its longitude to be 101 degrees 42 minutes 45 seconds; which was afterwards corrected by the Astronomer Royal to 102 degrees east of Greenwich. The situation of Achin Head is pretty accurately fixed by computation at 95 degrees 34 minutes; and longitudes of places in the Straits of Sunda are well ascertained by the short runs from Batavia, which city has the advantage of an observatory.
The only part of the island with a confirmed longitude based on actual observations is Fort Marlborough, near Bencoolen, the main English settlement, located at three degrees forty-six minutes south latitude. From his observations of Jupiter's moons in June 1769, before observing the transit of Venus across the sun, Mr. Robert Nairne determined its longitude to be 101 degrees 42 minutes 45 seconds; this was later adjusted by the Astronomer Royal to 102 degrees east of Greenwich. The location of Achin Head is also pretty accurately calculated at 95 degrees 34 minutes, and the longitudes of places in the Straits of Sunda are well established through the short distances from Batavia, which benefits from having an observatory.
MAP.
Map.
By the general use of chronometers in latter times the means have been afforded of determining the positions of many prominent points both on the eastern and western coasts, by which the map of the island has been considerably improved: but particular surveys, such as those of the bays and islets from Batang-kapas to Padang, made with great ability by Captain (now Lieutenant-Colonel) John Macdonald; of the coast from Priaman to the islands off Achin by Captain George Robertson; and of Siak River by Mr. Francis Lynch, are much wanted; and the interior of the country is still very imperfectly known. From sketches of the routes of Mr. Charles Campbell and of Lieutenant Hastings Dare I have been enabled to delineate the principal features of the Sarampei, Sungei Tenang and Korinchi countries, inland of Ipu, Moco-moco, and Indrapura; and advantage has been taken of all other information that could be procured. For the general materials from which the map is constructed I am chiefly indebted to the kindness of my friend, the late Mr. Alexander Dalrymple, whose indefatigable labours during a long life have contributed more than those of any other person to the improvement of Indian Hydrography. It may be proper to observe that the map of Sumatra to be found in the fifth volume of Valentyn's great work is so extremely incorrect, even in regard to those parts immediately subject to the Dutch government, as to be quite useless.
Thanks to the widespread use of chronometers in recent times, we've been able to accurately determine the locations of many key points along both the eastern and western coasts, significantly improving the island's map. However, we still really need detailed surveys, like those of the bays and islets from Batang-kapas to Padang, skillfully done by Captain (now Lieutenant-Colonel) John Macdonald; the coast from Priaman to the islands off Achin by Captain George Robertson; and the Siak River by Mr. Francis Lynch. The interior of the country remains poorly understood. Based on sketches of the routes by Mr. Charles Campbell and Lieutenant Hastings Dare, I was able to outline the main features of the Sarampei, Sungei Tenang, and Korinchi regions, inland of Ipu, Moco-moco, and Indrapura; I also took advantage of any other information I could gather. For the foundational materials that make up this map, I owe a great deal to the generosity of my late friend, Mr. Alexander Dalrymple, whose tireless efforts throughout his life have contributed more than anyone else to the advancements in Indian Hydrography. It's worth noting that the map of Sumatra found in the fifth volume of Valentyn's comprehensive work is so incredibly inaccurate, even regarding areas directly under Dutch control, that it's completely useless.
UNKNOWN TO THE ANCIENTS. TAPROBANE.
UNKNOWN TO THE ANCIENTS. SRI LANKA.
Notwithstanding the obvious situation of this island in the direct track from the ports of India to the Spice Islands and to China, it seems to have been unknown to the Greek and Roman geographers, whose information or conjectures carried them no farther than Selan-dib or Ceylon, which has claims to be considered as their Taprobane; although during the middle ages that celebrated name was almost uniformly applied to Sumatra. The single circumstance indeed of the latter being intersected by the equator (as Taprobane was said to be) is sufficient to justify the doubts of those who were disinclined to apply it to the former; and whether in fact the obscure and contradictory descriptions given by Strabo, Pomponius Mela, Pliny, and Ptolemy, belonged to any actual place, however imperfectly known; or whether, observing that a number of rare and valuable commodities were brought from an island or islands in the supposed extremity of the East, they might have been led to give place in their charts to one of vast extent, which should stand as the representative of the whole, is a question not to be hastily decided.
Despite its clear position on the direct route from the ports of India to the Spice Islands and China, it seems this island was unknown to Greek and Roman geographers, whose knowledge or speculations only extended as far as Selan-dib or Ceylon, which they considered their Taprobane. However, during the Middle Ages, that famous name was generally used for Sumatra. The fact that Sumatra is crossed by the equator (just like Taprobane was said to be) is enough to explain why some were hesitant to connect it with the former. Whether the unclear and contradictory descriptions provided by Strabo, Pomponius Mela, Pliny, and Ptolemy referred to an actual place, however imperfectly understood, or whether they noted that various rare and valuable goods were brought from an island or islands at the far end of the East and chose to depict one massive island as representative of the whole, is a question that shouldn't be rushed to answer.
OPHIR.
OPHIR.
The idea of Sumatra being the country of Ophir, whither Solomon sent his fleets for cargoes of gold and ivory, rather than to the coast of Sofala, or other part of Africa, is too vague, and the subject wrapped in a veil of too remote antiquity, to allow of satisfactory discussion; and I shall only observe that no inference can be drawn from the name of Ophir found in maps as belonging to a mountain in this island and to another in the peninsula; these having been applied to them by European navigators, and the word being unknown to the natives.
The idea that Sumatra was the location of Ophir, where Solomon sent his ships for gold and ivory, instead of the coast of Sofala or another part of Africa, is too uncertain and shrouded in too much ancient history to have a meaningful discussion. I’ll just note that you can’t draw conclusions from the name Ophir appearing on maps as referring to a mountain on this island or another in the peninsula; these names were given by European explorers, and the term is unfamiliar to the local people.
Until the discovery of the passage to India by the Cape of Good Hope the identity of this island as described or alluded to by writers is often equivocal, or to be inferred only from corresponding circumstances.
Until the discovery of the route to India around the Cape of Good Hope, the identification of this island as described or mentioned by authors is often unclear, or can only be understood through related circumstances.
ARABIAN TRAVELLERS.
Arabian Travelers.
The first of the two Arabian travellers of the ninth century, the account of whose voyages to India and China was translated by Renaudot from a manuscript written about the year 1173, speaks of a large island called Ramni, in the track between Sarandib and Sin (or China), that from the similarity of productions has been generally supposed to mean Sumatra; and this probability is strengthened by a circumstance I believe not hitherto noticed by commentators. It is said to divide the Sea of Herkend, or Indian Ocean, from the Sea of Shelahet) Salahet in Edrisi), and Salat being the Malayan term both for a strait in general, and for the well-known passage within the island of Singapura in particular, this may be fairly presumed to refer to the Straits of Malacca.
The first of the two Arabian travelers from the ninth century, whose voyages to India and China were translated by Renaudot from a manuscript written around the year 1173, mentions a large island called Ramni, located between Sarandib and Sin (or China). Due to the similarities in products, it's commonly believed this refers to Sumatra. This idea is further supported by a detail that I don't think has been previously noted by commentators. It's said to separate the Sea of Herkend, or Indian Ocean, from the Sea of Shelahet (Salahet in Edrisi), and since "Salat" is the Malay term for both a strait in general and the well-known passage within the island of Singapore in particular, it can reasonably be assumed this refers to the Straits of Malacca.
EDRISI.
EDRISI.
Edrisi, improperly called the Nubian geographer, who dedicated his work to Roger, King of Sicily, in the middle of the twelfth century, describes the same island, in the first climate, by the name of Al-Rami; but the particulars so nearly correspond with those given by the Arabian traveller as to show that the one account was borrowed from the other. He very erroneously however makes the distance between Sarandib and that island to be no more than three days' sail instead of fifteen. The island of Soborma, which he places in the same climate, is evidently Borneo, and the two passages leading to it are the Straits of Malacca and of Sunda. What is mentioned of Sumandar, in the second climate, has no relation whatever to Sumatra, although from the name we are led to expect it.
Edrisi, wrongly referred to as the Nubian geographer, dedicated his work to Roger, King of Sicily, in the mid-twelfth century. He describes the same island in the first climate as Al-Rami; however, the details closely match those provided by the Arabian traveler, indicating that one account was taken from the other. He incorrectly states that the distance between Sarandib and that island is only three days’ sail instead of fifteen. The island of Soborma, which he places in the same climate, is clearly Borneo, and the two passages leading to it are the Straits of Malacca and Sunda. The mention of Sumandar in the second climate has no connection to Sumatra, even though the name might suggest otherwise.
MARCO POLO.
Marco Polo.
Marco Polo, the celebrated Venetian traveller of the thirteenth century, is the first European who speaks of this island, but under the appellation of Java minor, which he gave to it by a sort of analogy, having forgotten, or not having learned from the natives, its appropriate name. His relation, though for a long time undervalued, and by many considered as a romantic tale, and liable as it is to the charge of errors and omissions, with some improbabilities, possesses, notwithstanding, strong internal evidence of genuineness and good faith. Containing few dates, the exact period of his visit to Sumatra cannot be ascertained, but as he returned to Venice in 1295, and possibly five years might have elapsed in his subsequent tedious voyages and journeys by Ceylon, the Karnatick, Malabar, Guzerat, Persia, the shores of the Caspian and Euxine, to Genoa (in a prison at which place he is said to have dictated his narrative), we may venture to refer it to the year 1290.
Marco Polo, the famous Venetian traveler from the thirteenth century, is the first European to mention this island, referring to it as Java Minor—an analogy he used because he either forgot its actual name or never learned it from the locals. His accounts, although undervalued for a long time and often dismissed as romantic tales filled with errors, omissions, and some implausibilities, still contain strong evidence of authenticity and sincerity. Since there are few specific dates mentioned, we can't determine exactly when he visited Sumatra, but given that he returned to Venice in 1295 and possibly spent five years traveling through Ceylon, Karnatick, Malabar, Guzerat, Persia, and along the shores of the Caspian and Euxine to Genoa (where he supposedly dictated his narrative while in prison), we can roughly date his visit to around 1290.
Taking his departure, with a considerable equipment, from a southern port of China, which he (or his transcriber) named Zaitum, they proceeded to Ziamba (Tsiampa or Champa, adjoining to the southern part of Cochin-China) which he had previously visited in 1280, being then in the service of the emperor Kublai Khan. From thence, he says, to the island of Java major is a course of fifteen hundred miles, but it is evident that he speaks of it only from the information of others, and not as an eyewitness; nor is it probable that the expedition should have deviated so far from its proper route. He states truly that it is a mart for spices and much frequented by traders from the southern provinces of China. He then mentions in succession the small uninhabited islands of Sondur and Condur (perhaps Pulo Condore); the province of Boeach otherwise Lochac (apparently Camboja, near to which Condore is situated); the island of Petan (either Patani or Pahang in the peninsula) the passage to which, from Boeach, is across a gulf (that of Siam); and the kingdom called Malaiur in the Italian, and Maletur in the Latin version, which we can scarcely doubt to be the Malayan kingdom of Singa-Pura, at the extremity of the peninsula, or Malacca, then beginning to flourish. It is not however asserted that he touched at all these places, nor does he seem to speak from personal knowledge until his arrival at Java minor (as he calls it) or Sumatra. This island, lying in a south-eastern direction from Petan (if he does not rather mean from Malaiur, the place last mentioned) he expressly says he visited, and describes it as being in circumference two thousand miles (not very wide of the truth in a matter so vague), extending to the southward so far as to render the Polar Star invisible, and divided into eight kingdoms, two of which he did not see, and the six others he enumerates as follows: Ferlech, which I apprehend to be Parlak, at the eastern extremity of the northern coast, where they were likely to have first made the land. Here he says the people in general were idolaters; but the Saracen merchants who frequented the place had converted to the faith of Mahomet the inhabitants of the towns, whilst those of the mountains lived like beasts, and were in the practice of eating human flesh. Basma or Basman: this nearly approaches in sound to Pasaman on the western coast, but I should be more inclined to refer it to Pase (by the Portuguese written Pacem) on the northern. The manners of the people here, as in the other kingdoms, are represented as savage; and such they might well appear to one who had long resided in China. Wild elephants are mentioned, and the rhinoceros is well described. Samara: this I suppose to be Samar-langa, likewise on the northern coast, and noted for its bay. Here, he says, the expedition, consisting of two thousand persons, was constrained to remain five months, waiting the change of the monsoon; and, being apprehensive of injury from the barbarous natives, they secured themselves, by means of a deep ditch, on the land side, with its extremities embracing the port, and strengthened by bulwarks of timber. With provisions they were supplied in abundance, particularly the finest fish. There is no wheat, and the people live on rice. They are without vines, but extract an excellent liquor from trees of the palm kind by cutting off a branch and applying to it a vessel which is filled in the course of a day and night. A description is then given of the Indian or coconut. Dragoian, a name bearing some though not much resemblance to Indragiri on the eastern coast; but I doubt his having proceeded so far to the southward as that river. The customs of the natives are painted as still more atrocious in this district. When any of them are afflicted with disorders pronounced by their magicians to be incurable their relations cause them to be suffocated, and then dress and eat their flesh; justifying the practice by this argument, that if it were suffered to corrupt and breed worms, these must presently perish, and by their deaths subject the soul of the deceased to great torments. They also kill and devour such strangers caught amongst them as cannot pay a ransom. Lambri might be presumed a corruption of Jambi, but the circumstances related do not justify the analogy. It is said to produce camphor, which is not found to the southward of the equinoctial line; and also verzino, or red-wood (though I suspect benzuin to be the word intended), together with a plant which he names birci, supposed to be the bakam of the Arabs, or sappan wood of the eastern islands, the seeds of which he carried with him to Venice. In the mountainous parts were men with tails a palm long; also the rhinoceros, and other wild animals. Lastly, Fanfur or Fansur, which corresponds better to Campar than to the island of Panchur, which some have supposed it. Here the finest camphor was produced, equal in value to its weight in gold. The inhabitants live on rice and draw liquor from certain trees in the manner before described. There are likewise trees that yield a species of meal. They are of a large size, have a thin bark, under which is a hard wood about three inches in thickness, and within this the pith, from which, by means of steeping and straining it, the meal (or sago) is procured, of which he had often eaten with satisfaction. Each of these kingdoms is said to have had its peculiar language. Departing from Lambri, and steering northward from Java minor one hundred and fifty miles, they reached a small island named Necuram or Norcueran (probably Nancowry, one of the Nicobars), and afterwards an island named Angaman (Andaman), from whence, steering to the southward of west a thousand miles, they arrived at that of Zeilan or Seilam, one of the most considerable in the world. The editions consulted are chiefly the Italian of Ramusio, 1583, Latin of Muller, 1671, and French of Bergeron, 1735, varying much from each other in the orthography of proper names.
Leaving a southern port in China, which he (or his writer) called Zaitum, they made their way to Ziamba (Tsiampa or Champa, near the southern part of Cochin-China), a place he had previously visited in 1280 while serving the emperor Kublai Khan. He mentioned that the journey to the island of Java major is about fifteen hundred miles, but it's clear he was relying on information from others and was not an eyewitness; it's also unlikely that the expedition would have strayed so far from its intended path. He accurately points out that it's a trading hub for spices, frequented by traders from southern China. He then lists the small uninhabited islands of Sondur and Condur (possibly Pulo Condore), the province of Boeach aka Lochac (likely Camboja, near Condore), the island of Petan (either Patani or Pahang on the peninsula), which can be reached from Boeach by crossing a gulf (the Gulf of Siam), and the kingdom referred to as Malaiur in Italian and Maletur in Latin, which we can hardly doubt is the Malay kingdom of Singa-Pura at the tip of the peninsula, or Malacca, which was just starting to thrive. However, it isn’t claimed that he visited all these places, and he seems to lack personal knowledge until he arrives at Java minor (as he calls it) or Sumatra. He explicitly states that he visited this island, describing it as having a circumference of two thousand miles (not far off in such vague terms), extending southward to the point where the Polar Star is no longer visible, and divided into eight kingdoms, two of which he didn’t see, while he lists the other six as follows: Ferlech, which I think is Parlak at the eastern end of the northern coast, likely where they made land first. He notes that the general population are idolaters, but the Saracen merchants who frequent the town had converted the locals to Islam, while those in the mountains lived like animals and practiced cannibalism. Basma or Basman: this sounds like Pasaman on the western coast, but I’d lean more toward it being Pase (written as Pacem by the Portuguese) on the north. The people here, like those in the other kingdoms, are depicted as savage; they might seem that way to someone who has been living in China for a long time. He mentions wild elephants and describes the rhinoceros well. Samara: I suspect this is Samar-langa, also on the northern coast and known for its bay. He mentions that the expedition, which had two thousand people, had to stay there for five months waiting for the monsoon to change; fearing harm from the hostile locals, they fortified themselves with a deep ditch at the land side that enclosed the port, strengthened by wooden bulwarks. They had plenty of food, especially the finest fish. There is no wheat, and the locals survive on rice. They don’t have vineyards but make excellent liquor from certain palm trees by cutting a branch and placing a container under it that fills up over a day and night. Next, he describes the Indian or coconut. Dragoian is a name that somewhat resembles Indragiri on the eastern coast, but I doubt he traveled that far south. The customs of the locals are described as even more brutal in this area. When someone is struck by an illness deemed by their magicians to be incurable, their relatives suffocate them and then cook and eat their flesh; they justify this by arguing that if the body were allowed to decay and produce worms, the deceased's soul would suffer greatly. They also kill and eat strangers caught among them who cannot pay a ransom. Lambri might be a distorted version of Jambi, but the situations described don’t support that link. It’s said to produce camphor, which isn’t found south of the equator, as well as verzino, or red-wood (though I suspect benzoin is what he meant), along with a plant he calls birci, assumed to be the bakam of the Arabs or sappan wood from the eastern islands, the seeds of which he took back with him to Venice. In the mountainous regions were men with tails the length of a palm; also the rhinoceros and other wild beasts. Finally, Fanfur or Fansur, which fits better with Campar than with the island of Panchur, which some have thought it might be. Here, the finest camphor was produced, valued at its weight in gold. The inhabitants live on rice and extract liquor from specific trees as previously detailed. There are also trees that produce a type of meal. They are large, have a thin bark, under which there’s hard wood about three inches thick, and inside, the pith, which, when soaked and strained, yields the meal (or sago) he often enjoyed. Each of these kingdoms reportedly had its own language. Departing from Lambri and heading north from Java minor for one hundred and fifty miles, they reached a small island named Necuram or Norcueran (likely Nancowry, one of the Nicobars), and then an island called Angaman (Andaman). From there, steering to the south-west for a thousand miles, they arrived at the island of Zeilan or Seilam, one of the largest in the world. The editions consulted are primarily the Italian of Ramusio, 1583, the Latin of Muller, 1671, and the French of Bergeron, 1735, which vary greatly in the spelling of proper names.
ODORICUS.
ODORICUS.
Odoricus, a friar, who commenced his travels in 1318 and died at Padua in 1331, had visited many parts of the East. From the southern part of the coast of Coromandel he proceeded by a navigation of twenty days to a country named Lamori (perhaps a corruption of the Arabian Al-rami), to the southward of which is another kingdom named Sumoltra, and not far from thence a large island named Java. His account, which was delivered orally to the person by whom it was written down, is extremely meagre and unsatisfactory.
Odoric, a friar, started his travels in 1318 and died in Padua in 1331. He traveled to many parts of the East. From the southern coast of Coromandel, he journeyed for twenty days by sea to a place called Lamori (possibly a distortion of the Arabic Al-rami). To the south of Lamori, there is another kingdom called Sumoltra, and nearby is a large island known as Java. His account, which was shared verbally with the person who recorded it, is very brief and lacks detail.
MANDEVILLE.
Mandeville.
Mandeville, who travelled in the fourteenth century, seems to have adopted the account of Odoricus when he says, "Beside the isle of Lemery is another that is clept Sumobor; and fast beside a great isle clept Java."
Mandeville, who traveled in the fourteenth century, appears to have taken his description from Odoricus when he mentions, "Next to the island of Lemery is another called Sumobor; and right next to it is a large island called Java."
NICOLO DI CONTI.
Nicolò di Conti.
Nicolo di Conti, of Venice, returned from his oriental travels in 1449 and communicated to the secretary of Pope Eugenius IV a much more consistent and satisfactory account of what he had seen than any of his predecessors. After giving a description of the cinnamon and other productions of Zeilam he says he sailed to a great island named Sumatra, called by the ancients Taprobana, where he was detained one year. His account of the pepper-plant, of the durian fruit, and of the extraordinary customs, now well ascertained, of the Batech or Batta people, prove him to have been an intelligent observer.
Nicolo di Conti from Venice returned from his travels in the East in 1449 and shared a much clearer and more reliable account of what he had seen with the secretary of Pope Eugenius IV than any of his predecessors. After describing the cinnamon and other products of Zeilam, he mentions that he sailed to a large island called Sumatra, known in ancient times as Taprobana, where he stayed for a year. His descriptions of the pepper plant, the durian fruit, and the unique customs of the Batech or Batta people demonstrate that he was an insightful observer.
ITINERARIUM PORTUGALLENSIUM.
Portugal Travel Guide.
A small work entitled Itinerarium Portugallensium, printed at Milan in 1508, after speaking of the island of Sayla, says that to the eastward of this there is another called Samotra, which we name Taprobane, distant from the city of Calechut about three months' voyage. The information appears to have been obtained from an Indian of Cranganore, on the coast of Malabar, who visited Lisbon in 1501.
A small work called Itinerarium Portugallensium, printed in Milan in 1508, mentions the island of Sayla and states that east of it lies another island named Samotra, which we refer to as Taprobane, about a three-month journey from the city of Calechut. This information seems to have come from an Indian from Cranganore, located on the coast of Malabar, who traveled to Lisbon in 1501.
LUDOVICO BARTHEMA.
Ludovico Barthema.
Ludovico Barthema (Vartoma) of Bologna, began his travels in 1503, and in 1505, after visiting Malacca, which he describes as being the resort of a greater quantity of shipping than any other port in the world, passed over to Pedir in Sumatra, which he concludes to be Taprobane. The productions of the island, he says, were chiefly exported to Catai or China. From Sumatra he proceeded to Banda and the Moluccas, from thence returned by Java and Malacca to the west of India, and arrived at Lisbon in 1508.
Ludovico Barthema (Vartoma) from Bologna started his travels in 1503. In 1505, after visiting Malacca, which he describes as having more ships than any other port in the world, he went to Pedir in Sumatra, which he believes is Taprobane. He noted that the island's main exports went to Catai or China. From Sumatra, he traveled to Banda and the Moluccas, then returned through Java and Malacca to the western part of India, arriving in Lisbon in 1508.
ODOARDUS BARBOSA.
ODOARDUS BARBOSA.
Odoardus Barbosa, of Lisbon, who concluded the journal of his voyage in 1516, speaks with much precision of Sumatra. He enumerates many places, both upon the coast and inland, by the names they now bear, among which he considers Pedir as the principal, distinguishes between the Mahometan inhabitants of the coast and the Pagans of the inland country; and mentions the extensive trade carried on by the former with Cambaia in the west of India.
Odoardus Barbosa from Lisbon, who finished his travel journal in 1516, speaks very clearly about Sumatra. He lists many locations, both on the coast and further inland, using the names they are known by today, and identifies Pedir as the main one. He distinguishes between the Muslim inhabitants of the coast and the pagans from the interior and notes the significant trade conducted by the former with Cambaia in western India.
ANTONIO PIGAFETTA.
ANTONIO PIGAFETTA.
In the account given by Antonio Pigafetta, the companion of Ferdinand Magellan, of the famous circumnavigatory voyage performed by the Spaniards in the years 1519 to 1522, it is stated that, from their apprehension of falling in with Portuguese ships, they pursued their westerly route from the island of Timor, by the Laut Kidol, or southern ocean, leaving on their right hand the island of Zamatra (written in another part of the journal, Somatra) or Taprobana of the ancients. Mention is also made of a native of that island being on board, who served them usefully as an interpreter in many of the places they visited; and we are here furnished with the earliest specimen of the Malayan language.
In the account by Antonio Pigafetta, who accompanied Ferdinand Magellan on the famous circumnavigatory voyage taken by the Spaniards from 1519 to 1522, it’s noted that, fearing encounters with Portuguese ships, they followed a westerly route from the island of Timor through the Laut Kidol, or southern ocean, passing the island of Zamatra (referred to elsewhere in the journal as Somatra) or the ancient Taprobana. There is also mention of a native from that island who traveled with them, serving as a valuable interpreter in many of the places they visited; this provides us with the earliest example of the Malayan language.
PORTUGUESE EXPEDITIONS.
PORTUGUESE EXPEDITIONS.
Previously however to this Spanish navigation of the Indian seas, by the way of South America, the expeditions of the Portuguese round the Cape of Good Hope had rendered the island well known, both in regard to its local circumstances and the manners of its inhabitants.
However, before this Spanish navigation of the Indian seas via South America, Portuguese expeditions around the Cape of Good Hope had made the island well-known, both for its local features and the customs of its inhabitants.
EMANUEL KING OF PORTUGAL.
Emanuel, King of Portugal.
In a letter from Emanuel King of Portugal to Pope Leo the Tenth, dated in 1513, he speaks of the discovery of Zamatra by his subjects; and the writings of Juan de Barros, Castaneda, Osorius, and Maffaeus, detail the operations of Diogo Lopez de Sequeira at Pedir and Pase in 1509, and those of the great Alfonso de Alboquerque at the same places, in 1511, immediately before his attack upon Malacca. Debarros also enumerates the names of twenty of the principal places of the island with considerable precision, and observes that the peninsula or chersonesus had the epithet of aurea given to it on account of the abundance of gold carried thither from Monancabo and Barros, countries in the island of C(cedilla)amatra.
In a letter from Emanuel, King of Portugal, to Pope Leo X, dated 1513, he mentions the discovery of Zamatra by his people. The writings of Juan de Barros, Castaneda, Osorius, and Maffaeus detail the activities of Diogo Lopez de Sequeira at Pedir and Pase in 1509, as well as those of the great Alfonso de Albuquerque at the same locations in 1511, just before his attack on Malacca. Debarros also lists the names of twenty key places on the island with notable accuracy and notes that the peninsula or chersonesus was called aurea because of the large amounts of gold brought there from Monancabo and Barros, regions on the island of C(cedilla)amatra.
Having thus noticed what has been written by persons who actually visited this part of India at an early period, or published from their oral communication by contemporaries, it will not be thought necessary to multiply authorities by quoting the works of subsequent commentators and geographers, who must have formed their judgments from the same original materials.
Having noticed what has been written by people who actually visited this part of India in the early days, or shared by their contemporaries, it won’t be necessary to add more sources by quoting the works of later commentators and geographers, who must have based their opinions on the same original materials.
NAME OF SUMATRA.
Name of Sumatra.
With respect to the name of Sumatra, we perceive that it was unknown both to the Arabian travellers and to Marco Polo, who indeed was not likely to acquire it from the savage natives with whom he had intercourse. The appellation of Java minor which he gives to the island seems to have been quite arbitrary, and not grounded upon any authority, European or Oriental, unless we can suppose that he had determined it to be the I'azadith nesos of Ptolemy; but from the other parts of his relation it does not appear that he was acquainted with the work of that great geographer, nor could he have used it with any practical advantage. At all events it could not have led him to the distinction of a greater and a lesser Java; and we may rather conclude that, having visited (or heard of) the great island properly so called, and not being able to learn the real name of another, which from its situation and size might well be regarded as a sister island, he applied the same to both, with the relative epithets of major and minor. That Ptolemy's Jaba-dib or dio was intended, however vaguely, for the island of Java, cannot be doubted. It must have been known to the Arabian merchants, and he was indefatigable in his inquiries; but at the same time that they communicated the name they might be ill qualified to describe its geographical position.
Regarding the name Sumatra, we see that it was unknown to both Arab travelers and Marco Polo, who probably didn't get it from the primitive natives he interacted with. The name "Java minor" he gives to the island seems to have been completely arbitrary and not based on any authority, either European or Asian, unless we assume he thought it was the I'azadith nesos from Ptolemy; however, from the rest of his accounts, it doesn't seem he knew about that great geographer's work, nor could he have used it practically. In any case, this wouldn't have led him to distinguish between a larger and a smaller Java. We can rather conclude that having visited (or heard about) the large island known as Java, and unable to discover the real name of another island that could be considered like a sister island due to its location and size, he applied the same name to both, adding "major" and "minor." It cannot be doubted that Ptolemy's Jaba-dib or dio was vaguely intended for the island of Java. It must have been known to Arabian merchants, and he was tireless in his inquiries; but while they shared the name, they might not have been able to accurately describe its geographical location.
In the rude narrative of Odoricus we perceive the first approach to the modern name in the word Sumoltra. Those who immediately followed him write it with a slight, and often inconsistent, variation in the orthography, Sumotra, Samotra, Zamatra, and Sumatra. But none of these travellers inform us from whom they learned it; whether from the natives or from persons who had been in the habits of frequenting it from the continent of India; which latter I think the more probable. Reland, an able oriental scholar, who directed his attention to the languages of the islands, says it obtains its appellation from a certain high land called Samadra, which he supposes to signify in the language of the country a large ant; but in fact there is not any spot so named; and although there is some resemblance between semut, the word for an ant, and the name in question, the etymology is quite fanciful. Others have imagined that they find an easy derivation in the word samatra, to be met with in some Spanish or Portuguese dictionaries, as signifying a sudden storm of wind and rain, and from whence our seamen may have borrowed the expression; but it is evident that the order of derivation is here reversed, and that the phrase is taken from the name of the land in the neighbourhood of which such squalls prevail. In a Persian work of the year 1611 the name of Shamatrah occurs as one of those places where the Portuguese had established themselves; and in some very modern Malayan correspondence I find the word Samantara employed (along with another more usual, which will be hereafter mentioned) to designate this island.
In the early account of Odoricus, we see the first mention of the modern name in the word Sumoltra. Those who followed him wrote it with slight and often inconsistent variations in spelling, such as Sumotra, Samotra, Zamatra, and Sumatra. However, none of these travelers tell us where they learned it; whether from the locals or from people who frequently visited it from the Indian continent, which I think is more likely. Reland, a skilled Oriental scholar who focused on the languages of the islands, claims it gets its name from a highland called Samadra, which he suggests means “large ant” in the local language, but actually, there is no place by that name. Although there is some similarity between semut, the word for ant, and the name in question, the etymology is purely speculative. Others have suggested an easy derivation from the word samatra, found in some Spanish or Portuguese dictionaries, meaning a sudden storm of wind and rain, from which our sailors may have adopted the term; but it’s clear the order of derivation is reversed here, and that the phrase is actually taken from the name of the area where such storms are common. In a Persian work from 1611, the name Shamatrah appears as one of the places where the Portuguese had settled; and in some very recent Malay correspondence, I find the word Samantara used (along with another more common term that will be mentioned later) to refer to this island.
PROBABLY DERIVED FROM THE SANSKRIT.
LIKELY ORIGINATED FROM SANSKRIT.
These, it is true, are not entirely free from the suspicion of having found their way to the Persians and Malays through the medium of European intercourse; but to a person who is conversant with the languages of the continent of India it must be obvious that the name, however written, bears a strong resemblance to words in the Sanskrit language: nor should this appear extraordinary when we consider (what is now fully admitted) that a large proportion of the Malayan is derived from that source, and that the names of many places in this and the neighbouring countries (such as Indrapura and Indragiri in Sumatra, Singapura at the extremity of the peninsula, and Sukapura and the mountain of Maha-meru in Java) are indisputably of Hindu origin. It is not my intention however to assign a precise etymology; but in order to show the general analogy to known Sanskrit terms it may be allowed to instance Samuder, the ancient name of the capital of the Carnatik, afterwards called Bider; Samudra-duta, which occurs in the Hetopadesa, as signifying the ambassador of the sea; the compound formed of su, good, and matra, measure; and more especially the word samantara, which implying a boundary, intermediate, or what lies between, might be thought to apply to the peculiar situation of an island intermediate between two oceans and two straits.
These names are not entirely free from the suspicion that they came to the Persians and Malays through European contact; however, for someone familiar with the languages of the Indian continent, it’s clear that the names, regardless of how they are written, closely resemble words in Sanskrit. This shouldn’t be surprising, considering (as is now widely accepted) that a significant portion of Malay language is derived from that source, and that names of various places in this region and neighboring areas, such as Indrapura and Indragiri in Sumatra, Singapura at the end of the peninsula, and Sukapura and Mount Maha-meru in Java, are undeniably of Hindu origin. I don’t intend to provide a specific etymology, but to illustrate the general similarities to known Sanskrit terms, I’ll mention Samuder, the old name for the capital of Carnatik, later known as Bider; Samudra-duta, which appears in the Hetopadesa, meaning the ambassador of the sea; the compound made up of su, meaning good, and matra, meaning measure; and particularly the word samantara, which implies a boundary or something in between, and could be relevant to the unique location of an island situated between two oceans and two straits.
NOT ENTIRELY UNKNOWN TO THE NATIVES.
NOT COMPLETELY UNKNOWN TO THE LOCALS.
When on a former occasion it was asserted (and with too much confidence) that the name of Sumatra is unknown to the natives, who are ignorant of its being an island, and have no general name for it, the expression ought to have been confined to those natives with whom I had an opportunity of conversing, in the southern part of the west coast, where much genuineness of manners prevails, with little of the spirit of commercial enterprise or communication with other countries. But even in situations more favourable for acquiring knowledge I believe it will be found that the inhabitants of very large islands, and especially if surrounded by smaller ones, are accustomed to consider their own as terra firma, and to look to no other geographical distinction than that of the district or nation to which they belong. Accordingly we find that the more general names have commonly been given by foreigners, and, as the Arabians chose to call this island Al-rami or Lameri, so the Hindus appear to have named it Sumatra or Samantara.
When it was previously claimed (and with too much certainty) that the name Sumatra is unknown to the locals, who don’t realize it’s an island and don’t have a general term for it, that statement should have been limited to the people I spoke with in the southern part of the west coast, where traditional customs are strong and there’s little spirit of trade or connection with other countries. However, even in places where gaining knowledge is easier, I believe it’s often the case that the inhabitants of very large islands, especially those surrounded by smaller ones, tend to think of their own land as solid ground and focus on local or national identities rather than broader geographical distinctions. As a result, more general names are typically given by outsiders, and just as the Arabs referred to this island as Al-rami or Lameri, the Hindus seem to have named it Sumatra or Samantara.
MALAYAN NAMES FOR THE ISLAND.
MALAYAN NAMES FOR THE ISLAND.
Since that period however, having become much better acquainted with Malayan literature, and perused the writings of various parts of the peninsula and islands where the language is spoken and cultivated, I am enabled to say that Sumatra is well known amongst the eastern people and the better-informed of the natives themselves by the two names of Indalas and Pulo percha (or in the southern dialect Pritcho).
Since that time, though, I've gotten much more familiar with Malayan literature and have read the works from different areas of the peninsula and islands where the language is spoken and developed. I can say that Sumatra is well-known among Eastern people and the more educated natives themselves by the two names Indalas and Pulo percha (or in the southern dialect, Pritcho).
INDALAS.
INDALAS.
Of the meaning or analogies of the former, which seems to have been applied to it chiefly by the neighbouring people of Java, I have not any conjecture, and only observe its resemblance (doubtless accidental) to the Arabian denomination of Spain or Andalusia. In one passage I find the Straits of Malacca termed the sea of Indalas, over which, we are gravely told, a bridge was thrown by Alexander the Great.
Of the meaning or similarities of the former, which appears to have been mainly used by the neighboring people of Java, I have no guesses, and I only note its resemblance (likely coincidental) to the Arabic name for Spain or Andalusia. In one instance, I find the Straits of Malacca referred to as the sea of Indalas, over which, we are seriously told, a bridge was built by Alexander the Great.
PERCHA.
PERCHA.
The latter and more common name is from a Malayan word signifying fragments or tatters, and the application is whimsically explained by the condition of the sails of the vessel in which the island was circumnavigated for the first time; but it may with more plausibility be supposed to allude to the broken or intersected land for which the eastern coast is so remarkable. It will indeed be seen in the map that in the vicinity of what are called Rupat's Straits there is a particular place of this description named Pulo Percha, or the Broken Islands. As to the appellation of Pulo Ber-api, or Volcano Island, which has also occurred, it is too indefinite for a proper name in a region of the globe where the phenomenon is by no means rare or peculiar, and should rather be considered as a descriptive epithet.
The more common name comes from a Malayan word meaning fragments or tatters. This is whimsically linked to the condition of the sails of the ship that first circumnavigated the island. However, it's more likely that the name refers to the broken or fragmented land that characterizes the eastern coast. If you look at the map, you'll see a specific area near what are called Rupat's Straits, known as Pulo Percha, or the Broken Islands. As for the name Pulo Ber-api, or Volcano Island, that has also been used, it’s too vague to be an appropriate name in a region where volcanic activity is not uncommon and should be viewed more as a descriptive term.
MAGNITUDE.
Magnitude.
In respect to magnitude, it ranks amongst the largest islands in the world; but its breadth throughout is determined with so little accuracy that any attempt to calculate its superficies must be liable to very considerable error. Like Great Britain it is broadest at the southern extremity, narrowing gradually to the north; and to this island it is perhaps in size more nearly allied than in shape.
In terms of size, it’s one of the largest islands in the world; however, its width is measured with such little precision that any attempt to estimate its surface area could have significant inaccuracies. Similar to Great Britain, it is widest at the southern end, gradually narrowing as it goes north. In terms of size, it's probably more similar to Great Britain than in its shape.
MOUNTAINS.
MOUNTAINS.
A chain of mountains runs through its whole extent, the ranges being in many parts double and treble, but situated in general much nearer to the western than the opposite coast, being on the former seldom so much as twenty miles from the sea, whilst on the eastern side the extent of level country, in the broader part of the island, through which run the great rivers of Siak, Indragiri, Jambi, and Palembang, cannot be less than a hundred and fifty. The height of these mountains, though very great, is not sufficient to occasion their being covered with snow during any part of the year, as those in South America between the tropics are found to be. Mount Ophir,* or Gunong Pasaman, situated immediately under the equinoctial line, is supposed to be the highest visible from the sea, its summit being elevated thirteen thousand eight hundred and forty-two feet above that level; which is no more than two-thirds of the altitude the French astronomers have ascribed to the loftiest of the Andes, but somewhat exceeds that of the Peak of Tenerife.
A mountain range stretches across the entire area, with many parts being double or triple in elevation. However, they are generally much closer to the western coast than to the eastern one, often located less than twenty miles from the sea on the west side. In contrast, the eastern side features a wide expanse of flat land, particularly in the broader part of the island, where significant rivers like Siak, Indragiri, Jambi, and Palembang flow, covering at least one hundred and fifty miles. Although these mountains are quite high, they don’t have snow on them at any time of the year, unlike those in South America found between the tropics. Mount Ophir, or Gunong Pasaman, located right under the equator, is believed to be the tallest mountain visible from the sea, standing at thirteen thousand eight hundred and forty-two feet above sea level. This height is only about two-thirds of what French astronomers attribute to the highest peaks of the Andes but is slightly taller than the Peak of Tenerife.
(*Footnote. The following is the result of observations made by Mr. Robert Nairne of the height of Mount Ophir:Height of the peak above the level of the sea, in feet: 13,842.
English miles: 2.6216.
Nautical miles: 2.26325.
Inland, nearly: 26 nautical miles.
Distance from Massang Point: 32 nautical miles.
Distance at sea before the peak is sunk under the horizon: 125 nautical miles.
Latitude of the peak: 0 degrees 6 minutes north.
A volcano mountain, south of Ophir, is short of that in height by: 1377 feet.
Inland, nearly 29 nautical miles.
In order to form a comparison I subjoin the height, as computed by mathematicians, of other mountains in different parts of the world:
Chimborazo, the highest of the Andes, 3220 toises or 20,633 English feet. Of this about 2400 feet from the summit are covered with eternal snow.
Carazon, ascended by the French astronomers: 15,800 English feet.
Peak of Tenerife. Feuille: 2270 toises or 13,265 feet.
Mount Blanc, Savoy. Sr. G. Shuckburgh: 15,662.
Mount Etna, Sr. G. Shuckburgh: 10,954.
(*Footnote. The following information comes from observations made by Mr. Robert Nairne regarding the height of Mount Ophir:Height of the peak above sea level, in feet: 13,842.
English miles: 2.6216.
Nautical miles: 2.26325.
Inland, approximately: 26 nautical miles.
Distance from Massang Point: 32 nautical miles.
Distance at sea before the peak disappears below the horizon: 125 nautical miles.
Latitude of the peak: 0 degrees 6 minutes north.
A volcano mountain, south of Ophir, is shorter by: 1,377 feet.
Inland, approximately 29 nautical miles.
For comparison, here are the heights, as calculated by mathematicians, of other mountains in various parts of the world:
Chimborazo, the highest of the Andes, 3,220 toises or 20,633 English feet. About 2,400 feet of the summit are covered with eternal snow.
Carazon, climbed by French astronomers: 15,800 English feet.
Peak of Tenerife. Feuille: 2,270 toises or 13,265 feet.
Mont Blanc, Savoy. Sr. G. Shuckburgh: 15,662.
Mount Etna, Sr. G. Shuckburgh: 10,954.
Between these ridges of mountains are extensive plains, considerably elevated above the surface of the maritime lands, where the air is cool; and from this advantage they are esteemed the most eligible portion of the country, are consequently the best inhabited and the most cleared from woods, which elsewhere in general throughout Sumatra cover both hills and valleys with an eternal shade. Here too are found many large and beautiful lakes that extend at intervals through the heart of the country, and facilitate much the communication between the different parts, but their dimensions, situation, or direction, are very little known, though the natives make frequent mention of them in the accounts of their journeys. Those principally spoken of are: one of great extent but unascertained situation in the Batta country; one in the Korinchi country, lately visited by Mr. C. Campbel; and another in the Lampong country, extending towards Pasummah, navigated by boats of a large class with sails, and requires a day and night to effect the passage across it; which may be the case in the rainy season, as that part of the island through which the Tulang Bawang River flows is subject to extensive inundations, causing it to communicate with the river of the Palembang. In a journey made many years since by a son of the sultan of the latter place, to visit the English resident at Croee, he is said to have proceeded by the way of that lake. It is much to be regretted that the situation of so important a feature in the geography of the island should be at this day the subject of uncertain conjecture.
Between these mountain ridges are wide plains, noticeably higher than the coastal areas, where the air is cool. Because of this, they are considered the most favorable part of the country, leading to these areas being the best populated and the most cleared of woods, which generally blanket both hills and valleys throughout Sumatra in perpetual shade. Here, you can also find many large and beautiful lakes that run through the heart of the country, making communication between different areas much easier. However, their sizes, locations, or orientations are not well known, even though locals frequently mention them in their travel accounts. The most commonly referenced ones are: a large lake with an unknown location in the Batta region; one in the Korinchi area, recently visited by Mr. C. Campbel; and another in the Lampong region that stretches toward Pasummah, navigated by large sailboats, requiring a full day and night to cross, especially during the rainy season, as that part of the island where the Tulang Bawang River flows is prone to significant flooding, connecting it with the Palembang River. Many years ago, a son of the sultan from that area is said to have traveled to visit the English representative at Croee by way of that lake. It is unfortunate that such an important geographical feature of the island remains uncertain today.
WATERFALLS.
Waterfalls.
Waterfalls and cascades are not uncommon, as may be supposed in a country of so uneven a surface as that of the western coast. A remarkable one descends from the north side of Mount Pugong. The island of Mansalar, lying off and affording shelter to the bay of Tappanuli, presents to the view a fall of very striking appearance, the reservoir of which the natives assert (in their fondness for the marvellous) to be a huge shell of the species called kima (Chama gigas) found in great quantities in that bay, as well as at New Guinea and other parts of the east.* At the bottom of this fall ships occasionally take in their water without being under the necessity of landing their casks; but such attempts are liable to extreme hazard. A ship from England (the Elgin) attracted by the appearance from sea of a small but beautiful cascade descending perpendicularly from the steep cliff, that, like an immense rampart, lines the seashore near Manna, sent a boat in order to procure fresh water; but she was lost in the surf, and the crew drowned.
Waterfalls and cascades are quite common, especially in a country with such uneven terrain like the western coast. A notable one flows down from the north side of Mount Pugong. The island of Mansalar, which provides shelter to the bay of Tappanuli, features a striking waterfall. The locals claim (in their love for the fantastic) that its reservoir is a giant shell of the species called kima (Chama gigas), found abundantly in that bay as well as in New Guinea and other eastern locations.* At the base of this waterfall, ships sometimes fill their tanks without needing to unload their barrels, but attempting this is extremely risky. A ship from England (the Elgin), drawn by the sight of a small but beautiful cascade streaming down vertically from the steep cliff that resembles a huge wall along the shore near Manna, sent a boat to fetch fresh water; however, it was lost in the surf, and the crew drowned.
(*Footnote. The largest I have seen was brought from Tappanuli by Mr. James Moore of Arno's Vale in the north of Ireland. It is 3 feet 3 1/2 inches in its longest diameter, and 2 feet 1 1/4 inches across. One of the methods of taking them in deep water is by thrusting a long bamboo between the valves as they lie open, when, by the immediate closure which follows, they are made fast. The substance of the shell is perfectly white, several inches thick, is worked by the natives into arm-rings, and in the hands of our artists is found to take a polish equal to the finest statuary marble.)
(*Footnote. The largest one I've seen was brought from Tappanuli by Mr. James Moore of Arno's Vale in northern Ireland. It measures 3 feet 3 1/2 inches in its longest diameter and 2 feet 1 1/4 inches across. One way to catch them in deep water is by inserting a long bamboo between the shells while they are open, which causes them to shut quickly and become secured. The shell material is perfectly white, several inches thick, and is crafted by the locals into arm-rings. In the hands of our artists, it can be polished to a finish that rivals the finest statuary marble.)
RIVERS.
Rivers.
No country in the world is better supplied with water than the western coast of the island. Springs are found wherever they are sought for, and the rivers are innumerable; but they are in general too small and rapid for the purpose of navigation. The vicinity of the mountains to that side of the island occasions this profusion of rivulets, and at the same time the imperfections that attend them, by not allowing them space to accumulate to any considerable size. On the eastern coast the distance of the range of hills not only affords a larger scope for the course of the rivers before they disembogue, presents a greater surface for the receptacle of rain and vapours, and enables them to unite a greater number of subsidiary streams, but also renders the flux more steady and uniform by the extent of level space than where the torrent rolls more immediately from the mountains. But it is not to be understood that on the western side there are no large rivers. Kataun, Indrapura, Tabuyong, and Sinkel have a claim to that title, although inferior in size to Palembang, Jambi, Indragiri, and Siak. The latter derive also a material advantage from the shelter given to them by the peninsula of Malacca, and Borneo, Banca, and the other islands of the Archipelago, which, breaking the force of the sea, prevent the surf from forming those bars that choke the entrance of the south-western rivers, and render them impracticable to boats of any considerable draught of water. These labour too under this additional inconvenience that scarcely any except the largest run out to sea in a direct course. The continual action of the surf, more powerful than the ordinary force of the stream, throws up at their mouths a bank of sand, which in many instances has the effect of diverting their course to a direction parallel with the shore, between the cliffs and the beach, until the accumulated waters at length force their way wherever there is found the weakest resistance. In the southerly monsoon, when the surfs are usually highest, and the streams, from the dryness of the weather, least rapid, this parallel course is of the greatest extent; and Moco-moco River takes a course, at times, of two or three miles in this manner, before it mixes with the sea; but as the rivers swell with the rain they gradually remove obstructions and recover their natural channel.
No country in the world has better access to water than the western coast of the island. Springs are found wherever they're looked for, and there are countless rivers; however, they are generally too small and fast for navigation. The proximity of the mountains on that side of the island creates this abundance of streams, while at the same time causing the limitations that prevent them from growing to a significant size. On the eastern coast, the distance from the mountain range allows rivers to have a larger flow before they empty into the sea, offers a bigger area for rain and vapor to gather, and lets them merge with more smaller streams. This also leads to a steadier and more uniform flow compared to the torrents that rush straight down from the mountains. However, it shouldn't be assumed that there are no large rivers on the western side. Kataun, Indrapura, Tabuyong, and Sinkel can claim to be large rivers, even though they are smaller than Palembang, Jambi, Indragiri, and Siak. The latter also benefit significantly from the shelter provided by the peninsula of Malacca and islands like Borneo and Banca, which break the force of the sea and prevent waves from creating sand bars that block the entrances of the southwestern rivers, making them impassable for boats with a significant draft. These rivers also face the additional issue that, except for the biggest ones, very few flow directly into the sea. The ongoing action of the surf, which is stronger than the usual current, builds up a sandbank at their mouths, often redirecting their flow parallel to the shore, between the cliffs and the beach, until the accumulated water forces its way through wherever there's the least resistance. During the south monsoon, when the surf is usually at its highest and the streams are least powerful due to dry weather, this parallel flow extends significantly; Moco-moco River, at times, takes a route of two or three miles this way before joining the sea. However, as the rivers swell with rain, they gradually clear obstructions and return to their natural course.
AIR.
Air.
The heat of the air is by no means so intense as might be expected in a country occupying the middle of the torrid zone. It is more temperate than in many regions without the tropics, the thermometer, at the most sultry hour, which is about two in the afternoon, generally fluctuating between 82 and 85 degrees. I do not recollect to have ever seen it higher than 86 in the shade, at Fort Marlborough; although at Natal, in latitude 34 minutes north, it is not unfrequently at 87 and 88 degrees. At sunrise it is usually as low as 70; the sensation of cold however is much greater than this would seem to indicate, as it occasions shivering and a chattering of the teeth; doubtless from the greater relaxation of the body and openness of the pores in that climate; for the same temperature in England would be esteemed a considerable degree of warmth. These observations on the state of the air apply only to the districts near the sea-coast, where, from their comparatively low situation, and the greater compression of the atmosphere, the sun's rays operate more powerfully. Inland, as the country ascends, the degree of heat decreases rapidly, insomuch that beyond the first range of hills the inhabitants find it expedient to light fires in the morning, and continue them till the day is advanced, for the purpose of warming themselves; a practice unknown in the other parts of the island; and in the journal of Lieutenant Dare's expedition it appears that during one night's halt on the summit of a mountain, in the rainy season, he lost several of his party from the severity of the weather, whilst the thermometer was not lower than 40 degrees. To the cold also they attribute the backwardness in growth of the coconut-tree, which is sometimes twenty or thirty years in coming to perfection, and often fails to produce fruit. Situations are uniformly colder in proportion to their height above the level of the sea, unless where local circumstances, such as the neighbourhood of sandy plains, contribute to produce a contrary effect; but in Sumatra the coolness of the air is promoted by the quality of the soil, which is clayey, and the constant and strong verdure that prevails, which, by absorbing the sun's rays, prevents the effect of their reflection. The circumstance of the island being so narrow contributes also to its general temperateness, as wind directly or recently from the sea is seldom possessed of any violent degree of heat, usually acquired in passing over large tracts of land in the tropical climates. Frost, snow, and hail I believe to be unknown to the inhabitants. The hill-people in the country of Lampong speak indeed of a peculiar kind of rain that falls there, which some have supposed to be what we call sleet; but the fact is not sufficiently established. The atmosphere is in common more cloudy than in Europe, which is sensibly perceived from the infrequency of clear starlight nights. This may proceed from the greater rarefaction of the air occasioning the clouds to descend lower and become more opaque, or merely from the stronger heat exhaling from the land and sea a thicker and more plentiful vapour. The fog, called kabut by the natives, which is observed to rise every morning among the distant hills, is dense to a surprising degree; the extremities of it, even when near at hand, being perfectly defined; and it seldom is observed to disperse till about three hours after sunrise.
The air doesn't get nearly as hot as you might expect for a place in the middle of the tropics. It's actually cooler than in many areas outside the tropics, with temperatures at their highest, around 2 PM, usually ranging from 82 to 85 degrees. I can’t remember ever seeing it go above 86 in the shade at Fort Marlborough, even though in Natal, which is located 34 minutes north of the equator, it often hits 87 and 88 degrees. At sunrise, temperatures usually drop to around 70; however, the chill feels much more intense than that suggests, causing shivering and chattering teeth—likely because the body relaxes more and the pores open in that climate. The same temperature in England would be considered quite warm. These observations about the air apply only to the coastal areas, where the lower altitude and denser atmosphere make the sun's rays feel stronger. As you move inland and the land rises, the heat drops quickly, so beyond the first range of hills, locals often find it necessary to light fires in the morning and keep them going until later in the day to stay warm—a practice that isn't needed in other parts of the island. In Lieutenant Dare's expedition journal, it’s noted that during one night on a mountain summit in the rainy season, several of his team members suffered from the severe weather, even though the thermometer was no lower than 40 degrees. The cold is also thought to slow down the growth of coconut trees, which can take twenty to thirty years to mature and often don’t produce fruit. Generally, areas are colder the higher they are above sea level, unless local conditions, like the presence of sandy plains, create a different effect. But in Sumatra, the coolness in the air is enhanced by the clay-like soil and the vibrant greenery that absorbs the sun's rays, reducing the impact of their reflection. The narrowness of the island also helps keep temperatures moderate since winds coming directly from the sea are rarely intensely hot after passing over large stretches of land in tropical regions. I believe frost, snow, and hail are unknown to the locals. The hill tribes in Lampong talk about a unique type of rain that falls there, which some speculate might be sleet, but this hasn’t been confirmed. Generally, the atmosphere is cloudier than in Europe, noticeable from the rarity of clear starry nights. This may be due to the thinner air causing clouds to form lower and appear denser, or simply because the land and sea emit more heat, creating thicker and more abundant vapor. The fog, known as kabut by the locals, rises every morning among the distant hills and is surprisingly dense; even when you're close, the edges are sharply defined, and it usually doesn’t clear up until about three hours after sunrise.
WATERSPOUT.
Waterspout.
That extraordinary phenomenon, the waterspout, so well known to and described by navigators, frequently makes its appearance in these parts, and occasionally on shore. I had seen many at sea; but the largest and most distinct (from its proximity) that I had an opportunity of observing, presented itself to me whilst on horseback. I was so near to it that I could perceive what appeared to be an inward gyration, distinct from the volume surrounding it or body of the tube; but am aware that this might have been a deception of sight, and that it was the exterior part which actually revolved--as quiescent bodies seem to persons in quick motion, to recede in a contrary direction. Like other waterspouts it was sometimes perpendicular and sometimes curved, like the pipe of a still-head, its course tending in a direction from Bencoolen Bay across the peninsula on which the English settlement stands; but before it reached the sea on the other side it diminished by degrees, as if from want of the supplies that should be furnished by its proper element, and collected itself into the cloud from which it depended, without any consequent fall of water or destructive effect. The whole operation we may presume to be of the nature of a whirlwind, and the violent ebullition in that part of the sea to which the lower extremity of the tube points to be a corresponding effect to the agitation of the leaves or sand on shore, which in some instances are raised to a vast height; but in the formation of the waterspout the rotatory motion of the wind acts not only upon the surface of the land or sea, but also upon the overhanging cloud, and seems to draw it downwards.
That amazing phenomenon, the waterspout, which navigators know and describe well, often appears in these areas, and sometimes even on land. I had seen many at sea, but the largest and clearest one I ever observed up close happened while I was on horseback. I was so close that I could see what looked like an inward rotation, separate from the mass around it or the body of the tube; however, I acknowledge that this could have been an optical illusion, and it might have been the outer part that was actually spinning—like stationary objects can seem to move in the opposite direction when we are in rapid motion. Like other waterspouts, it was occasionally vertical and sometimes curved, resembling a pipe from a distillation apparatus, moving from Bencoolen Bay across the peninsula where the English settlement is located; but before it reached the sea on the other side, it gradually shrank, as if lacking the necessary supplies from its proper element, and merged back into the cloud from which it hung, without any resulting rainfall or destructive impact. We can assume that the whole process is similar to a whirlwind, and the strong turbulence in the part of the sea where the bottom of the tube points corresponds to the agitation of leaves or sand on the shore, which can sometimes be lifted to great heights; but during the formation of the waterspout, the swirling wind affects not only the surface of the land or sea but also the overhanging cloud, seemingly pulling it downward.
THUNDER AND LIGHTNING.
Thunder and lightning.
Thunder and lightning are there so very frequent as scarcely to attract the attention of persons long resident in the country. During the north-west monsoon the explosions are extremely violent; the forked lightning shoots in all directions, and the whole sky seems on fire, whilst the ground is agitated in a degree little inferior to the motion of a slight earthquake. In the south-east monsoon the lightning is more constant, but the coruscations are less fierce or bright, and the thunder is scarcely audible. It would seem that the consequences of these awful meteors are not so fatal there as in Europe, few instances occurring of lives being lost or buildings destroyed by the explosions, although electrical conductors have never been employed. Perhaps the paucity of inhabitants in proportion to the extent of country and the unsubstantial materials of the houses may contribute to this observation. I have seen some trees, however, that have been shattered in Sumatra by the action of lightning.*
Thunder and lightning happen so often that they barely catch the attention of people who have lived in the area for a long time. During the north-west monsoon, the storms are extremely violent; lightning strikes in all directions, and the whole sky looks like it’s on fire, while the ground shakes almost like a slight earthquake. In the south-east monsoon, the lightning is more consistent, but the flashes are less intense or bright, and the thunder is hardly audible. It seems that the effects of these terrifying storms are not as deadly here as they are in Europe, with few reports of lives lost or buildings destroyed by the strikes, even though they don't use electrical conductors. Maybe the low population relative to the size of the country and the lightweight materials of the houses play a role in this. However, I have seen some trees in Sumatra that have been shattered by lightning.*
(*Footnote. Since the above was written accounts have been received that a magazine at Fort Marlborough, containing four hundred barrels of powder, was fired by lightning and blown up on the 18th of March 1782.)
(*Footnote. Since the above was written, we've received reports that a magazine at Fort Marlborough, which held four hundred barrels of powder, was struck by lightning and exploded on March 18, 1782.)
MONSOONS.
MONSOONS.
The causes which produce a successive variety of seasons in the parts of the earth without the tropics, having no relation or respect to the region of the torrid zone, a different order takes place there, and the year is distinguished into two divisions, usually called the rainy and dry monsoons or seasons, from the weather peculiar to each. In the several parts of India these monsoons are governed by various particular laws in regard to the time of their commencement, period of duration, circumstances attending their change, and direction of the prevailing wind according to the nature and situation of the lands and coasts where their influence is felt. The farther peninsula of India, where the kingdom of Siam lies, experiences at the same time the effects of opposite seasons; the western side, in the Bay of Bengal, being exposed for half the year to continual rains, whilst on the eastern side the finest weather is enjoyed; and so on the different coasts of Indostan the monsoons exert their influence alternately; the one remaining serene and undisturbed whilst the other is agitated by storms. Along the coast of Coromandel the change, or breaking up of the monsoon as it is called, is frequently attended with the most violent gales of wind.
The reasons for the changing seasons in areas of the Earth outside the tropics do not apply to the torrid zone, where a different pattern occurs. The year is typically divided into two seasons, known as the rainy and dry monsoons, based on the specific weather associated with each. In various regions of India, these monsoons are dictated by different factors regarding their start time, duration, conditions of change, and wind direction, depending on the land and coastlines affected. In the southeastern part of India, where the kingdom of Siam is located, the area experiences opposite seasons at the same time; the western part, in the Bay of Bengal, faces continuous rains for half the year, while the eastern side enjoys perfect weather. Similarly, different coasts of India experience monsoons alternately; one side remains calm and clear while the other is buffeted by storms. Along the Coromandel coast, the transition of the monsoon, known as its "break," is often accompanied by extremely strong winds.
On the west coast of Sumatra, southward of the equinoctial, the south-east monsoon or dry season begins about May and slackens in September: the north-west monsoon begins about November, and the hard rains cease about March. The monsoons for the most part commence and leave off gradually there; the months of April and May, October and November generally affording weather and winds variable and uncertain.
On the west coast of Sumatra, just south of the equator, the southeast monsoon, or dry season, starts around May and eases off in September. The northwest monsoon kicks in around November, and the heavy rains wrap up around March. Typically, the monsoons begin and end gradually; April and May, as well as October and November, usually bring unpredictable weather and winds.
CAUSE OF THE MONSOONS.
MONSOON CAUSES.
The causes of these periodical winds have been investigated by several able naturalists, whose systems, however, do not entirely correspond either in the principles laid down or in their application to the effects known to be produced in different parts of the globe. I shall summarily mention what appear to be the most evident, or probable at least, among the general laws, or inferences, which have been deduced from the examination of this subject. If the sea were perfectly uninterrupted and free from the irregular influence of lands, a perpetual easterly wind would prevail in all that space comprehended between the twenty-eighth or thirteenth degrees of north and south latitude. This is primarily occasioned by the diurnal revolution of the earth upon its axis from west to east; but whether through the operation of the sun, proceeding westward, upon the atmospheric fluid, or the rapidity of revolution of the solid body, which leaves behind it that fluid with which it is surrounded, and thereby causes it virtually to recede in a contrary direction; or whether these principles cooperate, or unequally oppose each other, as has been ingeniously contended, I shall not take upon me to decide. It is sufficient to say that such an effect appears to be the first general law of the tropical winds. Whatever may be the degree of the sun's influence upon the atmosphere in his transient diurnal course, it cannot be doubted but that, in regard to his station in the path of the ecliptic, his power is considerable. Towards that region of the air which is rarefied by the more immediate presence of the heat, the colder and denser parts will naturally flow. Consequently from about, and a few degrees beyond, the tropics, on either side, the air tends towards the equator; and, combining with the general eastern current before mentioned, produces (or would, if the surface were uniform) a north-east wind in the northern division, and a south-east in the southern; varying in the extent of its course as the sun happens to be more or less remote at the time. These are denominated the trade-winds, and are the subject of the second general observation. It is evident that, with respect to the middle space between the tropics, those parts which at one season of the year lie to the northward of the sun, are, during another, to the southward of him; and of course that an alteration of the effects last described must take place, according to the relative situation of the luminary; or in other words, that the principle which causes at one time a north-east wind to prevail at any particular spot in those latitudes must, when the circumstances are changed, occasion a south-east wind. Such may be esteemed the outline of the periodical winds, which undoubtedly depend upon the alternate course of the sun northwards and southwards; and this I state as the third general law. But although this may be conformable with experience in extensive oceans, yet, in the vicinity of continents and great islands, deviations are remarked that almost seem to overturn the principle. Along the western coast of Africa and in some parts of the Indian seas, the periodical winds, or monsoons as they are termed in the latter, blow from the west-north-west and south-west, according to the situation, extent, and nature of the nearest lands; the effect of which upon the incumbent atmosphere, when heated by the sun at those seasons in which he is vertical, is prodigious, and possibly superior to that of any other cause which contributes to the production or direction of wind. To trace the operation of this irregular principle through the several winds prevalent in India, and their periodical failures and changes, would prove an intricate but, I conceive, by no means an impossible task.* It is foreign however to my present purpose, and I shall only observe that the north-east monsoon is changed, on the western coast of Sumatra, to north-west or west-north-west by the influence of the land. During the south-east monsoon the wind is found to blow there, between that point and south. Whilst the sun continues near the equator the winds are variable, nor is their direction fixed till he has advanced several degrees towards the tropic: and this is the cause of the monsoons usually setting in, as I have observed, about May and November, instead of the equinoctial months.
The causes of these seasonal winds have been examined by several skilled naturalists, whose theories, however, do not fully align either in the principles established or in their application to the effects observed in different regions around the world. I will briefly mention what seems to be the most obvious, or at least probable, among the general laws or conclusions drawn from studying this topic. If the ocean were completely uninterrupted and not affected by the irregular presence of land, a constant easterly wind would dominate in all the area between the twenty-eighth or thirteenth degrees of north and south latitude. This is mainly due to the daily rotation of the Earth on its axis from west to east; but whether this is caused by the sun moving westward influencing the atmosphere, or by the speed of rotation of the solid body dragging the surrounding fluid with it, causing it to effectively retreat in the opposite direction, or whether these factors work together or oppose each other, as has been cleverly argued, I won’t attempt to decide. It is enough to say that this effect seems to be the first general rule of the tropical winds. Regardless of the extent of the sun’s influence on the atmosphere during its daily path, it can’t be disputed that, regarding its position in the ecliptic, its power is significant. In the part of the atmosphere heated by the sun, the cooler and denser areas will naturally flow in. Therefore, from around, and a few degrees beyond, the tropics on either side, the air moves toward the equator; and, when combined with the previously mentioned general eastern current, this creates (or would create if the surface were uniform) a north-east wind in the northern part and a south-east wind in the southern part, varying in distance as the sun is more or less distant at the time. These are called the trade winds and represent the second general observation. It is clear that, in relation to the area between the tropics, the parts that are north of the sun one season are south of him during another; and therefore, a change in the effects described must occur, according to the relative position of the sun; or, in other words, the factor that causes a north-east wind to blow at a certain spot in those latitudes must, when circumstances change, cause a south-east wind. This can be seen as the outline of the seasonal winds, which undoubtedly depend on the sun’s alternating path north and south; and I state this as the third general law. However, while this may be consistent with experience in vast oceans, close to continents and large islands, deviations are noticed that almost seem to contradict this principle. Along the western coast of Africa and in some areas of the Indian seas, the seasonal winds, or monsoons as they are called in the latter, blow from the west-north-west and south-west, depending on the position, extent, and characteristics of nearby lands; the effect of this on the surrounding atmosphere, when heated by the sun during the times when he is directly overhead, is immense, and possibly greater than any other factor that contributes to the creation or direction of wind. It would be a complex task, yet I believe not impossible, to track how this irregular principle operates through the various winds prevalent in India and their seasonal failures and changes. However, it is not the focus of my current purpose, and I will just point out that the north-east monsoon is shifted on the western coast of Sumatra to north-west or west-north-west due to land influence. During the south-east monsoon, the wind is found blowing there between that point and south. While the sun is near the equator, the winds are variable, and their direction isn’t fixed until he has moved several degrees toward the tropic: and this explains why the monsoons usually begin, as I’ve noted, around May and November, rather than during the equinoctial months.
(*Footnote. It has been attempted, and with much ingenious reasoning, by Mr. Semeyns in the third volume of the Haerlem Transactions which have but lately fallen into my hands.)
(*Footnote. Mr. Semeyns has attempted this, using a lot of clever reasoning, in the third volume of the Haerlem Transactions, which I just recently came across.)
LAND AND SEA BREEZES.
Land and sea breezes.
Thus much is sufficient with regard to the periodical winds. I shall proceed to give an account of those distinguished by the appellation of land and sea breezes, which require from me a minuter investigation, both because, as being more local, they more especially belong to my subject, and that their nature has hitherto been less particularly treated of by naturalists.
Thus much is enough regarding the periodic winds. I'll now give an account of what are known as land and sea breezes, which need a more detailed investigation from me, both because they are more local and closely related to my topic, and because their nature has not yet been thoroughly examined by naturalists.
In this island, as well as all other countries between the tropics of any considerable extent, the wind uniformly blows from the sea to the land for a certain number of hours in the four and twenty, and then changes and blows for about as many from the land to the sea; excepting only when the monsoon rages with remarkable violence, and even at such time the wind rarely fails to incline a few points, in compliance with the efforts of the subordinate clause, which has not power, under these circumstances, to produce an entire change. On the west coast of Sumatra the sea-breeze usually sets in, after an hour or two of calm, about ten in the forenoon, and continues till near six in the evening. About seven the land-breeze comes off, and prevails through the night till towards eight in the morning, when it gradually dies away.
On this island, like in all other countries between the tropics that are of any significant size, the wind generally blows from the sea to the land for a certain number of hours throughout the day, then shifts to blow from the land back to the sea for about the same amount of time. This pattern changes only when the monsoon hits with notable force, although even then, the wind rarely changes direction completely; it may shift slightly due to the influence of the subordinate clause, which isn’t strong enough in these situations to cause a total shift. On the west coast of Sumatra, the sea breeze typically starts after an hour or two of calm around ten in the morning and continues until nearly six in the evening. Around seven, the land breeze kicks in and lasts through the night until about eight in the morning, when it gradually fades away.
CAUSE OF THE LAND AND SEA-BREEZES.
CAUSE OF THE LAND AND SEA BREEZES.
These depend upon the same general principle that causes and regulates all other wind. Heat acting upon air rarefies it, by which it becomes specifically lighter, and mounts upward. The denser parts of the atmosphere which surround that so rarefied, rush into the vacuity from their superior weight; endeavouring, as the laws of gravity require, to restore the equilibrium. Thus in the round buildings where the manufactory of glass is carried on, the heat of the furnace in the centre being intense, a violent current of air may be perceived to force its way in, through doors or crevices, on opposite sides of the house. As the general winds are caused by the DIRECT influence of the sun's rays upon the atmosphere, that particular deviation of the current distinguished by the name of land and sea breezes is caused by the influence of his REFLECTED rays, returned from the earth or sea on which they strike. The surface of the earth is more suddenly heated by the rays of the sun than that of the sea, from its greater density and state of rest; consequently it reflects those rays sooner and with more power: but, owing also to its density, the heat is more superficial than that imbibed by the sea, which becomes more intimately warmed by its transparency and by its motion, continually presenting a fresh surface to the sun. I shall now endeavour to apply these principles. By the time the rising sun has ascended to the height of thirty or forty degrees above the horizon the earth has acquired, and reflected on the body of air situated over it, a degree of heat sufficient to rarefy it and destroy its equilibrium; in consequence of which the body of air above the sea, not being equally, or scarcely at all, rarefied, rushes towards the land and the same causes operating so long as the sun continues above the horizon, a constant sea-breeze, or current of air from sea to land, prevails during that time. From about an hour before sunset the surface of the earth begins to lose the heat it has acquired from the more perpendicular rays. That influence of course ceases, and a calm succeeds. The warmth imparted to the sea, not so violent as that of the land but more deeply imbibed, and consequently more permanent, now acts in turn, and by the rarefaction it causes draws towards its region the land air, grown cooler, more dense, and heavier, which continues thus to flow back till the earth, by a renovation of its heat in the morning, once more obtains the ascendancy. Such is the general rule, conformable with experience, and founded, as it seems to me, in the laws of motion and the nature of things. The following observations will serve to corroborate what I have advanced, and to throw additional light on the subject for the information and guidance of any future investigator.
These processes are based on the same basic principle that governs all wind. Heat acts on air, making it less dense, so it rises. The denser air around that lighter air rushes in to fill the space because of its weight, trying to restore balance, as gravity dictates. Thus, in circular buildings where glass is made, the intense heat from the furnace at the center creates a strong air current that pushes its way in through doors or cracks on opposite sides of the building. While general winds are caused by the direct influence of the sun's rays on the atmosphere, the specific currents known as land and sea breezes are created by the influence of reflected rays that bounce off the earth or sea. The ground heats up faster from the sun's rays than the sea does because it is denser and stationary; therefore, it reflects those rays more quickly and powerfully. However, due to its density, the heat in the ground is more superficial compared to the sea, which warms up more thoroughly because of its transparency and motion, constantly presenting a fresh surface to the sun. Now, I will apply these principles. By the time the sun rises to about thirty or forty degrees above the horizon, the ground has gained and reflected enough heat onto the air above it to make it rise and upset the balance. As a result, the air over the sea, which is not affected—or barely affected—by rarefaction, rushes toward the land. This process continues as long as the sun is above the horizon, producing a steady sea breeze from the sea to the land during that time. About an hour before sunset, the earth starts to lose the heat it gained from the direct rays of the sun. That influence fades away, leading to calm conditions. The warmth in the sea is less intense than that on land but is absorbed more deeply, making it more lasting, which then draws in the cooler, denser, and heavier air from the land. This flow continues until the earth, warmed again by the morning sun, regains its dominance. This is the general pattern, consistent with experience and apparently rooted in the laws of motion and the nature of things. The following observations will support my claims and provide additional insights for any future researchers.
The periodical winds which are supposed to blow during six months from the north-west and as many from the south-east rarely observe this regularity, except in the very heart of the monsoon; inclining, almost at all times, several points to seaward, and not unfrequently blowing from the south-west or in a line perpendicular to the coast. This must be attributed to the influence of that principle which causes the land and sea winds proving on these occasions more powerful than the principle of the periodical winds; which two seem here to act at right angles with each other; and as the influence of either is prevalent the winds draw towards a course perpendicular to or parallel with the line of the coast. Excepting when a squall or other sudden alteration of weather, to which these climates are particularly liable, produces an irregularity, the tendency of the land-wind at night has almost ever a correspondence with the sea-wind of the preceding or following day; not blowing in a direction immediately opposite to it (which would be the case if the former were, as some writers have supposed, merely the effect of the accumulation and redundance of the latter, without any positive cause) but forming an equal and contiguous angle, of which the coast is the common side. Thus, if the coast be conceived to run north and south, the same influence, or combination of influences, which produces a sea-wind at north-west produces a land-wind at north-east; or adapting the case to Sumatra, which lies north-west and south-east, a sea-wind at south is preceded or followed by a land-wind at east. This remark must not be taken in too strict a sense, but only as the result of general observation. If the land-wind, in the course of the night, should draw round from east to north it would be looked upon as an infallible prognostic of a west or north-west wind the next day. On this principle it is that the natives foretell the direction of the wind by the noise of the surf at night, which if heard from the northward is esteemed the forerunner of a northerly wind, and vice versa. The quarter from which the noise is heard depends upon the course of the land-wind, which brings the sound with it, and drowns it to leeward--the land-wind has a correspondence with the next day's sea-wind--and thus the divination is accounted for.
The seasonal winds that are expected to blow for six months from the northwest and six months from the southeast rarely follow this pattern, except during the peak of the monsoon. Instead, they often shift a few degrees toward the sea and frequently blow from the southwest or directly perpendicular to the coast. This is due to the stronger influence of land and sea breezes at these times, which seem to work at right angles to the periodic winds. Depending on which influence is dominant, the winds tend to take a path that is either perpendicular or parallel to the coastline. Unless a squall or sudden change in weather—something these climates are particularly prone to—creates an anomaly, the land wind at night usually aligns with the sea wind from the previous or following day. It doesn't blow directly opposite (which would happen if the land wind were just a result of the sea wind's buildup), but instead forms an equal angle with the coastline as its shared side. So, if the coast runs north and south, the same influences that create a northwest sea breeze will lead to a northeast land breeze; or, in the case of Sumatra, which runs northwest to southeast, a south sea breeze will be followed or preceded by an east land breeze. This observation shouldn’t be interpreted too literally but is meant to reflect general trends. If the land wind shifts from east to north during the night, it’s seen as a sure sign of a west or northwest wind the next day. Natives use this principle to predict wind direction based on the sound of the surf at night: if the noise comes from the north, it predicts a northerly wind, and vice versa. The direction of the sound depends on the land wind, which carries it with it and muffles it downwind—the land wind correlates with the sea wind expected the next day—thus explaining the method of divination.
The effect of the sea-wind is not perceived to the distance of more than three or four leagues from the shore in common, and for the most part it is fainter in proportion to the distance. When it first sets in it does not commence at the remoter extremity of its limits but very near the shore, and gradually extends itself farther to sea, as the day advances; probably taking the longer or shorter course as the day is more or less hot. I have frequently observed the sails of ships at the distance of four, six, or eight miles, quite becalmed, whilst a fresh sea-breeze was at the time blowing upon the shore. In an hour afterwards they have felt its effect.*
The impact of the sea breeze isn't felt more than three or four leagues from the shore in general, and it usually gets weaker the farther you go. When it first starts, it doesn't kick in at the farthest point but rather close to the shore, gradually spreading further out to sea as the day goes on; probably taking a longer or shorter path depending on how hot the day is. I've often noticed that the sails of ships, even at a distance of four, six, or eight miles, are completely still while a strong sea breeze is blowing on the shore. After about an hour, they've started to feel its effects.*
(*Footnote. This observation as well as many others I have made on the subject I find corroborated in the Treatise before quoted from the Haerlem Transactions which I had not seen when the present work was first published.)
(*Footnote. This observation, along with many others I've made on the subject, is supported in the Treatise I referenced from the Haerlem Transactions, which I hadn’t seen when I first published this work.)
Passing along the beach about six o'clock in the evening when the sea-breeze is making its final efforts, I have perceived it to blow with a considerable degree of warmth, owing to the heat the sea had by that time acquired, which would soon begin to divert the current of air towards it when it had first overcome the vis inertiae that preserves motion in a body after the impelling power has ceased to operate. I have likewise been sensible of a degree of warmth on passing, within two hours after sunset, to leeward of a lake of fresh water; which proves the assertion of water imbibing a more permanent heat than earth. In the daytime the breeze would be rendered cool in crossing the same lake.
Walking along the beach around six o'clock in the evening when the sea breeze is making its last push, I've noticed that it's blowing with quite a bit of warmth. This is because the sea has warmed up by then, and it starts to draw the air towards it after overcoming the inertia that keeps a body in motion even after the force has stopped. I've also felt warmth when passing downwind of a freshwater lake about two hours after sunset, which supports the idea that water retains heat longer than land. During the day, the breeze would feel cool when crossing the same lake.
Approaching an island situated at a distance from any other land, I was struck with the appearance of the clouds about nine in the morning which then formed a perfect circle round it, the middle being a clear azure, and resembled what the painters call a glory. This I account for from the reflected rays of the sun rarefying the atmosphere immediately over the island, and equally in all parts, which caused a conflux of the neighbouring air, and with in the circumjacent clouds. These last, tending uniformly to the centre, compressed each other at a certain distance from it, and, like the stones in an arch of masonry, prevented each other's nearer approach. That island, however, does not experience the vicissitude of land and sea breezes, being too small, and too lofty, and situated in a latitude where the trade or perpetual winds prevail in their utmost force. In sandy countries, the effect of the sun's rays penetrating deeply, a more permanent heat is produced, the consequence of which should be the longer continuance of the sea-breeze in the evening; and agreeably to this supposition I have been informed that on the coast of Coromandel it seldom dies away before ten at night. I shall only add on this subject that the land-wind on Sumatra is cold, chilly, and damp; an exposure to it is therefore dangerous to the health, and sleeping in it almost certain death.
As I approached an island far from any other land, I was amazed by the clouds around it around nine in the morning. They formed a perfect circle, with a clear blue sky in the middle, resembling what painters call a glory. I attribute this effect to the sun's rays heating the atmosphere directly over the island, which caused the surrounding air to converge with the nearby clouds. These clouds moved steadily toward the center, compressing each other at a certain distance, much like stones in an arch, preventing one another from getting too close. However, that island does not experience the changes of land and sea breezes because it is too small and high, and located where the trade winds blow with great strength. In sandy areas, the sun's rays penetrate deeply, resulting in a more lasting heat, which should lead to the sea breeze lasting longer in the evening. Supporting this idea, I’ve heard that on the coast of Coromandel, the sea breeze rarely dies down before ten at night. I should also mention that the land breeze on Sumatra is cold, chilly, and damp, making exposure to it dangerous for health, and sleeping in it is almost certainly fatal.
SOIL.
Ground.
The soil of the western side of Sumatra may be spoken of generally as a stiff, reddish clay, covered with a stratum or layer of black mould, of no considerable depth. From this there springs a strong and perpetual verdure of rank grass, brushwood, or timber-trees, according as the country has remained a longer or shorter time undisturbed by the consequences of population, which, being in most places extremely thin, it follows that a great proportion of the island, and especially to the southward, is an impervious forest.
The soil on the western side of Sumatra can generally be described as a tough, reddish clay, topped with a thin layer of black mold. From this, lush greenery springs up, featuring dense grass, underbrush, or taller trees, depending on how long the area has been left undisturbed by human activity. Since the population is quite sparse in most areas, a large portion of the island, especially in the south, remains an impenetrable forest.
UNEVENNESS OF SURFACE.
Surface unevenness.
Along the western coast of the island the low country, or space of land which extends from the seashore to the foot of the mountains, is intersected and rendered uneven to a surprising degree by swamps whose irregular and winding course may in some places be traced in a continual chain for many miles till they discharge themselves either into the sea, some neighbouring lake, or the fens that are so commonly found near the banks of the larger rivers and receive their overflowings in the rainy monsoons. The spots of land which these swamps encompass become so many islands and peninsulas, sometimes flat at top, and often mere ridges; having in some places a gentle declivity, and in others descending almost perpendicularly to the depth of a hundred feet. In few parts of the country of Bencoolen, or of the northern districts adjacent to it, could a tolerably level space of four hundred yards square be marked out. I have often, from an elevated situation, where a wider range was subjected to the eye, surveyed with admiration the uncommon face which nature assumes, and made inquiries and attended to conjectures on the causes of these inequalities. Some choose to attribute them to the successive concussions of earthquakes through a course of centuries. But they do not seem to be the effect of such a cause. There are no abrupt fissures; the hollows and swellings are for the most part smooth and regularly sloping so as to exhibit not unfrequently the appearance of an amphitheatre, and they are clothed with verdure from the summit to the edge of the swamp. From this latter circumstance it is also evident that they are not, as others suppose, occasioned by the falls of heavy rains that deluge the country for one half of the year; which is likewise to be inferred from many of them having no apparent outlet and commencing where no torrent could be conceived to operate. The most summary way of accounting for this extraordinary unevenness of surface were to conclude that, in the original construction of our globe, Sumatra was thus formed by the same hand which spread out the sandy plains of Arabia, and raised up the alps and Andes beyond the region of the clouds. But this is a mode of solution which, if generally adopted, would become an insuperable bar to all progress in natural knowledge by damping curiosity and restraining research. Nature, we know from sufficient experience, is not only turned from her original course by the industry of man, but also sometimes checks and crosses her own career. What has happened in some instances it is not unfair to suppose may happen in others; nor is it presumption to trace the intermediate causes of events which are themselves derived from one first, universal, and eternal principle.
Along the western coast of the island, the lowland, or the area of land that stretches from the shore to the foothills of the mountains, is surprisingly uneven due to swamps that flow in irregular, winding paths. In some places, these swamps trace a continuous line for miles until they empty into the sea, a nearby lake, or the wetlands often found near the larger rivers that flood during the rainy monsoons. The patches of land surrounded by these swamps become numerous islands and peninsulas, some with flat tops and others just narrow ridges; some gradually slope down, while others drop almost straight down to depths of a hundred feet. In few areas of Bencoolen or the nearby northern districts can you find a reasonably flat space of four hundred square yards. From elevated spots, where I could see a wider area, I have often admired the unique landscape that nature has created and asked questions and listened to theories about the reasons for these uneven terrains. Some people think they're due to the series of earthquakes over centuries. However, that doesn’t seem to be the cause. There are no sharp cracks; the dips and rises are mostly smooth and have gentle slopes, often resembling an amphitheater, all covered in greenery from the top down to the swamp's edge. This also shows that they are not caused, as some believe, by heavy rainstorms flooding the area for half the year; many of these places have no visible outlet and start where it seems no rushing water could influence them. The simplest explanation for this unusual surface could be to say that, during the earth's initial formation, Sumatra was crafted by the same force that formed the sandy plains of Arabia and raised the Alps and Andes into the clouds. But this kind of explanation, if widely accepted, would seriously hinder advancement in natural knowledge by stifling curiosity and limiting exploration. We know from experience that nature not only changes course due to human activity but sometimes also disrupts its own processes. What has happened in some cases can reasonably be assumed to happen in others, and it's not unreasonable to trace the causes of events back to one first, universal, and eternal principle.
CAUSES OF THIS INEQUALITY.
REASONS FOR THIS INEQUALITY.
To me it would seem that the springs of water with which these parts of the island abound in an uncommon degree operate directly, though obscurely, to the producing this irregularity of the surface of the earth. They derive their number and an extraordinary portion of activity from the loftiness of the ranges of mountains that occupy the interior country, and intercept and collect the floating vapours. Precipitated into rain at such a hight, the water acquires in its descent through the fissures or pores of these mountains a considerable force which exerts itself in every direction, lateral and perpendicular, to procure a vent. The existence of these copious springs is proved in the facility with which wells are everywhere sunk; requiring no choice of ground but as it may respect the convenience of the proprietor; all situations, whether high or low, being prodigal of this valuable element. Where the approaches of the sea have rendered the cliffs abrupt, innumerable rills, or rather a continued moisture, is seen to ooze through and trickle down the steep. Where on the contrary the sea has retired and thrown up banks of sand in its retreat I have remarked the streams of water, at a certain level and commonly between the boundaries of the tide, effecting their passage through the loose and feeble barrier opposed to them. In short, every part of the low country is pregnant with springs that labour for the birth; and these continual struggles, this violent activity of subterraneous waters, must gradually undermine the plains above. The earth is imperceptibly excavated, the surface settles in, and hence the inequalities we speak of. The operation is slow but unremitting, and, I conceive, fully capable of the effect.
It seems to me that the abundant water springs in this part of the island play a significant but somewhat mysterious role in creating the irregular surface of the land. They are numerous and particularly active because of the high mountain ranges in the interior that capture and gather moisture from the air. When this vapor condenses into rain at such heights, it gains substantial force as it flows down through the cracks and pores of the mountains, pushing outward in all directions to find an escape. The presence of these plentiful springs is evident in how easily wells can be drilled everywhere, needing little more than consideration for the landowner's convenience; all locations, whether elevated or low, readily yield this precious resource. Where the sea has made the cliffs steep, countless small streams, or rather a continuous seepage, can be seen trickling down the slopes. Conversely, where the sea has receded and left sandy banks, I’ve noticed that water at a certain level, typically within the tidal range, pushes its way through the loose, weak barrier in its path. In short, every part of the lowland is filled with springs that are striving to emerge; these constant efforts and the powerful movement of underground water must gradually erode the land above. The earth is slowly being hollowed out, the surface sinks in, and this leads to the unevenness we observe. The process is gradual but relentless, and I believe it can definitely produce such effects.
MINERAL PRODUCTIONS.
Mineral Production.
The earth of Sumatra is rich in minerals and other fossil productions.
The soil of Sumatra is rich in minerals and other natural resources.
GOLD.
Gold.
No country has been more famous in all ages for gold, and, though the sources from whence it is drawn may be supposed in some measure exhausted by the avarice and industry of ages, yet at this day the quantity procured is very considerable, and doubtless might be much increased were the simple labour of the gatherer assisted by a knowledge of the arts of mineralogy.
No country has been more famous throughout history for its gold, and although one might think that the sources have been somewhat depleted by greed and hard work over the years, today the amount obtained is still quite significant, and it could definitely be increased even more if the efforts of miners were supported by a better understanding of mineralogy.
COPPER, IRON, TIN, SULPHUR.
COPPER, IRON, TIN, SULFUR.
There are also mines of copper, iron, and tin. Sulphur is gathered in large quantities about the numerous volcanoes.
There are also mines of copper, iron, and tin. Sulfur is collected in large amounts around the many volcanoes.
SALTPETRE.
SALTpeter.
Saltpetre the natives procure by a process of their own from the earth which is found impregnated with it; chiefly in extensive caves that have been, from the beginning of time, the haunt of a certain species of birds, of whose dung the soil is formed.
Saltpetre is obtained by the locals through their own method from the earth that contains it, mainly in large caves that have, since ancient times, been the home of a specific type of bird, whose droppings have enriched the soil.
COAL.
Coal.
Coal, mostly washed down by the floods, is collected in several parts, particularly at Kataun, Ayer-rammi, and Bencoolen. It is light and not esteemed very good; but I am informed that this is the case with all coal found near the surface of the earth, and, as the veins are observed to run in an inclined direction until the pits have some depth, the fossil must be of an indifferent quality. The little island of Pisang, near the foot of Mount Pugong, was supposed to be chiefly a bed of rock crystal, but upon examination of specimens taken from thence they proved to be calcareous spar.
Coal, mostly washed down by floods, is gathered in several locations, especially at Kataun, Ayer-rammi, and Bencoolen. It's light and not considered very good; however, I’ve been told that this is common for all coal found near the earth's surface. As the veins are seen to run at an angle until the pits reach some depth, the coal is likely to be of poor quality. The small island of Pisang, near the base of Mount Pugong, was thought to be mostly made of rock crystal, but upon examining samples taken from there, they turned out to be calcareous spar.
HOT SPRINGS.
Hot springs.
Mineral and hot springs have been discovered in many districts. In taste the waters mostly resemble those of Harrowgate, being nauseous to the palate.
Mineral and hot springs have been found in many areas. In terms of taste, the waters mostly resemble those of Harrogate, being unpleasant to the palate.
EARTH OIL.
Earth Oil.
The oleum terrae, or earth oil, used chiefly as a preservative against the destructive ravages of the white-ants, is collected at Ipu and elsewhere.*
The oleum terrae, or earth oil, mainly used as a preservative against the damaging effects of termites, is collected at Ipu and other locations.*
(*Footnote. The fountain of Naphtha or liquid balsam found at Pedir, so much celebrated by the Portuguese writers, is doubtless this oleum terrae, or meniak tanah, as it is called by the Malays.)
(*Footnote. The fountain of Naphtha or liquid balsam located at Pedir, highly praised by Portuguese writers, is undoubtedly this oleum terrae, or meniak tanah, as referred to by the Malays.)
SOFT ROCK.
Soft rock.
There is scarcely any species of hard rock to be met with in the low parts of the island near the seashore. Besides the ledges of coral, which are covered by the tide, that which generally prevails is the napal, as it is called by the inhabitants, forming the basis of the red cliffs, and not infrequently the beds of the rivers. Though this napal has the appearance of rock it possesses in fact so little solidity that it is difficult to pronounce whether it be a soft stone or only an indurated clay. The surface of it becomes smooth and glossy by a slight attrition, and to the touch resembles soap, which is its most striking characteristic; but it is not soluble in water and makes no effervescence with acids. Its colour is either grey, brown, or red, according to the nature of the earth that prevails in its composition. The red napal has by much the smallest proportion of sand, and seems to possess all the qualities of the steatite or soap-earth found in Cornwall and other countries. The specimens of stone which I brought from the hills in the neighbourhood of Bencoolen were pronounced by some mineralogists, to whom I showed them at the time, to be granite; but upon more particular examination they appear to be a species of trap, consisting principally of feldspar and hornblende, of a greyish colour and nearly similar to the mountain stone of North Wales.
There’s hardly any type of hard rock found in the low areas of the island near the coast. Apart from the coral ledges that are covered by the tide, what mainly dominates is a material called napal by the locals, which forms the base of the red cliffs and often appears in the riverbeds. Although this napal looks like rock, it’s actually so soft that it’s hard to say whether it’s a soft stone or just hardened clay. Its surface becomes smooth and shiny with just a little wear, and it feels like soap to the touch, which is its most notable feature. However, it doesn’t dissolve in water and doesn’t fizz with acids. Its color can be gray, brown, or red, depending on the type of earth in it. The red napal contains much less sand and seems to have all the qualities of steatite or soapstone found in Cornwall and other places. The samples of stone I collected from the hills near Bencoolen were initially described by some mineralogists I showed them to as granite, but upon closer inspection, they appear to be a kind of trap rock, mainly made up of feldspar and hornblende, with a grayish color similar to the mountain stone in North Wales.
PETRIFACTION.
Petrification.
Where the encroachments of the sea have undermined the land the cliffs are left abrupt and naked, in some places to a very considerable height. In these many curious fossils are discovered, such as petrified wood, and seashells of various sorts. Hypotheses on this subject have been so ably supported and so powerfully attacked that I shall not presume to intrude myself in the lists. I shall only observe that, being so near the sea, many would hesitate to allow such discoveries to be of any weight in proving a violent alteration to have taken place in the surface of the terraqueous globe; whilst, on the other hand, it is unaccountable how, in the common course of natural events, such extraneous matter should come to be lodged in strata at the height perhaps of fifty feet above the level of the water, and as many below the surface of the land.
Where the sea has eroded the land, the cliffs stand steep and bare, in some areas at quite a height. In these places, many fascinating fossils are found, including petrified wood and various seashells. The theories on this topic have been thoroughly debated, so I won't add my opinion to the discussion. I will simply point out that, given the proximity to the sea, many might doubt the significance of these findings in demonstrating that a dramatic change has occurred on the surface of the Earth; on the other hand, it’s difficult to explain how such foreign materials could end up in layers that are perhaps fifty feet above the water level and as many below the ground surface.
COLOURED EARTHS.
Colored Earths.
Here are likewise found various species of earths which might be applied to valuable purposes, as painters' colours, and otherwise. The most common are the yellow and red, probably ochres, and the white, which answers the description of the milenum of the ancients.
Here, you'll also find different types of clays that could be used for valuable purposes, like paints and other applications. The most common ones are yellow and red, likely ochres, and the white clay, which matches what the ancients described as milenum.
VOLCANOES.
Volcanoes.
There are a number of volcano mountains in this, as in almost all the other islands of the eastern Archipelago. They are called in the Malay language gunong-api, or more correctly, gunong ber-api. Lava has been seen to flow from a considerable one near Priamang; but I have never heard of its causing any other damage than the burning of woods. This however may be owing to the thinness of population, which does not render it necessary for the inhabitants to settle in a situation that exposes them to danger of this kind. The only volcano I had an opportunity of observing opened in the side of a mountain, about twenty miles inland of Bencoolen, one-fourth way from its top, as nearly as I can judge. It scarcely ever failed to emit smoke; but the column was only visible for two or three hours in the morning, seldom rising and preserving its form, above the upper edge of the hill, which is not of a conical shape but extending with a gradual slope.
There are several volcanic mountains here, just like on nearly all the other islands in the eastern Archipelago. They are known in Malay as gunong-api, or more accurately, gunong ber-api. Lava has been seen flowing from a significant one near Priamang, but I’ve never heard of it causing any damage except burning some woods. This could be due to the sparse population, which means people don’t need to live in areas that put them at risk. The only volcano I got to observe opened on the side of a mountain about twenty miles inland from Bencoolen, roughly a quarter of the way up, as far as I can tell. It almost always emitted smoke, but the column was only visible for two or three hours in the morning, rarely rising high or maintaining its shape above the edge of the hill, which isn’t conical but slopes gently.
EARTHQUAKES.
Earthquakes.
The high trees with which the country thereabout is covered, prevent the crater from being discernible at a distance; and this proves that the spot is not considerably raised or otherwise affected by the earthquakes which are very frequently felt there. Sometimes it has emitted smoke upon these occasions, and in other instances not. Yet during a smart earthquake which happened a few years before my arrival it was remarked to send forth flame, which it is rarely known to do.* The apprehension of the European inhabitants however is rather more excited when it continues any length of time without a tendency to an eruption, as they conceive it to be the vent by which the inflammable matter escapes that would otherwise produce these commotions of the earth. Comparatively with the descriptions I have read of earthquakes in South America, Calabria, and other countries, those which happen in Sumatra are generally very slight; and the usual manner of building renders them but little formidable to the natives.
The tall trees that cover the area make it hard to see the crater from afar, showing that the ground isn't significantly elevated or heavily impacted by the frequent earthquakes. Sometimes it has released smoke during these events, and sometimes it hasn’t. However, during a strong earthquake that occurred a few years before I arrived, it was noted to have burst into flames, which is something it rarely does. The European residents are more uneasy when it goes for a long time without showing signs of an eruption because they believe it's the escape route for the flammable materials that would otherwise cause these earth tremors. Compared to the earthquake descriptions I've read about in South America, Calabria, and other places, the earthquakes in Sumatra are generally quite mild; plus, the way buildings are constructed makes them less threatening to the locals.
(*Footnote. Some gentlemen who deny the fact of its having at any time emitted flame, conjecture that what exhibits the appearance of smoke is more probably vapour arising from a considerable hot spring. The natives speak of it as a volcano.)
(*Footnote. Some men who argue that it has never emitted flame speculate that what looks like smoke is likely vapor coming from a large hot spring. The locals refer to it as a volcano.)
REMARKABLE EFFECTS OF AN EARTHQUAKE.
IMPRESSIVE IMPACTS OF AN EARTHQUAKE.
The most severe that I have known was chiefly experienced in the district of Manna in the year 1770. A village was destroyed by the houses falling down and taking fire, and several lives were lost.* The ground was in one place rent a quarter of a mile, the width of two fathoms, and depth of four or five. A bituminous matter is described to have swelled over the sides of the cavity, and the earth for a long time after the shocks was observed to contract and dilate alternately. Many parts of the hills far inland could be distinguished to have given way, and a consequence of this was that during three weeks Manna River was so much impregnated with particles of clay that the natives could not bathe in it. At this time was formed near to the mouth of Padang Guchi, a neighbouring river south of the former, a large plain, seven miles long and half a mile broad; where there had been before only a narrow beach. The quantity of earth brought down on this occasion was so considerable that the hill upon which the English resident's house stands appears, from indubitable marks, less elevated by fifteen feet than it was before the event.
The worst I've ever experienced happened mainly in the Manna area in 1770. A village was destroyed when houses collapsed and caught fire, resulting in several casualties.* In one area, the ground opened up for a quarter of a mile, stretching two fathoms wide and four or five deep. A bituminous substance overflowed the cavity, and for a long time after the shocks, the earth was observed to alternately contract and expand. Many inland hills visibly shifted, and as a result, for three weeks, the Manna River became so contaminated with clay particles that the locals couldn’t even bathe in it. At this time, a large plain was formed near the mouth of Padang Guchi, a neighboring river to the south, measuring seven miles long and half a mile wide, where there used to be just a narrow beach. The amount of earth displaced during this event was so significant that the hill where the English resident's house is located appears to be fifteen feet lower now than it was before.
(*Footnote. I am informed that in 1763 an entire village was swallowed up by an earthquake in Pulo Nias, one of the islands which lie off the western coast of Sumatra. In July or August of the same year a severe one was felt in Bengal.)
(*Footnote. I've been told that in 1763, an entire village was destroyed by an earthquake in Pulo Nias, one of the islands off the west coast of Sumatra. A serious earthquake was also felt in Bengal in July or August of that same year.)
Earthquakes have been remarked by some to happen usually upon sudden changes of weather, and particularly after violent heats; but I do not vouch this upon my own experience, which has been pretty ample. They are preceded by a low rumbling noise like distant thunder. The domestic cattle and fowls are sensible of the preternatural motion, and seem much alarmed; the latter making the cry they are wont to do on the approach of birds of prey. Houses situated on a low sandy soil are least affected, and those which stand on distinct hills suffer most from the shocks because the further removed from the centre of motion the greater the agitation; and the loose contexture of the one foundation, making less resistance than the solidity of the other, subjects the building to less violence. Ships at anchor in the road, though several miles distant from the shore, are strongly sensible of the concussion.
Some people have noted that earthquakes often occur after sudden weather changes, especially after extreme heat; however, I can't confirm this based on my own extensive experience. They are usually preceded by a low rumbling sound, similar to distant thunder. Domestic animals and birds can sense the unusual motion and appear quite frightened; birds make the same noise they do when predators are near. Houses built on low sandy soil are the least affected, while those on distinct hills suffer the most from the shocks because the further away you are from the center of motion, the more intense the shaking. The loose structure of one type of foundation offers less resistance than the solidity of another, which exposes the building to less force. Ships anchored in the bay, even when several miles from shore, can also feel the impact strongly.
NEW LAND FORMED.
New land created.
Besides the new land formed by the convulsions above described, the sea by a gradual recess in some parts produces the same effect. Many instances of this kind, of no considerable extent however have been observed within the memory of persons now living. But it would seem to me that that large tract of land called Pulo Point, forming the bay of the name, near to Silebar, with much of the adjacent country has thus been left by the withdrawing or thrown up by the motion of the sea. Perhaps the point may have been at first an island (from whence its appellation of Pulo) and the parts more inland gradually united to it.* Various circumstances tend to corroborate such an opinion, and to evince the probability that this was not an original portion of the main but new, half-formed land. All the swamps and marshy grounds that lie within the beach, and near the extremity there are little else, are known, in consequence of repeated surveys, to be lower than the level of high-water; the bank of sand alone preventing an inundation. The country is not only quite free from hills or inequalities of any kind, but has scarcely a visible slope. Silebar River, which empties itself into Pulo Bay, is totally unlike those in other parts of the island. The motion of its stream is hardly perceptible; it is never affected by floods; its course is marked out, not by banks covered with ancient and venerable woods but by rows of mangroves and other aquatics springing from the ooze, and perfectly regular. Some miles from the mouth it opens into a beautiful and extensive lake, diversified with small islands, flat, and verdant with rushes only. The point of Pulo is covered with the arau tree (casuarina) or bastard-pine, as some have called it, which never grows but in the seasand and rises fast.
Besides the new land created by the disturbances previously mentioned, the sea slowly recedes in some areas, resulting in similar outcomes. There have been many instances like this, though none have been significant in size within the lifetime of those currently living. However, it seems to me that the large area of land known as Pulo Point, which creates the bay of the same name near Silebar, has likely been shaped by the retreating sea or pushed up by its motion. This point may have originally been an island (hence its name, Pulo), with the inland areas gradually connecting to it. Various factors support this idea and suggest that this was not originally part of the mainland but rather new, partially formed land. All the swamps and marshy areas located along the beach near the end are known, due to repeated surveys, to be lower than the high-water level, with only the sandbank preventing flooding. The land is not only completely devoid of hills or any kind of unevenness but nearly level. The Silebar River, which flows into Pulo Bay, is completely different from rivers in other parts of the island. Its flow is barely noticeable; it’s never impacted by floods; its banks aren’t lined with ancient woods but rather with rows of mangroves and other aquatic plants that emerge from the mud in a perfectly straight manner. A few miles from its mouth, it expands into a beautiful and large lake, featuring small, flat islands covered with green rushes. Pulo Point is covered with the arau tree (casuarina), sometimes referred to as bastard-pine, which only grows in sandy soil and grows rapidly.
(*Footnote. Since I formed this conjecture I have been told that such a tradition of no very ancient date prevails amongst the inhabitants.)
(*Footnote. Since I came up with this idea, I've been informed that a tradition of not very ancient origin exists among the locals.)
ENCROACHMENT OF THE SEA.
Rising sea levels.
None such are found toward Sungei-Lamo and the rest of the shore northward of Marlborough Point, where, on the contrary, you perceive the effects of continual depredations by the ocean. The old forest trees are there yearly undermined and, falling, obstruct the traveller; whilst about Pulo the arau-trees are continually springing up faster than they can be cut down or otherwise destroyed. Nature will not readily be forced from her course. The last time I visited that part there was a beautiful rising grove of these trees, establishing a possession in their proper soil. The country, as well immediately here about as to a considerable distance inland, is an entire bed of sand without any mixture of clay or mould, which I know to have been in vain sought for many miles up the neighbouring rivers. To the northward of Padang there is a plain which has evidently been, in former times, a bay. Traces of a shelving beach are there distinguishable at the distance of one hundred and fifty yards from the present boundary of the sea.
None such are found toward Sungei-Lamo and the rest of the shore north of Marlborough Point, where, instead, you can see the effects of constant erosion by the ocean. The old trees are undermined each year, and when they fall, they block the way for travelers. Meanwhile, around Pulo, the arau-trees keep sprouting up faster than they can be cut down or destroyed. Nature won’t easily change its course. The last time I visited that area, there was a beautiful grove of these trees, taking root in their natural soil. The land here and quite a distance inland is all sand with no clay or rich soil, which I know has been unsuccessfully searched for many miles up the nearby rivers. North of Padang, there’s a plain that clearly used to be a bay. You can still see signs of a sloping beach about one hundred and fifty yards from the current shoreline.
But upon what hypothesis can it be accounted for that the sea should commit depredations on the northern coast, of which there are the most evident tokens as high up at least as Ipu, and probably to Indrapura, where the shelter of the neighbouring islands may put a stop to them, and that it should restore the land to the southward in the manner I have described? I am aware that according to the general motion of the tides from east to west this coast ought to receive a continual accession proportioned to the loss which others, exposed to the direction of this motion, must and do sustain; and it is likely that it does gain upon the whole. But the nature of my work obliges me to be more attentive to effects than causes, and to record facts though they should clash with systems the most just in theory, and most respectable in point of authority.
But on what basis can we explain that the sea causes damage to the northern coast, with clear signs reaching at least as far as Ipu, and probably to Indrapura, where the nearby islands might prevent further damage, while also restoring land to the south as I’ve described? I realize that according to the general tide movement from east to west, this coast should gain continuously based on the losses that other exposed areas must experience; and it’s likely that it does gain overall. However, my work requires me to focus more on the effects than the causes, and to document facts even if they contradict theories that are considered sound and reputable.
ISLANDS NEAR THE WEST COAST.
Islands off the West Coast.
The chain of islands which lie parallel with the west coast of Sumatra may probably have once formed a part of the main and been separated from it, either by some violent effort of nature, or the gradual attrition of the sea. I should scarcely introduce the mention of this apparently vague surmise but that a circumstance presents itself on the coast which affords some stronger colour of proof than can be usually obtained in such instances. In many places, and particularly about Pally, we observe detached pieces of land standing singly, as islands, at the distance of one or two hundred yards from the shore, which were headlands of points running out into the sea within the remembrance of the inhabitants. The tops continue covered with trees or shrubs; but the sides are bare, abrupt, and perpendicular. The progress of insulation here is obvious and incontrovertible, and why may not larger islands, at a greater distance, have been formed in the revolution of ages by the same accidents? The probability is heightened by the direction of the islands Nias, Batu, Mantawei, Pagi, Mego, etc., the similarity of the rock, soil, and productions, and the regularity of soundings between them and the main, whilst without them the depth is unfathomable.
The chain of islands that runs parallel to the west coast of Sumatra might have once been part of the mainland before being separated from it, either by some natural disaster or the slow erosion by the sea. I wouldn't bring up this seemingly uncertain idea if it weren't for a situation along the coast that provides stronger evidence than is typically available in these cases. In many areas, especially around Pally, we see isolated pieces of land standing alone as islands just one or two hundred yards from the shore, which used to be headlands or points extending into the sea, as remembered by the locals. The tops are still covered with trees or shrubs, but the sides are bare, steep, and vertical. The process of isolation here is clear and undeniable, so why couldn't larger islands, further away, have formed over ages through similar processes? The likelihood increases with the layout of the islands Nias, Batu, Mantawei, Pagi, Mego, and others, the similarity in rock, soil, and vegetation, and the consistent depth of the waters between them and the mainland, while beyond them the depth is unmeasurable.
CORAL ROCKS.
Coral reefs.
Where the shore is flat or shelving the coast of Sumatra, as of all other tropical islands, is defended from the attacks of the sea by a reef or ledge of coral rock on which the surfs exert their violence without further effect than that of keeping its surface even, and reducing to powder those beautiful excrescences and ramifications which have been so much the object of the naturalist's curiosity, and which some ingenious men who have analysed them contend to be the work of insects. The coral powder is in particular places accumulated on the shore in great quantities, and appears, when not closely inspected, like a fine white sand.
Where the shore is flat or sloped along the coast of Sumatra, like many other tropical islands, it's protected from the ocean's attacks by a reef or ledge of coral rock. The waves hit this reef with force but only manage to keep its surface smooth and grind down those beautiful growths and branches that have fascinated naturalists. Some clever individuals who have studied them argue they are created by insects. In certain locations, the coral powder gathers in large amounts on the shore and, when not closely examined, looks like fine white sand.
SURF.
Surf.
The surf (a word not to be found, I believe, in our dictionaries) is used in India, and by navigators in general, to express a peculiar swell and breaking of the sea upon the shore; the phenomena of which not having been hitherto much adverted to by writers I shall be the more circumstantial in my description of them.
The term "surf" (which I don't think is in our dictionaries) is used in India and by sailors in general to describe a specific swell and breaking of the sea on the shore. Since writers haven't paid much attention to this phenomenon before, I will be more detailed in my description of it.
The surf forms sometimes but a single range along the shore. At other times there is a succession of two, three, four, or more, behind each other, extending perhaps half a mile out to sea. The number of ranges is generally in proportion to the height and violence of the surf.
The waves sometimes create just one line along the shore. Other times, there are two, three, four, or more sets of waves, one after the other, reaching maybe half a mile out to sea. The number of sets usually corresponds to the height and intensity of the waves.
The surf begins to assume its form at some distance from the place where it breaks, gradually accumulating as it moves forward till it gains a height, in common, of fifteen to twenty feet,* when it overhangs at top and falls like a cascade, nearly perpendicular, involving itself as it descends. The noise made by the fall is prodigious, and during the stillness of the night may be heard many miles up the country.
The waves start to take shape far from where they break, gradually building up as they move forward until they reach about fifteen to twenty feet high, when they crest and crash down like a waterfall, nearly vertical, curling over as they drop. The sound of the fall is huge, and during the quiet of the night, it can be heard many miles inland.
(*Footnote. It may be presumed that in this estimation of its height I was considerably deceived.)
(*Footnote. It's likely that I was quite mistaken in this assessment of its height.)
Though in the rising and formation of the surf the water seems to have a quick progressive motion towards the land, yet a light body on the surface is not carried forward, but, on the contrary, if the tide is ebbing, will recede from the shore; from which it would follow that the motion is only propagated in the water, like sound in air, and not the mass of water protruded. A similar species of motion is observed on shaking at one end a long cord held moderately slack, which is expressed by the word undulation. I have sometimes remarked however that a body which sinks deep and takes hold of the water appears to move towards shore with the course of the surf, as is perceptible in a boat landing which seems to shoot swiftly forward on the top of the swell; though probably it is only after having reached the summit, and may owe its velocity to its own weight in the descent.
Even though the surf is rising and forming, making the water look like it's rushing quickly towards the shore, a light object on the surface doesn't get pushed forward; instead, if the tide is going out, it will actually move away from the shore. This suggests that the motion is only happening within the water, similar to how sound travels in the air, and not in the actual mass of water itself. A similar type of motion can be seen when you shake one end of a long, loosely held cord, which we call undulation. However, I’ve noticed that a heavy object that sinks deeply and grips the water seems to move toward the shore with the flow of the surf, like a boat coming in that appears to glide swiftly forward on top of the waves; though, likely, it’s just reaching the peak and its speed is due to its own weight as it descends.
Countries where the surfs prevail require boats of a peculiar construction, and the art of managing them demands the experience of a man's life. All European boats are more or less unfit, and seldom fail to occasion the sacrifice of the people on board them, in the imprudent attempts that are sometimes made to land with them on the open coast. The natives of Coromandel are remarkably expert in the management of their craft; but it is to be observed that the intervals between the breaking of the surfs are usually on that coast much longer than on the coast of Sumatra.
Countries where the waves are strong require boats with a unique design, and handling them takes a lifetime of experience. All European boats are generally unsuitable and often result in the loss of lives on board due to reckless attempts to land on the open coast. The locals of Coromandel are exceptionally skilled at navigating their boats; however, it's worth noting that the gaps between the breaking waves on that coast are usually much longer than those on the coast of Sumatra.
The force of the surf is extremely great. I have known it to overset a country vessel in such a manner that the top of the mast has stuck in the sand, and the lower end made its appearance through her bottom. Pieces of cloth have been taken up from a wreck, twisted and rent by its involved motion. In some places the surfs are usually greater at high, and in others at low, water; but I believe they are uniformly more violent during the spring-tides.
The power of the waves is really intense. I've seen it flip a small boat to the point where the top of the mast got stuck in the sand, and the bottom came through the hull. Strips of fabric have been recovered from a wreck, tangled and torn by the chaotic movement. In some areas, the waves are usually stronger at high tide, and in others at low tide; but I think they are consistently more forceful during the spring tides.
CONSIDERATIONS RESPECTING THE CAUSE OF THE SURF.
CONSIDERATIONS REGARDING THE CAUSE OF THE SURF.
I shall proceed to inquire into the efficient cause of the surfs. The winds have doubtless a strong relation to them. If the air was in all places of equal density, and not liable to any motion, I suppose the water would also remain perfectly at rest and its surface even; abstracting from the general course of the tides and the partial irregularities occasioned by the influx of rivers. The current of the air impels the water and causes a swell, which is the regular rising and subsiding of the waves. This rise and fall is similar to the vibrations of a pendulum and subject to like laws. When a wave is at its height it descends by the force of gravity, and the momentum acquired in descending impels the neighbouring particles, which in their turn rise and impel others, and thus form a succession of waves. This is the case in the open sea; but when the swell approaches the shore and the depth of water is not in proportion to the size of the swell the subsiding wave, instead of pressing on a body of water, which might rise in equal quantity, presses on the ground, whose reaction causes it to rush on in that manner which we call a surf. Some think that the peculiar form of it may be plainly accounted for from the shallowness and shelving of the beach. When a swell draws near to such a beach the lower parts of the water, meeting first with obstruction from the bottom, stand still, whilst the higher parts respectively move onward, by which a rolling and involved motion is produced that is augmented by the return of the preceding swell. I object that this solution is founded on the supposition of an actual progressive motion of the body of water in forming a surf; and, that certainly not being the fact, it seems deficient. The only real progression of the water is occasioned by the perpendicular fall, after the breaking of the surf, when from its weight it foams on to a greater or less distance in proportion to the height from which it fell and the slope of the shore.
I will look into what causes the surf. The winds definitely have a strong connection to it. If the air were of equal density everywhere and not subject to any movement, I suspect the water would also stay completely still and its surface would be flat, ignoring the general flow of the tides and the local irregularities caused by river inflows. The flow of air pushes the water and creates a swell, which is the regular rise and fall of the waves. This rise and fall is similar to the movement of a pendulum and follows similar principles. When a wave reaches its peak, it falls due to gravity, and the energy gained as it falls pushes nearby water particles, which then rise and push others, creating a series of waves. This occurs in the open sea; however, when the swell reaches the shore and the water is too shallow to match the size of the swell, the falling wave, instead of pushing on a mass of water that could rise in response, presses down on the ground. The reaction from the ground causes the water to rush in a way we call surf. Some believe the unique shape of the surf can be explained by the shallow slope of the beach. When a swell approaches such a beach, the lower parts of the water encounter the bottom first and stop, while the higher parts continue moving forward, producing a rolling and complicated motion that is amplified by the returning swell. I argue that this explanation is based on the assumption that there is actual forward movement of the body of water in creating surf, which is not true, making it inadequate. The only real movement of the water occurs when it falls vertically after breaking, with its weight driving it forward a certain distance based on how high it fell and the slope of the shore.
That the surfs are not, like common waves, the immediate effect of the wind, is evident from this, that the highest and most violent often happen when there is the least wind and vice versa. And sometimes the surfs will continue with an equal degree of violence during a variety of weather. On the west coast of Sumatra the highest are experienced during the south-east monsoon, which is never attended with such gales of wind as the north-west. The motion of the surf is not observed to follow the course of the wind, but often the contrary; and when it blows hard from the land the spray of the sea may be seen to fly in a direction opposite to the body of it, though the wind has been for many hours in the same point.
The fact that surf waves are not like regular waves that are directly caused by the wind is clear because the largest and roughest waves often occur when there's the least wind, and the opposite can also be true. Sometimes, the surf can maintain a consistent level of intensity despite changes in the weather. On the west coast of Sumatra, the strongest surf happens during the southeast monsoon, which does not bring the same strong winds that the northwest monsoon does. The movement of the surf doesn’t align with the wind direction; in fact, it can be the opposite. When the wind blows hard from the land, you can see the sea spray flying in the opposite direction of the waves, even though the wind has been blowing from the same spot for many hours.
Are the surfs the effect of gales of wind at sea, which do not happen to extend to the shore but cause a violent agitation throughout a considerable tract of the waters, which motion, communicating with less distant parts, and meeting at length with resistance from the shore, occasions the sea to swell and break in the manner described? To this I object that there seems no regular correspondence between their magnitude and the apparent agitation of the water without them: that gales of wind, except at particular periods, are very unfrequent in the Indian seas, where the navigation is well known to be remarkably safe, whilst the surfs are almost continual; and that gales are not found to produce this effect in other extensive oceans. The west coast of Ireland borders a sea nearly as extensive and much more wild than the coast of Sumatra, and yet there, though when it blows hard the swell on the shore is high and dangerous, is there nothing that resembles the surfs of India.
Are the waves caused by strong winds at sea that don’t reach the shore but create a violent disturbance over a large area of water, which then affects closer parts and, when hitting the shore, causes the sea to rise and break as described? I would argue against this because there doesn’t seem to be a consistent link between their size and the visible disturbance of the water around them: that strong winds are quite rare in the Indian seas, where navigation is known to be especially safe, even though the waves are almost constant; and that winds don’t seem to create this effect in other large oceans. The west coast of Ireland borders a sea that is nearly as vast and much wilder than the coast of Sumatra, yet there, although the waves are high and dangerous when it’s very windy, there’s nothing that resembles the waves of India.
PROBABLE CAUSE OF THE SURF.
LIKELY REASON FOR THE SURF.
These, so general in the tropical latitudes, are, upon the most probable hypothesis I have been able to form, after long observation and much thought and inquiry, the consequence of the trade or perpetual winds which prevail at a distance from shore between the parallels of thirty degrees north and south, whose uniform and invariable action causes a long and constant swell, that exists even in the calmest weather, about the line, towards which its direction tends from either side. This swell or libration of the sea is so prodigiously long, and the sensible effect of its height, of course, so much diminished, that it is not often attended to; the gradual slope engrossing almost the whole horizon when the eye is not very much elevated above its surface: but persons who have sailed in those parts may recollect that, even when the sea is apparently the most still and level, a boat or other object at a distance from the ship will be hidden from the sight of one looking towards it from the lower deck for the space of minutes together. This swell, when a squall happens or the wind freshens up, will for a time have other subsidiary waves on the extent of its surface, breaking often in a direction contrary to it, and which will again subside as a calm returns without having produced on it any perceptible effect. Sumatra, though not continually exposed to the south-east trade-wind, is not so distant but that its influence may be presumed to extend to it, and accordingly at Pulo Pisang, near the southern extremity of the island, a constant southerly sea is observed even after a hard north-west wind. This incessant and powerful swell rolling in from an ocean, open even to the pole, seems an agent adequate to the prodigious effects produced on the coast; whilst its very size contributes to its being overlooked. It reconciles almost all the difficulties which the phenomena seem to present, and in particular it accounts for the decrease of the surf during the north-west monsoon, the local wind then counteracting the operation of the general one; and it is corroborated by an observation I have made that the surfs on the Sumatran coast ever begin to break at their southern extreme, the motion of the swell not being perpendicular to the direction of the shore. This manner of explaining their origin seems to carry much reason with it; but there occurs to me one objection which I cannot get over, and which a regard to truth obliges me to state. The trade-winds are remarkably steady and uniform, and the swell generated by them is the same. The surfs are much the reverse, seldom persevering for two days in the same degree of violence; often mountains high in the morning and nearly subsided by night. How comes a uniform cause to produce effects so unsteady, unless by the intervention of secondary causes, whose nature and operation we are unacquainted with?
These, common in tropical regions, are, based on the best hypothesis I've been able to develop after extensive observation and contemplation, the result of the trade winds that consistently blow away from the shore between the parallels of thirty degrees north and south. Their steady and unchanging action creates a long and consistent swell that persists even in the calmest weather, moving toward the centerline from either side. This swell or movement of the sea is incredibly long, and the noticeable effect of its height is so diminished that it often goes unnoticed; the gradual slope taking up nearly the entire horizon when your viewpoint isn’t very high above the water's surface. However, those who have sailed in these areas may recall that, even when the sea appears completely still and flat, a boat or other object far from the ship will stay out of sight for several minutes if you’re looking at it from a lower deck. This swell, when a squall hits or the wind picks up, will temporarily develop other smaller waves across its surface, often breaking in the opposite direction, and these will settle back down as calm returns without leaving any noticeable impact on it. Sumatra, while not constantly exposed to the southeast trade winds, isn’t so far away that we can't assume their influence reaches it. Consequently, a steady southerly sea is observed at Pulo Pisang, near the southern tip of the island, even after a strong northwest wind. This relentless and powerful swell rolling in from an ocean open even to the pole seems capable of causing the significant effects seen along the coast; and its sheer scale often leads to it being overlooked. It resolves many of the issues presented by the phenomena and, in particular, explains the reduction of the surf during the northwest monsoon, as the local wind then opposes the widespread one. This is supported by my observation that the surfs on the Sumatran coast always begin breaking at their southern edge, with the swell not moving directly perpendicular to the shoreline. This way of explaining their origin seems quite reasonable; however, I have one objection that I can’t dismiss, which I feel compelled to mention for the sake of honesty. The trade winds are notably steady and uniform, and the swell they create is likewise consistent. In contrast, the surfs are unpredictable, rarely maintaining the same level of intensity for even two days; they can be towering in the morning and nearly calmed by night. How can a consistent cause lead to such erratic effects unless secondary causes, whose nature and operation we don’t fully understand, are intervening?
It is clear to me that the surfs as above described are peculiar to those climates which lie within the remoter limits of the trade-winds, though in higher latitudes large swells and irregular breakings of the sea are to be met with after boisterous weather. Possibly the following causes may be judged to conspire, with that I have already specified, towards occasioning this distinction. The former region being exposed to the immediate influence of the two great luminaries, the water, from their direct impulse, is liable to more violent agitation than nearer the poles where their power is felt only by indirect communication. The equatorial parts of the earth performing their diurnal revolution with greater velocity than the rest, a larger circle being described in the same time, the waters thereabout, from the stronger centrifugal force, may be supposed to feel less restraint from the sluggish principle of matter; to have less gravity; and therefore to be more obedient to external impulses of every kind, whether from the winds or any other cause.
It’s clear to me that the waves described above are specific to climates located within the outer limits of the trade winds, although in higher latitudes, you can encounter large swells and irregular sea breakings after rough weather. The following factors may be seen as contributing, along with what I’ve already mentioned, to this distinction. The former region is exposed to the direct influence of the two main celestial bodies, causing the water to be more violently stirred than in areas closer to the poles, where their power is only felt indirectly. The equatorial regions of the Earth rotate faster than the rest, describing a larger circle in the same amount of time. Due to the stronger centrifugal force there, the waters might experience less resistance from the sluggish nature of matter; they may have less gravity and therefore respond more readily to external forces of any kind, whether from the winds or other sources.
TIDES.
Tides.
The spring-tides on the west coast of Sumatra are estimated to rise in general no more than four feet, owing to its open, unconfined situation, which prevents any accumulation of the tide, as is the case in narrow seas. It is always high-water there when the moon is in the horizon, and consequently at six o'clock nearly, on the days of conjunction and opposition throughout the year, in parts not far remote from the equator.* This, according to Newton's theory, is about three hours later than the uninterrupted course of nature, owing to the obvious impediment the waters meet with in revolving from the eastward.
The spring tides on the west coast of Sumatra are generally predicted to rise no more than four feet, due to its open, unconfined location which prevents any buildup of the tide, unlike in narrow seas. It’s always high tide when the moon is on the horizon, which means it's nearly at six o'clock during the days of conjunction and opposition throughout the year, in areas not far from the equator.* According to Newton's theory, this is about three hours later than the normal flow of nature, due to the clear obstacles the waters encounter while moving from the east.
(*Footnote. Owing to this uniformity it becomes an easy matter for the natives to ascertain the height of the tide at any hour that the moon is visible. Whilst she appears to ascend the water falls and vice versa; the lowest of the ebb happening when she is in her meridian. The vulgar rule for calculating the tides is rendered also to Europeans more simple and practical from the same cause. There only needs to add together the epact, number of the month, and day of the month; the sum of which, if under thirty, gives the moon's age--the excess, if over. Allow forty-eight minutes for each day or, which is the same, take four-fifths of the age, and it will give you the number of hours after six o'clock at which high-water happens. A readiness at this calculation is particularly useful in a country where the sea-beach is the general road for travelling.)
(*Footnote. Because of this consistency, it's easy for the locals to determine the tide's height at any time the moon is visible. When the moon rises, the water recedes, and vice versa; low tide occurs when the moon is at its highest point. The common method for calculating the tides is also simpler and more practical for Europeans due to this reason. You just need to add the epact, the month number, and the day's date; if the total is under thirty, that indicates the moon's age, and the excess amount indicates the difference if it's over thirty. Allow for forty-eight minutes for each day or, alternatively, take four-fifths of the moon's age to find the number of hours after six o'clock when high tide occurs. Being quick with this calculation is especially useful in a country where the beach serves as the main route for traveling.)
CHAPTER 2.
DISTINCTION OF INHABITANTS.
REJANGS CHOSEN FOR GENERAL DESCRIPTION.
PERSONS AND COMPLEXION.
CLOTHING AND ORNAMENTS.
DISTINCTION OF INHABITANTS.
REJANGS CHOSEN FOR GENERAL DESCRIPTION.
PERSONS AND COMPLEXION.
CLOTHING AND ORNAMENTS.
GENERAL ACCOUNT OF THE INHABITANTS.
Overview of the Residents.
Having exhibited a general view of the island as it is in the hands of nature, I shall now proceed to a description of the people who inhabit and cultivate it, and shall endeavour to distinguish the several species or classes of them in such a manner as may best tend to perspicuity, and to furnish clear ideas of the matter.
Having shown an overall view of the island as it exists in nature, I will now describe the people who live on and farm it, and I will try to categorize the different types or groups of them in a way that makes everything clear and provides a good understanding of the subject.
VARIOUS MODES OF DIVISION.
DIFFERENT WAYS TO DIVIDE.
The most obvious division, and which has been usually made by the writers of voyages, is that of Mahometan inhabitants of the sea-coast, and Pagans of the inland country. This division, though not without its degree of propriety, is vague and imperfect; not only because each description of people differ considerably among themselves, but that the inland inhabitants are, in some places, Mahometans, and those of the coast, in others, what they term Pagans. It is not unusual with persons who have not resided in this part of the East to call the inhabitants of the islands indiscriminately by the name of Malays. This is a more considerable error, and productive of greater confusion than the former. By attempting to reduce things to heads too general we defeat the very end we propose to ourselves in defining them at all: we create obscurity where we wish to throw light. On the other hand, to attempt enumerating and distinguishing the variety, almost endless, of petty sovereignties and nations into which this island is divided, many of which differ nothing in person or manners from their neighbours, would be a task both insurmountable and useless. I shall aim at steering a middle course, and accordingly shall treat of the inhabitants of Sumatra under the following summary distinctions, taking occasion as it may offer to mention the principal subdivisions. And first it is proper to distinguish the empire of Menangkabau and the Malays; in the next place the Achinese; then the Battas; the Rejangs; and next to them the people of Lampong.*
The most obvious division, often made by writers of travels, is between the Muslim residents of the coast and the indigenous people of the inland areas. This classification, while somewhat valid, is vague and incomplete; not only because the characteristics of each group vary significantly, but also because in some regions, the inland people are Muslims, while those on the coast may be referred to as indigenous. It's common for people who haven't lived in this part of the East to refer to the islanders generically as Malays. This is a bigger mistake and creates more confusion than the first division. By trying to simplify things into overly broad categories, we undermine our goal of clarifying them; we end up creating confusion where we aim to provide insight. Conversely, attempting to detail and separate the numerous minor kingdoms and nations that make up this island, many of which have little distinction in appearance or customs from their neighbors, would be a monumental and unnecessary task. I will aim for a balanced approach and will discuss the inhabitants of Sumatra using the following general categories, taking the opportunity to mention the main subdivisions as they arise. First, it's essential to recognize the empire of Menangkabau and the Malays; next, the Achinese; then the Battas; the Rejangs; and following them, the people of Lampong.*
(*Footnote. In the course of my inquiries amongst the natives concerning the aborigines of the island I have been informed of two different species of people dispersed in the woods and avoiding all communication with the other inhabitants. These they call Orang Kubu and Orang Gugu. The former are said to be pretty numerous, especially in that part of the country which lies between Palembang and Jambi. Some have at times been caught and kept as slaves in Labun; and a man of that place is now married to a tolerably handsome Kubu girl who was carried off by a party that discovered their huts. They have a language quite peculiar to themselves, and they eat promiscuously whatever the woods afford, as deer, elephant, rhinoceros, wild hog, snakes, or monkeys. The Gugu are much scarcer than these, differing in little but the use of speech from the Orang Utan of Borneo; their bodies being covered with long hair. There have not been above two or three instances of their being met with by the people of Labun (from whom my information is derived) and one of these was entrapped many years ago in much the same manner as the carpenter in Pilpay's Fables caught the monkey. He had children by a Labun woman which also were more hairy than the common race; but the third generation are not to be distinguished from others. The reader will bestow what measure of faith he thinks due to this relation, the veracity of which I do not pretend to vouch for. It has probably some foundation in truth but is exaggerated in the circumstances.)
(*Footnote. During my research among the locals about the indigenous people of the island, I learned about two different groups that live in the woods and avoid contact with other residents. They call them Orang Kubu and Orang Gugu. The former are said to be fairly numerous, especially in the region between Palembang and Jambi. Some have occasionally been captured and kept as slaves in Labun; currently, a man from there is married to a reasonably attractive Kubu girl who was taken by a group that found their shelters. They have a unique language, and they eat whatever the forest provides, including deer, elephants, rhinoceroses, wild boars, snakes, and monkeys. The Gugu are much rarer and differ little from the Orang Utan of Borneo, except for their ability to speak; their bodies are covered in long hair. There have only been two or three reported encounters with them by the people of Labun (from whom I got my information), and one of these was captured many years ago in a way similar to how the carpenter in Pilpay's Fables caught the monkey. He fathered children with a Labun woman, who were also hairier than the average population; however, the third generation does not stand out from others. The reader can decide how much credibility to give to this account, and I do not claim to vouch for its truthfulness. It probably has some basis in reality but is likely embellished in its details.)
Menangkabau being the principal sovereignty of the island, which formerly comprehended the whole, and still receives a shadow of homage from the most powerful of the other kingdoms which have sprung up from its ruins, would seem to claim a right to precedence in description, but I have a sufficient reason for deferring it to a subsequent part of the work; which is that the people of this empire, by their conversion to Mahometanism and consequent change of manners, have lost in a greater degree than some neighbouring tribes the genuine Sumatran character, which is the immediate object of my investigation.
Menangkabau, once the main authority of the island and encompassing it entirely, still receives a token of respect from the strongest of the other kingdoms that have emerged from its remnants. This might suggest that it deserves to be described first, but I have a good reason to put it off until later in this work. The people of this empire, due to their conversion to Islam and subsequent changes in their ways of life, have lost more of the authentic Sumatran character than some neighboring tribes, which is the primary focus of my research.
MALAYS.
MALAYSIANS.
They are distinguished from the other inhabitants of this island by the appellation of Orang Malayo, or Malays, which however they have in common with those of the coast of the Peninsula and of many other islands; and the name is applied to every Mussulman speaking the Malayan as his proper language, and either belonging to, or claiming descent from, the ancient kingdom of Menangkabau; wherever the place of his residence may be. Beyond Bencoolen to the southward there are none to be met with excepting such as have been drawn thither by, and are in the pay of, Europeans. On the eastern side of the island they are settled at the entrance of almost all the navigable rivers, where they more conveniently indulge their habitual bent for trade and piracy. It must be observed indeed that in common speech the term Malay, like that of Moor in the continent of India, is almost synonymous with Mahometan; and when the natives of other parts learn to read the Arabic character, submit to circumcision, and practise the ceremonies of religion, they are often said men-jadi Malayo, to become Malays, instead of the more correct expression sudah masuk Islam, have embraced the faith. The distinction will appear more strongly from this circumstance, that whilst the sultan of Anak Sungei (Moco-moco), ambitious of imitating the sultan of Menangkabau, styles himself and his immediate subjects Malays, his neighbour, the Pangeran of Sungei Lamo, chief of the Rejangs, a very civilised Mahometan, and whose ancestors for some generations were of the same faith, seemed offended, in a conversation I had with him, at my supposing him (as he is usually considered) a Malay, and replied with some emotion, "Malayo tidah, sir; orang ulu betul sayo." "No Malay sir; I am a genuine, aboriginal countryman." The two languages he wrote and talked (I know not if he be still living) with equal facility; but the Rejang he esteemed his mother tongue.
They are referred to as Orang Malayo, or Malays, which sets them apart from the other residents of this island, though this name is also shared with those from the coast of the Peninsula and many other islands. The term is used for any Muslim who speaks Malay as their native language and either belongs to or claims descent from the ancient kingdom of Menangkabau, regardless of where they live. South of Bencoolen, the only ones found are those drawn there by Europeans and in their employ. On the eastern side of the island, they are settled near the entrances of almost all navigable rivers, where they can freely engage in their usual trading and piracy. It's important to note that in everyday conversation, the term Malay is almost synonymous with Muslim, similar to how Moor is used in India. When people from other regions learn to read Arabic, undergo circumcision, and perform religious practices, they are often said to men-jadi Malayo, meaning "to become Malays," instead of the more accurate term sudah masuk Islam, which means "have embraced the faith." This distinction becomes clearer when considering that while the sultan of Anak Sungei (Moco-moco) tries to mimic the sultan of Menangkabau and calls himself and his close subjects Malays, his neighbor, the Pangeran of Sungei Lamo, chief of the Rejangs, a highly cultured Muslim whose ancestors have been of the same faith for generations, was offended in a conversation we had when I mistakenly referred to him (as he is commonly thought of) as a Malay. He responded with some emotion, saying, "Malayo tidah, sir; orang ulu betul sayo," meaning, "No Malay, sir; I am a genuine, aboriginal countryman." He spoke and wrote both languages fluently (I’m not sure if he’s still alive), but he considered Rejang his mother tongue.
Attempts to ascertain from what quarter Sumatra was peopled must rest upon mere conjecture. The adjacent peninsula (called by Europeans or other foreigners the Malayan Peninsula) presents the most obvious source of population; and it has accordingly been presumed that emigrants from thence supplied it and the other islands of the eastern Archipelago with inhabitants. By this opinion, adopted without examination, I was likewise misled and, on a former occasion, spoke of the probability of a colony from the peninsula having settled upon the western coast of the island; but I have since learned from the histories and traditions of the natives of both countries that the reverse is the fact, and that the founders of the celebrated kingdoms of Johor, Singapura, and Malacca were adventurers from Sumatra. Even at this day the inhabitants of the interior parts of the peninsula are a race entirely distinct from those of the two coasts.
Attempts to figure out where the people of Sumatra came from can only be based on guesses. The nearby peninsula (known by Europeans and other foreigners as the Malayan Peninsula) seems to be the most likely source of its population; hence, it has been assumed that migrants from there populated Sumatra and the other islands of the eastern Archipelago. I also followed this assumption without questioning it and previously mentioned the likelihood that a colony from the peninsula settled on the western coast of the island. However, I’ve since discovered through the histories and traditions of the native people from both areas that the opposite is true: the founders of the well-known kingdoms of Johor, Singapura, and Malacca were adventurers from Sumatra. Even today, the people living in the interior parts of the peninsula are an entirely different race from those on its two coasts.
Thus much it was necessary, in order to avoid ambiguity, to say in the first instance concerning the Malays, of whom a more particular account will be given in a subsequent part of the work.
Thus, it was necessary, to avoid confusion, to mention this first regarding the Malays, about whom a more detailed account will be provided in a later section of the work.
As the most dissimilar among the other classes into which I have divided the inhabitants must of course have very many points of mutual resemblance, and many of their habits, customs, and ceremonies, in common, it becomes expedient, in order to avoid a troublesome and useless repetition, to single out one class from among them whose manners shall undergo a particular and full investigation, and serve as a standard for the whole; the deviation from which, in other classes, shall afterwards be pointed out, and the most singular and striking usages peculiar to each superadded.
Since the most different class among the others I’ve categorized must naturally share numerous similarities, along with various habits, customs, and ceremonies, it makes sense to focus on one class for a detailed examination. This class will serve as a standard for all, and I'll highlight any deviations found in the other classes later, along with their unique and notable practices.
NATION OF THE REJANGS ADOPTED AS A STANDARD OF DESCRIPTION.
NATION OF THE REJANGS TAKEN AS A STANDARD FOR DESCRIPTION.
Various circumstances induce me on this occasion to give the preference to the Rejangs, though a nation of but small account in the political scale of the island. They are placed in what may be esteemed a central situation, not geographically, but with respect to the encroachments of foreign manners and opinions introduced by the Malays from the north, and Javans from the south; which gives them a claim to originality superior to that of most others. They are a people whose form of government and whose laws extend with very little variation over a considerable part of the island, and principally that portion where the connexions of the English lie. There are traditions of their having formerly sent forth colonies to the southward; and in the country of Passummah the site of their villages is still pointed out; which would prove that they have formerly been of more consideration than they can boast at present. They have a proper language and a perfect written character. These advantages point out the Rejang people as an eligible standard of description; and a motive equally strong that induces me to adopt them as such is that my situation and connexions in the island led me to a more intimate and minute acquaintance with their laws and manners than with those of any other class. I must premise however that the Malay customs having made their way in a greater or less degree to every part of Sumatra, it will be totally impossible to discriminate with entire accuracy those which are original from those which are borrowed; and of course what I shall say of the Rejangs will apply for the most part not only to the Sumatrans in general but may sometimes be in strictness proper to the Malays alone, and by them taught to the higher rank of country people.
Several factors lead me to choose the Rejangs for discussion, even though they are a small nation in the political landscape of the island. They occupy what can be seen as a central position, not in terms of geography, but in relation to the influence of foreign customs and ideas brought in by the Malays from the north and the Javanese from the south. This gives them a claim to originality that surpasses most others. They have a form of government and legal system that remains quite consistent across a large part of the island, especially in areas connected to the English. There are legends about them having sent colonies to the south in the past; in Passummah, the locations of their old villages are still pointed out, suggesting they were once more significant than they are today. They have their own language and a fully developed written script. These strengths make the Rejang people a fitting standard for description, and an equally strong reason for me to choose them is that my position and connections in the island have allowed me to gain a closer and more detailed understanding of their laws and customs compared to any other group. However, I should note that Malay customs have influenced nearly every part of Sumatra to varying degrees, so it will be entirely impossible to accurately distinguish what is original from what is borrowed. Consequently, much of what I say about the Rejangs will largely apply not just to the people of Sumatra in general but may sometimes specifically pertain to the Malays, who have taught these customs to the higher classes of the local populace.
SITUATION OF THE REJANG COUNTRY.
STATE OF THE REJANG COUNTRY.
The country of the Rejangs is divided to the north-west from the kingdom of Anak Sungei (of which Moco-moco is the capital) by the small river of Uri, near that of Kattaun; which last, with the district of Labun on its banks, bounds it on the north or inland side. The country of Musi, where Palembang River takes its rise, forms its limit to the eastward. Bencoolen River, precisely speaking, confines it on the south-east; though the inhabitants of the district called Lemba, extending from thence to Silebar, are entirely the same people in manners and language. The principal rivers besides those already mentioned are Laye, Pally, and Sungeilamo; on all of which the English have factories, the resident or chief being stationed at Laye.
The Rejang country is bordered to the northwest by the kingdom of Anak Sungei, which has its capital in Moco-moco, separated by the small Uri River near the Kattaun River. The Kattaun, along with the Labun area along its banks, defines the northern or inland boundary. To the east, the country meets the area where the Palembang River originates, known as Musi. The Bencoolen River technically marks the southeast border, although the people living in Lemba, stretching from there to Silebar, are the same in customs and language. Other key rivers include Laye, Pally, and Sungeilamo, all of which have English trading posts, with the chief representative located at Laye.
PERSONS OF THE INHABITANTS.
RESIDENTS OF THE COMMUNITY.
The persons of the inhabitants of the island, though differing considerably in districts remote from each other, may in general be comprehended in the following description; excepting the Achinese, whose commixture with the Moors of the west of India has distinguished them from the other Sumatrans.
The residents of the island, while quite diverse in areas far from one another, can generally be described in the following way; except for the Achinese, whose mixture with the Moors from West India has set them apart from the other people of Sumatra.
GENERAL DESCRIPTION.
OVERVIEW.
They are rather below the middle stature; their bulk is in proportion; their limbs are for the most part slight, but well shaped, and particularly small at the wrists and ankles. Upon the whole they are gracefully formed, and I scarcely recollect to have ever seen one deformed person among the natives.*
They are somewhat shorter than average, and their body size is proportionate. Their limbs are mostly thin but well-shaped, especially at the wrists and ankles. Overall, they have an elegant appearance, and I hardly remember seeing a deformed person among the locals.*
(*Footnote. Ghirardini, an Italian painter, who touched at Sumatra on his way to China in 1698 observes of the Malays:Son di persona ben formata
Quanto mai finger san pittori industri.
He speaks in high terms of the country as being beautifully picturesque.)
(*Footnote. Ghirardini, an Italian painter, who stopped in Sumatra on his way to China in 1698, notes about the Malays:They have well-proportioned bodies.
Indeed, they are as skilled as industrious painters.
He praises the country, describing it as stunningly picturesque.
The women however have the preposterous custom of flattening the noses, and compressing the heads of children newly born, whilst the skull is yet cartilaginous, which increases their natural tendency to that shape. I could never trace the origin of the practice, or learn any other reason for moulding the features to this uncouth appearance, but that it was an improvement of beauty in their estimation. Captain Cook takes notice of a similar operation at the island of Ulietea. They likewise pull out the ears of infants to make them stand at an angle from the head. Their eyes are uniformly dark and clear, and among some, especially the southern women, bear a strong resemblance to those of the Chinese, in the peculiarity of formation so generally observed of that people. Their hair is strong and of a shining black; the improvement of both which qualities it probably owes in great measure to the early and constant use of coconut oil, with which they keep it moist. The men frequently cut their hair short, not appearing to take any pride in it; the women encourage theirs to a considerable length, and I have known many instances of its reaching the ground. The men are beardless and have chins so remarkably smooth that, were it not for the priests displaying a little tuft, we should be apt to conclude that nature had refused them this token of manhood. It is the same in respect to other parts of the body with both sexes; and this particular attention to their persons they esteem a point of delicacy, and the contrary an unpardonable neglect. The boys as they approach to the age of puberty rub their chins, upper lips, and those parts of the body that are subject to superfluous hair with chunam (quicklime) especially of shells, which destroys the roots of the incipient beard. The few pilae that afterwards appear are plucked out from time to time with tweezers, which they always carry about them for that purpose. Were it not for the numerous and very respectable authorities from which we are assured that the natives of America are naturally beardless, I should think that the common opinion on that subject had been rashly adopted, and that their appearing thus at a mature age was only the consequence of an early practice, similar to that observed among the Sumatrans. Even now I must confess that it would remove some small degree of doubt from my mind could it be ascertained that no such custom prevails.*
The women, however, have the strange habit of flattening the noses and compressing the heads of newborns while their skulls are still soft, which enhances their natural tendency toward that shape. I could never figure out the origin of this practice or learn any other reason for shaping their features in such an unusual way, except that they believe it improves beauty. Captain Cook mentions a similar practice on the island of Ulietea. They also pull out the ears of infants to make them stick out from the head. Their eyes are consistently dark and clear, and among some, especially the women from the south, they closely resemble the eyes of Chinese people in the way they are shaped, a common characteristic for that group. Their hair is strong and shiny black; these qualities are likely enhanced by the frequent use of coconut oil, which keeps it moisturized. The men often cut their hair short and don’t seem to take pride in it; the women, on the other hand, grow theirs long, and I've seen many instances where it reached the ground. The men have no beards and their chins are so remarkably smooth that, if it weren't for the priests displaying a small tuft, we might think nature had denied them this mark of manhood. The same applies to other parts of the body for both genders; they consider their grooming a matter of delicacy, and neglecting it is seen as unforgivable. As boys approach puberty, they rub their chins, upper lips, and areas prone to excess hair with chunam (quicklime) made from shells, which destroys the roots of the early beard. The few hairs that eventually appear are plucked out periodically with tweezers, which they always carry for this purpose. If it weren't for the many credible sources confirming that the natives of America are naturally beardless, I might think that the common belief on this topic was hastily formed, and that the absence of beards in adulthood was merely the result of a practice similar to that of the Sumatrans. Even now, I must admit that it would lessen a bit of doubt in my mind if it could be confirmed that no such custom exists.
(*Footnote. It is allowed by travellers that the Patagonians have tufts of hair on the upper lip and chin. Captain Carver says that among the tribes he visited the people made a regular practice of eradicating their beards with pincers. At Brussels is preserved, along with a variety of ancient and curious suits of armour, that of Montezuma, king of Mexico, of which the visor, or mask for the face, has remarkably large whiskers; an ornament which those Americans could not have imitated unless nature had presented them with the model. See a paper in the Philosophical Transactions for 1786, which puts this matter beyond a doubt. In a French dictionary of the Huron language, published in 1632, I observe a term corresponding to "arracher la barbe.")
(*Footnote. Travelers have reported that the Patagonians have tufts of hair on their upper lip and chin. Captain Carver mentions that among the tribes he visited, people regularly removed their beards using pincers. In Brussels, alongside various ancient and interesting suits of armor, is preserved the armor of Montezuma, the king of Mexico, which features a mask with exceptionally large whiskers—an ornament that those Americans could not have replicated unless nature provided them with the model. Refer to a paper in the Philosophical Transactions from 1786, which clarifies this issue. In a French dictionary of the Huron language published in 1632, I noticed a term that corresponds to "arracher la barbe.")
Their complexion is properly yellow, wanting the red tinge that constitutes a tawny or copper colour. They are in general lighter than the Mestees, or halfbreed, of the rest of India; those of the superior class who are not exposed to the rays of the sun, and particularly their women of rank, approaching to a great degree of fairness. Did beauty consist in this one quality some of them would surpass our brunettes in Europe. The major part of the females are ugly, and many of them even to disgust, yet there are those among them whose appearance is strikingly beautiful; whatever composition of person, features, and complexion that sentiment may be the result of.
Their skin is a distinct yellow, lacking the reddish hue that gives a tawny or copper color. In general, they are lighter than the Mestees, or mixed-race individuals, found elsewhere in India; those from the upper class who avoid direct sunlight, particularly their women of high status, tend to be quite fair. If beauty were solely based on this one trait, some of them would outshine our European brunettes. Most of the women are unattractive, and some are even quite unpleasant to look at, yet there are others among them who are strikingly beautiful, regardless of the combination of body type, facial features, and skin tone that contributes to that impression.
COLOUR NOT ASCRIBABLE TO CLIMATE.
COLOR NOT ATTRIBUTABLE TO CLIMATE.
The fairness of the Sumatrans comparatively with other Indians, situated as they are under a perpendicular sun where no season of the year affords an alternative of cold, is I think an irrefragable proof that the difference of colour in the various inhabitants of the earth is not the immediate effect of climate. The children of Europeans born in this island are as fair as those born in the country of their parents. I have observed the same of the second generation, where a mixture with the people of the country has been avoided. On the other hand the offspring and all the descendants of the Guinea and other African slaves imported there continue in the last instance as perfectly black as in the original stock. I do not mean to enter into the merits of the question which naturally connects with these observations; but shall only remark that the sallow and adust countenances so commonly acquired by Europeans who have long resided in hot climates are more ascribable to the effect of bilious distempers, which almost all are subject to in a greater or less degree, than of their exposure to the influence of the weather, which few but seafaring people are liable to, and of which the impression is seldom permanent. From this circumstance I have been led to conjecture that the general disparity of complexions in different nations might POSSIBLY be owing to the more or less copious secretion or redundance of that juice, rendering the skin more or less dark according to the qualities of the bile prevailing in the constitutions of each. But I fear such a hypothesis would not stand the test of experiment, as it might be expected to follow that, upon dissection, the contents of a negro's gall-bladder, or at least the extravasated bile, should uniformly be found black. Persons skilled in anatomy will determine whether it is possible that the qualities of any animal secretion can so far affect the frame as to render their consequences liable to be transmitted to posterity in their full force.*
The fairness of the Sumatran people compared to other Indians, as they live under a direct sun with no yearly cold season, is, I believe, a strong indication that the differences in skin color among the earth's inhabitants are not simply due to climate. Children of Europeans born on this island are just as fair as those born in their parents' homeland. I've noticed the same among second-generation individuals, where there has been no mixing with the local population. On the other hand, the offspring and all descendants of the African slaves brought there remain just as black as their original lineage. I don’t intend to dive into the implications of these observations; I will only mention that the sallow and tanned appearances often seen in Europeans living in hot climates are more likely a result of liver disorders, which nearly everyone experiences to some extent, rather than just their exposure to the weather, which is mostly encountered by sailors and rarely leaves a lasting mark. This has led me to speculate that the general differences in skin tone across various nations could POSSIBLY be due to the varying amounts of bile produced, which might darken the skin depending on the type of bile predominant in each person's constitution. However, I worry that this theory wouldn’t hold up under testing, as one might expect that, upon dissection, a black person's gallbladder contents, or at least the spilled bile, should consistently be found to be black. Experts in anatomy will determine whether it is even possible for the characteristics of any bodily secretion to influence the body to the extent that these effects could be passed down to future generations in their full form.*
(*Footnote. In an Essay on the Causes of the Variety of Complexion and Figure in the Human Species published at Philadelphia in 1787 the permanent effect of the bilious secretion in determining the colour is strongly insisted upon.)
(*Footnote. In an essay titled "On the Causes of the Variety of Complexion and Figure in the Human Species," published in Philadelphia in 1787, the lasting impact of bile secretion on determining skin color is strongly emphasized.)
The small size of the inhabitants, and especially of the women, may be in some measure owing to the early communication between the sexes; though, as the inclinations which lead to this intercourse are prompted here by nature sooner than in cold climates, it is not unfair to suppose that, being proportioned to the period of maturity, this is also sooner attained, and consequently that the earlier cessation of growth of these people is agreeable to the laws of their constitution, and not occasioned by a premature and irregular appetite.
The small stature of the people, especially the women, might be partly due to the early interactions between the sexes. Since the natural urges that lead to these relationships are triggered here earlier than in colder climates, it seems reasonable to think that, aligned with the timing of maturity, this development occurs sooner. Thus, the earlier stop in growth of these individuals aligns with their natural constitutions, rather than being caused by an early or irregular desire.
Persons of superior rank encourage the growth of their hand-nails, particularly those of the fore and little fingers, to an extraordinary length; frequently tingeing them red with the expressed juice of a shrub which they call inei, the henna of the Arabians; as they do the nails of their feet also, to which, being always uncovered, they pay as much attention as to their hands. The hands of the natives, and even of the halfbreed, are always cold to the touch; which I cannot account for otherwise than by a supposition that, from the less degree of elasticity in the solids occasioned by the heat of the climate, the internal action of the body by which the fluids are put in motion is less vigorous, the circulation is proportionably languid, and of course the diminished effect is most perceptible in the extremities, and a coldness there is the natural consequence.
People of higher social status grow their fingernails, especially on the index and pinky fingers, to an extraordinary length, often dyeing them red with the juice of a plant they call inei, similar to the henna used by Arabs. They also pay as much attention to their toenails, which are always exposed. The hands of the locals, and even those of mixed heritage, are usually cold to the touch. I can only explain this by guessing that, due to the reduced elasticity of the body's tissues caused by the warm climate, the body's internal processes that move fluids are less active, leading to slower circulation. As a result, the most noticeable effect is in the extremities, which naturally leads to coldness there.
HILL PEOPLE SUBJECT TO WENS.
Hill people affected by wens.
The natives of the hills through the whole extent of the island are subject to those monstrous wens from the throat which have been observed of the Vallaisans and the inhabitants of other mountainous districts in Europe. It has been usual to attribute this affection to the badness, thawed state, mineral quality, or other peculiarity of the waters; many skilful men having applied themselves to the investigation of the subject. My experience enables me to pronounce without hesitation that the disorder, for such it is though it appears here to mark a distinct race of people (orang-gunong), is immediately connected with the hilliness of the country, and of course, if the circumstances of the water they use contribute thereto, it must be only so far as the nature of the water is affected by the inequality or height of the land. But in Sumatra neither snow nor other congelation is ever produced, which militates against the most plausible conjecture that has been adopted concerning the Alpine goitres. From every research that I have been enabled to make I think I have reason to conclude that the complaint is owing, among the Sumatrans, to the fogginess of the air in the valleys between the high mountains, where, and not on the summits, the natives of these parts reside. I before remarked that, between the ranges of hills, the kabut or dense mist was visible for several hours every morning; rising in a thick, opaque, and well-defined body with the sun, and seldom quite dispersed till afternoon. This phenomenon, as well as that of the wens, being peculiar to the regions of the hills, affords a presumption that they may be connected; exclusive of the natural probability that a cold vapour, gross to a uncommon degree, and continually enveloping the habitations, should affect with tumors the throats of the inhabitants. I cannot pretend to say how far this solution may apply to the case of the goitres, but I recollect it to have been mentioned that the only method of curing the people is by removing them from the valleys to the clear and pure air on the tops of the hills; which seems to indicate a similar source of the distemper to what I have pointed out. The Sumatrans do not appear to attempt any remedy for it, the wens being consistent with the highest health in other respects.
The people living in the hills across the entire island suffer from those large thyroid swellings in the throat that have been noted among the Vallaisans and other mountain communities in Europe. It's often thought that this condition is due to the poor quality, melted state, mineral composition, or other unique characteristics of the water; many skilled individuals have studied this topic. From my experience, I can confidently state that this disorder, which seems to define a distinct group of people (orang-gunong), is directly linked to the hilly terrain. If the water they use contributes to this issue, it must only be to the extent that the quality of the water is influenced by the elevation of the land. However, in Sumatra, there is never any snow or freezing, which counters the most credible theory related to Alpine goiters. From all the research I've conducted, I believe the problem among the Sumatrans is due to the foggy air in the valleys between the high mountains, where the locals actually live, rather than at the peaks. I previously noted that, between the hills, thick mist (kabut) was visible for several hours each morning; it rises in a dense, opaque, and well-defined mass with the sun and usually doesn't disappear completely until the afternoon. This phenomenon, along with the swellings, is specific to the hilly regions, suggesting they may be related, especially considering the likelihood that a particularly cold, heavy vapor enveloping the homes could cause tumors in the residents' throats. I can't say how much this explanation applies to the case of goiters, but I've heard that the only way to treat the condition is by moving people from the valleys to the clean, fresh air at the tops of the hills, which seems to point to a similar cause for the ailment I've mentioned. The Sumatrans don't seem to try any remedies for it, as these swellings occur even when individuals are otherwise very healthy.
DIFFERENCE IN PERSON BETWEEN MALAYS AND OTHER SUMATRANS.
DIFFERENCE IN PERSON BETWEEN MALAYS AND OTHER SUMATRANS.
The personal difference between the Malays of the coast and the country inhabitants is not so strongly marked but that it requires some experience to distinguish them. The latter however possess an evident superiority in point of size and strength, and are fairer complexioned, which they probably owe to their situation, where the atmosphere is colder; and it is generally observed that people living near the seashore, and especially when accustomed to navigation, are darker than their inland neighbours. Some attribute the disparity in constitutional vigour to the more frequent use of opium among the Malays, which is supposed to debilitate the frame; but I have noted that the Limun and Batang Asei gold traders, who are a colony of that race settled in the heart of the island, and who cannot exist a day without opium, are remarkably hale and stout; which I have known to be observed with a degree of envy by the opium-smokers of our settlements. The inhabitants of Passummah also are described as being more robust in their persons than the planters of the low country.
The personal differences between the coastal Malays and those from the countryside aren't as pronounced, but it takes some experience to tell them apart. However, the latter tend to be noticeably larger and stronger, and they have a fairer complexion, likely due to their cooler environment. It's generally noticed that people living by the sea, especially those who are used to sailing, are darker than their inland neighbors. Some people think the difference in overall health is because Malays use opium more frequently, which is believed to weaken the body; but I've observed that the Limun and Batang Asei gold traders, who are part of this group living in the center of the island and can't go a day without opium, are surprisingly healthy and strong—something I've seen others in our settlements envy. The people of Passummah are also noted for being more robust than the lowland planters.
CLOTHING.
Apparel.
The original clothing of the Sumatrans is the same with that found by navigators among the inhabitants of the South Sea Islands, and now generally called by the name of Otaheitean cloth. It is still used among the Rejangs for their working dress, and I have one in my possession procured from these people consisting of a jacket, short drawers, and a cap for the head. This is the inner bark of a certain species of tree, beaten out to the degree of fineness required, approaching the more to perfection as it resembles the softer kind of leather, some being nearly equal to the most delicate kid-skin; in which character it somewhat differs from the South Sea cloth, as that bears a resemblance rather to paper, or to the manufacture of the loom. The country people now conform in a great measure to the dress of the Malays, which I shall therefore describe in this place, observing that much more simplicity still prevails among the former, who look upon the others as coxcombs who lay out all their substance on their backs, whilst in their turns they are regarded by the Malays with contempt as unpolished rustics.
The traditional clothing of the Sumatrans is similar to what navigators found among the people of the South Sea Islands, now commonly referred to as Otaheitean cloth. It is still worn by the Rejangs as part of their work attire, and I have one in my possession that I got from these people, which includes a jacket, short pants, and a cap. This clothing is made from the inner bark of a specific type of tree, processed to a level of fineness that makes it feel close to soft leather, with some types being nearly as delicate as kid-skin. This distinguishes it from South Sea cloth, which resembles paper or woven fabric. The locals now largely adopt the dress style of the Malays, which I'll describe here, noting that the former maintain a greater simplicity. They view the Malays as vain for spending their entire resources on their appearance, while the Malays regard the locals with disdain as rustic and unsophisticated.
MAN'S DRESS.
MAN'S OUTFIT.
A man's dress consists of the following parts. A close waistcoat, without sleeves, but having a neck like a shirt, buttoned close up to the top, with buttons, often of gold filigree. This is peculiar to the Malays. Over this they wear the baju, which resembles a morning gown, open at the neck, but generally fastened close at the wrists and halfway up the arm, with nine buttons to each sleeve. The sleeves, however, are often wide and loose, and others again, though nearly tight, reach not far beyond the elbow, especially of those worn by the younger females, which, as well as those of the young men, are open in front no farther down than the bosom, and reach no lower than the waist, whereas the others hang loose to the knees, and sometimes to the ankles. They are made usually of blue or white cotton cloth; for the better sort, of chintz; and for great men, of flowered silks. The kain-sarong is not unlike a Scots highlander's plaid in appearance, being a piece of party-coloured cloth about six or eight feet long and three or four wide, sewed together at the ends; forming, as some writers have described it, a wide sack without a bottom. This is sometimes gathered up and slung over the shoulder like a sash, or else folded and tucked about the waist and hips; and in full dress it is bound on by the belt of the kris (dagger), which is of crimson silk and wraps several times round the body, with a loop at the end in which the sheath of the kris hangs. They wear short drawers reaching halfway down the thigh, generally of red or yellow taffeta. There is no covering to their legs or feet. Round their heads they fasten, in a particular manner, a fine, coloured handkerchief, so as to resemble a small turban; the country people usually twisting a piece of white or blue cloth for this purpose. The crown of their head remains uncovered except on journeys, when they wear a tudong or umbrella-hat, which completely screens them from the weather.
A man's outfit consists of several parts. He wears a fitted waistcoat without sleeves, but with a shirt-like neckline, buttoned up to the top with buttons, often made of gold filigree. This is typical for Malays. Over this, they wear a baju, which looks like a morning gown, open at the neck but usually fastened tightly at the wrists and halfway up the arms, with nine buttons on each sleeve. The sleeves can be wide and loose, while others, though almost tight, do not extend far beyond the elbow, especially those worn by younger women. Both young men and women wear these garments open in front only down to the chest and reaching no lower than the waist, whereas others hang loosely down to the knees and sometimes to the ankles. They are typically made of blue or white cotton fabric; for better quality, they use chintz; and for important figures, they are made of patterned silks. The kain-sarong resembles a Scottish highlander’s plaid, being a piece of multicolored cloth about six or eight feet long and three or four feet wide, sewn together at the ends to create, as some writers describe it, a large sack without a bottom. This can be gathered and slung over the shoulder like a sash, or folded and tucked around the waist and hips. When fully dressed, it's secured with a kris belt (dagger), which is made of crimson silk and wrapped several times around the body, featuring a loop at the end for hanging the kris sheath. They wear short drawers that reach halfway down the thigh, usually made of red or yellow taffeta, with no covering for their legs or feet. They tie a fine, colored handkerchief around their heads in a specific way, resembling a small turban; locals usually twist a piece of white or blue cloth for this. The crown of their head remains uncovered except during journeys, when they wear a tudong or umbrella hat that fully shields them from the weather.
WOMAN'S DRESS.
WOMEN'S DRESS.
The women have a kind of bodice, or short waistcoat rather, that defends the breasts and reaches to the hips. The kain-sarong, before described, comes up as high as the armpits, and extends to the feet, being kept on simply by folding and tucking it over at the breast, except when the tali-pending, or zone, is worn about the waist, which forms an additional and necessary security. This is usually of embroidered cloth, and sometimes a plate of gold or silver, about two inches broad, fastening in the front with a large clasp of filigree or chased work, with some kind of precious stone, or imitation of such, in the centre. The baju, or upper gown, differs little from that of the men, buttoning in the same manner at the wrists. A piece of fine, thin, cotton cloth, or slight silk, about five feet long, and worked or fringed at each end, called a salendang, is thrown across the back of the neck, and hangs down before; serving also the purpose of a veil to the women of rank when they walk abroad. The handkerchief is carried either folded small in the hand, or in a long fold over the shoulder. There are two modes of dressing the hair, one termed kundei and the other sanggol. The first resembles much the fashion in which we see the Chinese women represented in paintings, and which I conclude they borrowed from thence, where the hair is wound circularly over the centre of the head, and fastened with a silver bodkin or pin. In the other mode, which is more general, they give the hair a single twist as it hangs behind, and then doubling it up they pass it crosswise under a few hairs separated from the rest on the back of the head for that purpose. A comb, often of tortoise-shell and sometimes filigreed, helps to prevent it from falling down. The hair of the front and of all parts of the head is of the same length, and when loose hangs together behind, with most of the women, in very great quantity. It is kept moist with oil newly expressed from the coconut; but those persons who can afford it make use also of an empyreumatic oil extracted from gum benzoin, as a grateful perfume. They wear no covering except ornaments of flowers, which on particular occasions are the work of much labour and ingenuity. The head-dresses of the dancing girls by profession, who are usually Javans, are very artificially wrought, and as high as any modern English lady's cap, yielding only to the feathered plumes of the year 1777. It is impossible to describe in words these intricate and fanciful matters so as to convey a just idea of them. The flowers worn in undress are for the most part strung in wreaths, and have a very neat and pretty effect, without any degree of gaudiness, being usually white or pale yellow, small, and frequently only half-blown. Those generally chosen for these occasions are the bunga-tanjong and bunga-mellur: the bunga-chumpaka is used to give the hair a fragrance, but is concealed from the sight. They sometimes combine a variety of flowers in such a manner as to appear like one, and fix them on a single stalk; but these, being more formal, are less elegant than the wreaths.
The women wear a type of bodice or short waistcoat that protects their breasts and extends to their hips. The kain-sarong, described earlier, rises to the armpits and flows down to the feet, secured simply by folding and tucking it over at the chest, unless the tali-pending, or waistband, is worn around the waist for added support. This waistband is typically made of embroidered fabric and occasionally features a plate of gold or silver about two inches wide, fastening in the front with a large decorative clasp adorned with a precious stone or imitation gem in the center. The baju, or upper gown, is similar to the men's version, buttoning at the wrists in the same way. A piece of thin cotton or lightweight silk, around five feet long and decorated or fringed at both ends, called a salendang, is draped across the back of the neck and hangs in front, also serving as a veil for women of higher status when they go out. Handkerchiefs are carried either folded small in the hand or in a long fold over the shoulder. There are two styles of hairstyling: one called kundei and the other sanggol. The first looks like how Chinese women are depicted in paintings, where the hair is wound in a circle at the top of the head and secured with a silver pin. In the more common style, the hair is twisted once as it hangs down the back and then folded up, secured beneath a few separated strands at the back of the head. A comb, often made of tortoise shell and sometimes decorated, helps keep it in place. The hair at the front and throughout the head is uniform in length and, when loose, hangs down together in great volume for most women. It is kept moist with freshly pressed coconut oil; however, those who can afford it also use an aromatic oil extracted from gum benzoin for a lovely fragrance. They wear no coverings except for floral ornaments, which, on special occasions, are crafted with great effort and creativity. The headpieces of professional dancing girls, usually Javanese, are intricately designed and can be as tall as modern English ladies' caps, rivaled only by the feathered plumes of 1777. It's incredibly challenging to describe these intricate and fanciful items accurately. The flowers worn in casual settings are mostly strung in wreaths and look neat and pretty without being overly flashy, typically white or pale yellow, small, and often only partially bloomed. The flowers usually selected for these occasions include bunga-tanjong and bunga-mellur; bunga-chumpaka is used for fragrance but is hidden from view. Sometimes, various flowers are combined to appear as one and attached to a single stalk; however, these arrangements tend to be more formal and less elegant than the wreaths.
DISTINGUISHING ORNAMENTS OF VIRGINS.
DISTINCTIVE VIRGIN ORNAMENTS.
Among the country people, particularly in the southern countries, the virgins (anak gaddis, or goddesses, as it is usually pronounced) are distinguished by a fillet which goes across the front of the hair and fastens behind. This is commonly a thin plate of silver, about half an inch broad: those of the first rank have it of gold, and those of the lowest class have their fillet of the leaf of the nipah tree. Beside this peculiar ornament their state is denoted by their having rings or bracelets of silver or gold on their wrists. Strings of coins round the neck are universally worn by children, and the females, before they are of an age to be clothed, have what may not be inaptly termed a modesty-piece, being a plate of silver in the shape of a heart (called chaping) hung before, by a chain of the same metal, passing round the waist. The young women in the country villages manufacture themselves the cloth that forms the body-dress, or kain-sarong, which for common occasions is their only covering, and reaches from the breast no lower than the knees. The dresses of the women of the Malay bazaars on the contrary extend as low as the feet; but here, as in other instances, the more scrupulous attention to appearances does not accompany the superior degree of real modesty. This cloth, for the wear both of men and women, is imported from the island of Celebes, or, as it is here termed, the Bugis country.
Among the rural people, especially in the southern regions, the virgins (anak gaddis, or goddesses, as it’s usually pronounced) are recognized by a headband that goes across the front of their hair and ties at the back. This is typically a thin silver plate, about half an inch wide: those of higher status have it made of gold, while those of lower status have theirs made from the leaves of the nipah tree. In addition to this unique ornament, their status is marked by rings or bracelets of silver or gold on their wrists. Children universally wear strings of coins around their necks, and before girls reach an age to wear clothing, they have what could be aptly called a modesty-piece—a heart-shaped silver plate (called chaping) hung in front by a chain of the same metal that wraps around the waist. Young women in rural villages weave the cloth for their body dress, or kain-sarong, which serves as their only covering for everyday occasions, reaching from the chest to just above the knees. In contrast, the dresses of women in the Malay bazaars extend down to the feet; however, here, as in other cases, a greater focus on appearance does not equate to a higher level of genuine modesty. This fabric, worn by both men and women, is imported from the island of Celebes, or as it’s referred to here, the Bugis country.
MODE OF FILING TEETH.
Filing teeth method.
Both sexes have the extraordinary custom of filing and otherwise disfiguring their teeth, which are naturally very white and beautiful from the simplicity of their food. For files they make use of small whetstones of different degrees of fineness, and the patients lie on their back during the operation. Many, particularly the women of the Lampong country, have their teeth rubbed down quite even with the gums; others have them formed in points; and some file off no more than the outer coat and extremities, in order that they may the better receive and retain the jetty blackness with which they almost universally adorn them. The black used on these occasions is the empyreumatic oil of the coconut-shell. When this is not applied the filing does not, by destroying what we term the enamel, diminish the whiteness of the teeth; but the use of betel renders them black if pains be not taken to prevent it. The great men sometimes set theirs in gold, by casing, with a plate of that metal, the under row; and this ornament, contrasted with the black dye, has by lamp or candlelight a very splendid effect. It is sometimes indented to the shape of the teeth, but more usually quite plain. They do not remove it either to eat or sleep.
Both men and women have the unusual practice of filing and altering their teeth, which are naturally very white and beautiful due to their simple diet. They use small whetstones of varying fineness for this process, and patients lie on their backs during the procedure. Many, especially the women from Lampong, file their teeth down to be even with the gums; others shape theirs into points; and some only file the outer layer and tips to better hold the deep black color that they almost all use to decorate their teeth. The black is made from the burnt oil of coconut shells. If this isn’t applied, the filing doesn’t reduce the teeth's whiteness by damaging what we call enamel; however, using betel can stain them black if care isn’t taken to prevent it. Some affluent individuals even set their teeth in gold, covering the lower row with a plate of that metal, and this decoration, paired with the black dye, looks very striking under candle or lamplight. Sometimes the gold is shaped to fit the teeth, but more often it is left plain. They don’t take it off for eating or sleeping.
At the age of about eight or nine they bore the ears and file the teeth of the female children; which are ceremonies that must necessarily precede their marriage. The former they call betende, and the latter bedabong; and these operations are regarded in the family as the occasion of a festival. They do not here, as in some of the adjacent islands (of Nias in particular), increase the aperture of the ear to a monstrous size, so as in many instances to be large enough to admit the hand, the lower parts being stretched till they touch the shoulders. Their earrings are mostly of gold filigree, and fastened not with a clasp, but in the manner of a rivet or nut screwed to the inner part.
At around eight or nine years old, they pierce the ears and file the teeth of the girls, which are rituals that must take place before their marriage. They refer to the ear piercing as betende and the teeth filing as bedabong; these events are seen by the family as a reason to celebrate. Unlike some nearby islands, particularly Nias, they don’t stretch the ears to an extreme size, where in some cases they can be big enough to fit a hand through, with the lower parts stretched until they reach the shoulders. Their earrings are mostly made of gold filigree and are secured not with a clasp, but like a rivet or a nut that screws onto the inner part.
CHAPTER 3.
VILLAGES.
BUILDINGS.
DOMESTIC UTENSILS.
FOOD.
VILLAGES.
BUILDINGS.
KITCHEN UTENSILS.
FOOD.
I shall now attempt a description of the villages and buildings of the Sumatrans, and proceed to their domestic habits of economy, and those simple arts on which the procuring of their food and other necessaries depends. These are not among the least interesting objects of philosophical speculation. In proportion as the arts in use with any people are connected with the primary demands of nature, they carry the greater likelihood of originality, because those demands must have been administered to from a period coeval with the existence of the people themselves. Or if complete originality be regarded as a visionary idea, engendered from ignorance and the obscurity of remote events, such arts must be allowed to have the fairest claim to antiquity at least. Arts of accommodation, and more especially of luxury, are commonly the effect of imitation, and suggested by the improvements of other nations which have made greater advances towards civilisation. These afford less striking and characteristic features in delineating the picture of mankind, and, though they may add to the beauty, diminish from the genuineness of the piece. We must not look for unequivocal generic marks, where the breed, in order to mend it, has been crossed by a foreign mixture. All the arts of primary necessity are comprehended within two distinctions: those which protect us from the inclemency of the weather and other outward accidents; and those which are employed in securing the means of subsistence. Both are immediately essential to the continuance of life, and man is involuntarily and immediately prompted to exercise them by the urgent calls of nature, even in the merest possible state of savage and uncultivated existence. In climates like that of Sumatra this impulse extends not far. The human machine is kept going with small effort in so favourable a medium. The spring of importunate necessity there soon loses its force, and consequently the wheels of invention that depend upon it fail to perform more than a few simple revolutions. In regions less mild this original motive to industry and ingenuity carries men to greater lengths in the application of arts to the occasions of life; and these of course in an equal space of time attain to greater perfection than among the inhabitants of the tropical latitudes, who find their immediate wants supplied with facility, and prefer the negative pleasure of inaction to the enjoyment of any conveniences that are to be purchased with exertion and labour. This consideration may perhaps tend to reconcile the high antiquity universally allowed to Asiatic nations, with the limited progress of arts and sciences among them; in which they are manifestly surpassed by people who compared with them are but of very recent date.
I'm going to describe the villages and buildings of the Sumatrans and talk about their daily habits and the simple skills that help them get food and other essentials. These aspects are quite intriguing for philosophical reflection. The more that a community's practices relate to basic needs, the more likely they are to be original, as those needs have been addressed since the people began to exist. If we consider complete originality a far-fetched idea born from ignorance and the mystery of ancient events, then these skills certainly have a legitimate claim to being ancient. Skills related to daily needs and, especially, luxury often result from imitation and are inspired by the advancements of other nations that have progressed further in civilization. These practices provide less distinctive and characteristic traits in portraying humanity, and while they might enhance beauty, they can also detract from authenticity. We shouldn't expect clear and obvious traits when a group has mixed with outsiders in an effort to improve. All essential skills fall into two categories: those that protect us from bad weather and other external challenges, and those that help us secure food. Both are vital for survival, and people are driven to develop them by the immediate demands of nature, even in the most basic state of wild and untamed living. In climates like Sumatra's, this drive doesn't push people too far. The human body operates with minimal effort in such a favorable environment. The pressing need for action quickly diminishes there, and thus the creative efforts that stem from it only make small progress. In harsher regions, the original motivation for work and creativity drives people to explore their skills more deeply to meet life's challenges; naturally, this results in greater advancements in a similar period of time compared to those in tropical areas, where immediate needs are easily met, leading to a preference for the passive enjoyment of leisure over the satisfaction of laboring for other comforts. This viewpoint might help reconcile the ancient status often attributed to Asian civilizations with their limited development in arts and sciences, where they are clearly outpaced by groups who, in comparison, are much more recent.
The Sumatrans however in the construction of their habitations have stepped many degrees beyond those rude contrivances which writers describe the inhabitants of some other Indian countries to have been contented with adopting in order to screen themselves from the immediate influence of surrounding elements. Their houses are not only permanent but convenient, and are built in the vicinity of each other that they may enjoy the advantages of mutual assistance and protection resulting from a state of society.*
The Sumatrans, however, in building their homes, have gone far beyond the basic structures that writers say people in some other Indian countries were satisfied with using to shield themselves from the surrounding environment. Their houses are not just permanent but also practical, and they are situated close to one another so that they can benefit from the support and safety that comes from living in a community.
(*Footnote. In several of the small islands near Sumatra (including the Nicobars), whose inhabitants in general are in a very low state of civilisation, the houses are built circularly. Vid Asiatic Researches volume 4 page 129 plate.)
(*Footnote. On several small islands near Sumatra (including the Nicobars), where the residents are generally at a very low level of civilization, the houses are built in a circular shape. See Asiatic Researches volume 4 page 129 plate.)
VILLAGES.
TOWNS.
The dusuns or villages (for the small number of inhabitants assembled in each does not entitle them to the appellations of towns) are always situated on the banks of a river or lake for the convenience of bathing and of transporting goods. An eminence difficult of ascent is usually made choice of for security. The access to them is by footways, narrow and winding, of which there are seldom more than two; one to the country and the other to the water; the latter in most places so steep as to render it necessary to cut steps in the cliff or rock. The dusuns, being surrounded with abundance of fruit-trees, some of considerable height, as the durian, coco, and betel-nut, and the neighbouring country for a little space about being in some degree cleared of wood for the rice and pepper plantations, these villages strike the eye at a distance as clumps merely, exhibiting no appearance of a town or any place of habitation. The rows of houses form commonly a quadrangle, with passages or lanes at intervals between the buildings, where in the more considerable villages live the lower class of inhabitants, and where also their padi-houses or granaries are erected. In the middle of the square stands the balei or town hall, a room about fifty to a hundred feet long and twenty or thirty wide, without division, and open at the sides, excepting when on particular occasions it is hung with mats or chintz; but sheltered in a lateral direction by the deep overhanging roof.
The dusuns, or villages (since the few residents in each don’t qualify them as towns), are always located by the banks of a river or lake for easy access to bathing and transporting goods. They are usually built on high ground for security. The paths to these villages are narrow and winding, with rarely more than two: one leading to the countryside and the other to the water, which is often so steep that steps have to be cut into the cliff or rock. The dusuns are surrounded by plenty of fruit trees, including tall ones like durian, coconut, and betel nut. The nearby land is somewhat cleared for rice and pepper farms, making these villages look like clusters from a distance, without any signs of a town or habitation. Typically, the rows of houses form a quadrangle, with alleys or paths in between. In larger villages, this is where the lower-class residents live, along with their padi-houses or granaries. In the center of the square is the balei or town hall, a room about fifty to a hundred feet long and twenty or thirty feet wide, open on the sides except on special occasions when it is draped with mats or fabric, but sheltered from the side by a wide overhanging roof.
BUILDINGS.
Structures.
In their buildings neither stone, brick, nor clay, are ever made use of, which is the case in most countries where timber abounds, and where the warmth of the climate renders the free admission of air a matter rather to be desired than guarded against: but in Sumatra the frequency of earthquakes is alone sufficient to have prevented the natives from adopting a substantial mode of building. The frames of the houses are of wood, the underplate resting on pillars of about six or eight feet in height, which have a sort of capital but no base, and are wider at top than at bottom. The people appear to have no idea of architecture as a science, though much ingenuity is often shown in the manner of working up their materials, and they have, the Malays at least, technical terms corresponding to all those employed by our house carpenters. Their conception of proportions is extremely rude, often leaving those parts of a frame which have the greatest bearing with the weakest support, and lavishing strength upon inadequate pressure. For the floorings they lay whole bamboos (a well-known species of large cane) of four or five inches diameter, close to each other, and fasten them at the ends to the timbers. Across these are laid laths of split bamboo, about an inch wide and of the length of the room, which are tied down with filaments of the rattan; and over these are usually spread mats of different kinds. This sort of flooring has an elasticity alarming to strangers when they first tread on it. The sides of the houses are generally closed in with palupo, which is the bamboo opened and rendered flat by notching or splitting the circular joints on the outside, chipping away the corresponding divisions within, and laying it to dry in the sun, pressed down with weights. This is sometimes nailed onto the upright timbers or bamboos, but in the country parts it is more commonly interwoven, or matted, in breadths of six inches, and a piece, or sheet, formed at once of the size required. In some places they use for the same purpose the kulitkayu, or coolicoy, as it is pronounced by the Europeans, who employ it on board ship as dunnage in pepper and other cargoes. This is a bark procured from some particular trees, of which the bunut and ibu are the most common. When they prepare to take it the outer rind is first torn or cut away; the inner, which affords the material, is then marked out with a prang, pateel, or other tool, to the size required, which is usually three cubits by one; it is afterwards beaten for some time with a heavy stick to loosen it from the stem, and being peeled off is laid in the sun to dry, care being taken to prevent its warping. The thicker or thinner sorts of the same species of kulitkayu owe their difference to their being taken nearer to or farther from the root. That which is used in building has nearly the texture and hardness of wood. The pliable and delicate bark of which clothing is made is procured from a tree called kalawi, a bastard species of the bread-fruit.
In their buildings, they never use stone, brick, or clay, which is common in many countries with plenty of timber, where the warm climate makes the free flow of air more desirable than something to block. However, in Sumatra, the frequent earthquakes have kept the locals from building sturdier structures. The houses are framed with wood, and the base sits on pillars about six or eight feet tall, which have a sort of top but no bottom and are wider at the top than at the bottom. The people don't really have a grasp of architecture as a science, though they often show creativity in how they work with their materials, and the Malays at least have technical terms that correspond to those used by our carpenters. Their understanding of proportions is quite basic, often leaving the parts of a frame that need the most support with the weakest reinforcements, while putting too much strength where it isn’t needed. For flooring, they lay whole bamboo poles (a well-known type of large cane) about four or five inches in diameter, placed close together and fastened at the ends to the beams. On top of these, they lay split bamboo slats, about an inch wide and the length of the room, which are secured with rattan strips; over these, they typically spread various types of mats. This kind of flooring has a flexibility that can be unsettling to newcomers when they first step on it. The sides of the houses are usually covered with palupo, which is bamboo that’s been opened up and flattened by notching or splitting the round joints on the outside, chipping away the corresponding sections inside, and left to dry in the sun under weights. Sometimes it’s nailed to upright beams or bamboos, but in rural areas, it’s more commonly woven or matted in six-inch strips, forming a piece or sheet as large as needed. In some areas, they also use kulitkayu, or coolicoy as Europeans call it, which is used on ships as dunnage for pepper and other cargo. This is a bark obtained from specific trees, with the bunut and ibu being the most common. When harvesting it, the outer layer is either ripped or cut away; the inner layer, which provides the material, is then marked out with a prang, pateel, or other tool to the desired size, usually three cubits by one. It’s then beaten for a while with a heavy stick to loosen it from the stem, and once peeled off, it’s laid out in the sun to dry, taking care to prevent it from warping. The thinner or thicker varieties of the same type of kulitkayu differ depending on how close they are to the root. The part used for building has nearly the texture and hardness of wood. The soft and delicate bark used to make clothing comes from a tree called kalawi, a type of bastard breadfruit.
The most general mode of covering houses is with the atap, which is the leaf of a species of palm called nipah. These, previous to their being laid on, are formed into sheets of about five feet long and as deep as the length of the leaf will admit, which is doubled at one end over a slip or lath of bamboo; they are then disposed on the roof so as that one sheet shall lap over the other, and are tied to the bamboos which serve for rafters. There are various other and more durable kinds of covering used. The kulitkayu, before described, is sometimes employed for this purpose: the galumpei--this is a thatch of narrow split bamboos, six feet in length, placed in regular layers, each reaching within two feet of the extremity of that beneath it, by which a treble covering is formed: iju--this is a vegetable production so nearly resembling horse-hair as scarcely to be distinguished from it. It envelopes the stem of that species of palm called anau, from which the best toddy or palm wine is procured, and is employed by the natives for a great variety of purposes. It is bound on as a thatch in the manner we do straw, and not unfrequently over the galumpei; in which case the roof is so durable as never to require renewal, the iju being of all vegetable substances the least prone to decay, and for this reason it is a common practice to wrap a quantity of it round the ends of timbers or posts which are to be fixed in the ground. I saw a house about twenty miles up Manna River, belonging to Dupati Bandar Agung, the roof of which was of fifty years standing. The larger houses have three pitches in the roof; the middle one, under which the door is placed, being much lower than the other two. In smaller houses there are but two pitches, which are always of unequal height, and the entrance is in the smaller, which covers a kind of hall or cooking room.
The most common way to cover houses is with atap, which is made from the leaves of a type of palm called nipah. Before being laid down, these leaves are made into sheets about five feet long and as deep as the leaf allows, with one end folded over a bamboo stick. They are then placed on the roof so that one sheet overlaps the other and are tied to the bamboo rafters. There are other, more durable types of roofing used as well. The kulitkayu, mentioned earlier, is sometimes used for this purpose: galumpei is a thatch made from narrow split bamboo, six feet long, arranged in layers that overlap by about two feet, creating a triple covering. Iju is a plant material that closely resembles horsehair and comes from the stem of a palm called anau, which produces the best toddy or palm wine. The locals use it for various purposes and apply it as thatch similar to straw, often over galumpei, making the roof so durable that it rarely needs replacing, as iju is the least likely to decay among plant materials. Because of this, it's common to wrap some around the ends of timber or posts to be set into the ground. I saw a house about twenty miles up the Manna River owned by Dupati Bandar Agung, and its roof had been there for fifty years. Larger houses typically have three sections in the roof, with the middle one, where the door is located, being much lower than the other two. Smaller houses usually have just two sections that are always of uneven height, and the entrance is in the smaller section, which covers a kind of hall or kitchen.
There is another kind of house, erected mostly for a temporary purpose, the roof of which is flat and is covered in a very uncommon, simple, and ingenious manner. Large, straight bamboos are cut of a length sufficient to lie across the house, and, being split exactly in two and the joints knocked out, a first layer of them is disposed in close order, with the inner or hollow sides up; after which a second layer, with the outer or convex sides up, is placed upon the others in such manner that each of the convex falls into the two contiguous concave pieces, covering their edges; the latter serving as gutters to carry off the water that falls upon the upper or convex layer.*
There’s another type of house, built mostly for temporary use, with a flat roof that’s covered in a very unusual, simple, and clever way. Large, straight bamboo poles are cut to a length that allows them to stretch across the house, and after being split in half and the joints removed, the first layer is placed closely together, with the inner or hollow sides facing up. Then, a second layer, with the outer or rounded sides facing up, is placed on top in such a way that each rounded piece fits into the two adjacent hollow pieces, covering their edges; the hollow pieces act as gutters to carry away the water that falls on the upper or rounded layer.*
(*Footnote. I find that the original inhabitants of the Philippine Islands covered their buildings in the same manner.)
(*Footnote. I've noticed that the original inhabitants of the Philippine Islands decorated their buildings in a similar way.)
The mode of ascent to the houses is by a piece of timber or stout bamboo, cut in notches, which latter an European cannot avail himself of, especially as the precaution is seldom taken of binding them fast. These are the wonderful light scaling-ladders which the old Portuguese writers described to have been used by the people of Achin in their wars with their nation. It is probable that the apprehension of danger from the wild beasts caused them to adopt and continue this rude expedient, in preference to more regular and commodious steps. The detached buildings in the country, near to their plantations, called talangs, they raise to the height of ten or twelve feet from the ground, and make a practice of taking up their ladder at night to secure themselves from the destructive ravages of the tigers. I have been assured, but do not pledge myself for the truth of the story, that an elephant, attempting to pass under one of these houses, which stand on four or six posts, stuck by the way, but, disdaining to retreat, carried it, with the family it contained, on his back to a considerable distance.
The way to get to the houses is by using a piece of timber or strong bamboo that's cut with notches, which Europeans can rarely use, especially since they usually don’t secure them. These are the remarkable lightweight scaling ladders that the old Portuguese writers described as being used by the people of Achin in their conflicts with their nation. It's likely that the fear of wild animals led them to stick with this simple method instead of using more regular and comfortable steps. The separate buildings in the countryside, near their farms, called talangs, are built about ten to twelve feet above the ground, and they usually take up their ladder at night to protect themselves from destructive tigers. I've been told, though I can't guarantee the story's accuracy, that an elephant, trying to walk under one of these houses, which are supported by four or six posts, got stuck but, refusing to back down, carried the whole house, along with the family inside, for quite a distance.
In the buildings of the dusuns, particularly where the most respectable families reside, the woodwork in front is carved in the style of bas-relief, in a variety of uncouth ornaments and grotesque figures, not much unlike the Egyptian hieroglyphics, but certainly without any mystic or historical allusion.
In the houses of the dusuns, especially where the most respectable families live, the woodwork at the front is carved in a bas-relief style, featuring various rough ornaments and strange figures, somewhat similar to Egyptian hieroglyphics, but definitely without any mystical or historical meaning.
FURNITURE.
Furniture.
The furniture of their houses, corresponding with their manner of living, is very simple, and consists of but few articles. Their bed is a mat, usually of fine texture, and manufactured for the purpose, with a number of pillows, worked at the ends and adorned with a shining substance that resembles foil. A sort of canopy or valance, formed of various coloured cloths, hangs overhead. Instead of tables they have what resemble large wooden salvers, with feet called dulang, round each of which three or four persons dispose themselves; and on these are laid the talams or brass waiters which hold the cups that contain their curry, and plantain leaves or matted vessels filled with rice. Their mode of sitting is not cross-legged, as the inhabitants of Turkey and our tailors use, but either on the haunches or on the left side, supported by the left hand with the legs tucked in on the right side; leaving that hand at liberty which they always, from motives of delicacy, scrupulously eat with; the left being reserved for less cleanly offices. Neither knives, spoons, nor any substitutes for them are employed; they take up the rice and other victuals between the thumb and fingers, and dexterously throw it into the mouth by the action of the thumb, dipping frequently their hands in water as they eat.
The furniture in their homes, reflecting their lifestyle, is very simple and consists of only a few pieces. Their bed is a mat, typically made with fine materials specifically for this purpose, accompanied by several pillows that are beautifully worked at the ends and embellished with a shiny material similar to foil. A kind of canopy or valance made of various colored fabrics hangs above. Instead of tables, they use large wooden trays called dulang, around which three or four people sit; on these, they place brass trays, known as talams, which hold cups filled with curry, along with plantain leaves or woven containers filled with rice. They don't sit cross-legged like the inhabitants of Turkey or our tailors do, but rather on their haunches or on their left side, supported by their left hand, with their legs tucked in on the right side; this way, their right hand remains free, which they always use to eat for reasons of cleanliness, while the left hand is reserved for less hygienic tasks. They don't use knives, spoons, or any substitutes for these; instead, they pick up rice and other food with their thumb and fingers, skillfully tossing it into their mouths using their thumb, frequently dipping their hands in water as they eat.
UTENSILS.
Tools.
They have a little coarse chinaware, imported by the eastern praws, which is held a matter of luxury. In cooking they employ a kind of iron vessel well-known in India by the name of quallie or tauch, resembling in shape the pans used in some of our manufactures, having the rim wide and bottom narrow. These are likewise brought from the eastward. The priu and balanga, species of earthen pipkins, are in more common use, being made in small quantities in different parts of the island, particularly in Lampong, where they give them a sort of glazing; but the greater number of them are imported from Bantam. The original Sumatran vessel for boiling rice, and which is still much used for that purpose, is the bamboo, that material of general utility with which bountiful nature has supplied an indolent people. By the time the rice is dressed the utensil is nearly destroyed by the fire, but resists the flame so long as there is moisture within.
They have some rough chinaware, imported from the eastern coast, which is considered a luxury item. For cooking, they use a type of iron pot known in India as quallie or tauch, shaped like the pans made in some of our factories, with a wide rim and a narrow bottom. These are also imported from the east. The priu and balanga, types of earthen pots, are more commonly used, made in small quantities in various parts of the island, especially in Lampong, where they give them a sort of glaze; however, most of them are imported from Bantam. The original Sumatran pot for boiling rice, which is still widely used for that purpose, is the bamboo, a versatile material that nature has generously provided to a lazy people. By the time the rice is cooked, the pot is almost destroyed by the fire, but it withstands the flames as long as there's moisture inside.
FIRES.
FIRES.
Fire being wanted among these people but occasionally, and only when they cook their victuals, there is not much attention paid in their buildings to provide conveniences for it. Their houses have no chimneys, and their fireplaces are no more than a few loose bricks or stones, disposed in a temporary manner and frequently on the landing-place before the doors. The fuel made use of is wood alone, the coal which the island produces never being converted by the inhabitants to that purpose. The flint and steel for striking fire are common in the country, but it is a practice certainly borrowed from some other people, as that species of stone is not a native of the soil. These generally form part of their travelling apparatus, and especially with those men called risaus (spendthrifts that turn freebooters), who find themselves often obliged to take up their habitation in the woods or in deserted houses. But they also frequently kindle fire from the friction of two sticks.
Fire is only occasionally needed by these people, mainly for cooking, so not much is done in their homes to accommodate it. Their houses lack chimneys, and their fireplaces consist of just a few loose bricks or stones that are arranged haphazardly, often right outside their doors. They exclusively use wood as fuel, as the coal found on the island is never used by the locals. Flint and steel for making fire are common in the area, but this practice is likely adopted from others, since that type of stone isn't native to the land. These items are often part of their travel gear, especially for those known as risaus (spendthrifts who become raiders), who frequently find themselves needing to set up camp in the woods or in abandoned buildings. They also often start fires by rubbing two sticks together.
MODE OF KINDLING THEM.
WAY OF LIGHTING THEM.
They choose a piece of dry, porous wood, and cutting smooth a spot of it lay it in a horizontal direction. They then apply a smaller piece, of a harder substance, with a blunt point, in a perpendicular position, and turn it quickly round, between the two hands, as chocolate is milled, pressing it downwards at the same time. A hole is soon formed by this motion of the smaller stick; but it has not penetrated far before the larger one takes fire. I have also seen the same effect produced more simply by rubbing one bit of bamboo with a sharp edge across another.*
They pick a piece of dry, porous wood and smooth out a spot on it, laying it flat. Then, they take a smaller, harder piece with a blunt tip and hold it upright, turning it quickly between their hands like grinding chocolate while pressing it down. Before long, a hole is formed by the smaller stick's motion, but it doesn't go deep before the larger piece catches fire. I've also seen a similar effect achieved more easily by rubbing one piece of bamboo with a sharp edge against another.
(*Footnote. This mode of kindling fire is not peculiar to Sumatra: we read of the same practice in Africa and even in Kamtschatka. It is surprising, but confirmed by abundant authority, that many nations of the earth have at certain periods, been ignorant of the use of fire. To our immediate apprehension human existence would seem in such circumstances impossible. Every art, every convenience, every necessary of life, is now in the most intimate manner connected with it: and yet the Chinese, the Egyptians, the Phoenicians, and Greeks acknowledged traditions concerning its first discovery in their respective countries. But in fact if we can once suppose a man, or society of men, unacquainted with the being and uses of this element, I see no difficulty in conceiving the possibility of their supporting life without it; I mean in the tropical climates; and of centuries passing before they should arrive at the important discovery. It is true that lightning and its effects, volcanoes, the firing of dry substances by fortuitous attrition, or of moist, by fermentation, might give them an idea of its violent and destructive properties; but far from being thence induced to appropriate and apply it they would, on the contrary, dread and avoid it, even in its less formidable appearances. They might be led to worship it as their deity, but not to cherish it as their domestic. There is some reason to conclude that the man who first reduced it to subjection and rendered it subservient to the purposes of life procured it from the collision of two flints; but the sparks thus produced, whether by accident or design, might be observed innumerable times without its suggesting a beneficial application. In countries where those did not present themselves the discovery had, most probably, its origin in the rubbing together of dry sticks, and in this operation, the agent and subject coexisting, flame, with its properties and uses, became more immediately apparent. Still, as no previous idea was conceived of this latent principle, and consequently no search made, no endeavours exerted, to bring it to light, I see not the impossibility a priori of its remaining almost as long concealed from mankind as the properties of the loadstone or the qualities of gunpowder.)
(*Footnote. This method of starting a fire isn’t unique to Sumatra; similar practices are recorded in Africa and even in Kamchatka. It's surprising, but well-documented, that many cultures around the world have been unaware of how to use fire at certain times. From our perspective, it seems impossible for humans to exist without it. Every skill, every convenience, every essential aspect of life is closely tied to fire. Yet, the Chinese, Egyptians, Phoenicians, and Greeks have legends about the first discovery of fire in their regions. If we can imagine a person or a group of people who don't know about fire and its uses, I can understand how they might survive without it, particularly in tropical climates, and that it could take centuries for them to make that crucial discovery. It’s true that lightning and its aftermath, volcanoes, or the accidental ignition of dry materials could give them a glimpse of the dangerous and destructive power of fire. However, rather than trying to harness it, they would likely fear and avoid it, even in its less threatening forms. They might worship it as a deity, but wouldn’t bring it into their homes. There’s some reason to believe that the first person to control fire did so by striking two flints together; however, the resulting sparks could be seen countless times without anyone thinking to use them beneficially. In places where such flints weren’t available, fire likely originated from rubbing dry sticks together, making its properties and uses more obvious during that process. However, since there was no prior understanding of this hidden principle, no one would have sought it out or tried to uncover it. Therefore, I don’t see why it wouldn’t remain hidden from humanity for as long as the properties of magnetite or gunpowder did.)
Water is conveyed from the spring in bamboos, which for this purpose are cut, either to the length of five or six feet and carried over the shoulder, or into a number of single joints that are put together in a basket. It is drunk out of the fruit called labu here, resembling the calabash of the West Indies, a hole being made in the side of the neck and another at top for vent. In drinking they generally hold the vessel at a distance above their mouths and catch the stream as it falls; the liquid descending to the stomach without the action of swallowing. Baskets (bronong, bakul) are a considerable part of the furniture of a man's house, and the number of these seen hanging up are tokens of the owner's substance; for in them his harvests of rice or pepper are gathered and brought home; no carts being employed in the interior parts of the island which I am now describing. They are made of slips of bamboo connected by means of split rattans; and are carried chiefly by the women, on the back, supported by a string or band across the forehead.
Water is carried from the spring in bamboo tubes, which are cut to about five or six feet long and can be carried over the shoulder, or into several single sections that are assembled in a basket. People drink from a fruit called labu here, which looks like a calabash from the West Indies; a hole is made in the side of the neck and another at the top for ventilation. When drinking, they typically hold the vessel above their mouths and catch the flowing stream as it falls, allowing the liquid to go down without swallowing. Baskets (bronong, bakul) are an important part of a man's household items, and the number of baskets hanging up indicates the owner's wealth; they are used to collect and bring home harvests of rice or pepper, as no carts are used in the interior of the island being described. These baskets are made from strips of bamboo tied together with split rattans, and they are mostly carried by women on their backs, supported by a string or band across the forehead.
FOOD.
Food.
Although the Sumatrans live in a great measure upon vegetable food they are not restrained by any superstitious opinion from other aliments, and accordingly at their entertainments the flesh of the buffalo (karbau), goat, and fowls, are served up. Their dishes are almost all prepared in that mode of dressing to which we have given the name of curry (from a Hindostanic word), and which is now universally known in Europe. It is called in the Malay language gulei, and may be composed of any kind of edible, but is generally of flesh or fowl, with a variety of pulse and succulent herbage, stewed down with certain ingredients, by us termed, when mixed and ground together, curry powder. These ingredients are, among others, the cayenne or chili-pepper, turmeric, sarei or lemon-grass, cardamums, garlick, and the pulp of the coconut bruised to a milk resembling that of almonds, which is the only liquid made use of. This differs from the curries of Madras and Bengal, which have greater variety of spices, and want the coconut. It is not a little remarkable that the common pepper, the chief produce and staple commodity of the country, is never mixed by the natives in their food. They esteem it heating to the blood, and ascribe a contrary effect to the cayenne; which I can say, my own experience justifies. A great diversity of curries is usually served up at the same time, in small vessels, each flavoured to a nice discerning taste in a different manner; and in this consists all the luxury of their tables. Let their quantity or variety or meat be what it may, the principle article of their food is rice, which is eaten in a large proportion with every dish, and very frequently without any other accompaniment than salt and chili-pepper. It is prepared by boiling in a manner peculiar to India; its perfection, next to cleanness and whiteness, consisting in its being, when thoroughly dressed and soft to the heart, at the same time whole and separate, so that no two grains shall adhere together. The manner of effecting this is by putting into the earthen or other vessel in which it is boiled a quantity of water sufficient to cover it, letting it simmer over a slow fire, taking off the water by degrees with a flat ladle or spoon that the grain may dry, and removing it when just short of burning. At their entertainments the guests are treated with rice prepared also in a variety of modes, by frying it in cakes or boiling a particular species of it mixed with the kernel of the coconut and fresh oil, in small joints of bamboo. This is called lemmang. Before it is served up they cut off the outer rind of the bamboo and the soft inner coat is peeled away by the person who eats.
Although the Sumatrans mainly eat vegetables, they don't hold any superstitions that stop them from enjoying other foods, so at their gatherings, they serve buffalo (karbau), goat, and chicken. Most of their dishes are made in a style we call curry (from a Hindi word), which is now widely recognized in Europe. In Malay, it's called gulei and can be made with any kind of food, but it's typically meat or chicken, combined with various pulses and fresh herbs, stewed with certain ingredients we refer to as curry powder. These ingredients include cayenne or chili pepper, turmeric, lemon grass, cardamom, garlic, and crushed coconut pulp, which creates a milk-like consistency similar to almond milk, and it's the only liquid they use. This differs from the curries of Madras and Bengal, which have a wider variety of spices and don’t include coconut. It's interesting that common black pepper, a major product and staple of the region, is never used in their cooking. They believe it heats the blood, whereas they think cayenne has the opposite effect, which I can confirm from my own experience. A wide assortment of curries is usually served at the same time in small bowls, each uniquely flavored; this is where their culinary luxury lies. Regardless of how much meat they have, the main part of their meal is rice, which is served in large portions with every dish and often just with salt and chili pepper. It's prepared by boiling it in a distinct Indian way; for perfect rice, it needs to be clean and white, cooked until it's soft yet each grain remains separate and doesn’t stick together. This is achieved by putting enough water in the pot to cover the rice, allowing it to simmer on a low flame, gradually removing the water with a flat ladle or spoon so the grains can dry, and taking it off the heat just before it burns. At their gatherings, guests are served rice prepared in various ways, such as frying it into cakes or boiling a specific type mixed with coconut kernel and fresh oil in small bamboo tubes. This dish is called lemmang. Before serving, they cut off the outer bamboo layer, and the soft inner coating is peeled away by the person eating it.
FLESH-MEAT.
Flesh meat.
They dress their meat immediately after killing it, while it is still warm, which is conformable with the practice of the ancients as recorded in Homer and elsewhere, and in this state it is said to eat tenderer than when kept for a day: longer the climate will not admit of, unless when it is preserved in that mode called dinding. This is the flesh of the buffalo cut into small thin steaks and exposed to the heat of the sun in fair weather, generally on the thatch of their houses, till it is become so dry and hard as to resist putrefaction without any assistance from salt. Fish is preserved in the same manner, and cargoes of both are sent from parts of the coast where they are in plenty to those where provisions are in more demand. It is seemingly strange that heat, which in a certain degree promotes putrefaction, should when violently increased operate to prevent it; but it must be considered that moisture also is requisite to the former effect, and this is absorbed in thin substances by the sun's rays before it can contribute to the production of maggots.
They dress their meat right after killing it, while it's still warm, which aligns with the practices of the ancients as mentioned in Homer and elsewhere. It's said to be more tender than when it's kept for a day; the climate won't allow for longer storage, unless it's preserved using a method called dinding. This involves cutting buffalo meat into small, thin steaks and exposing them to the sun's heat in good weather, typically on the roofs of their houses, until they become so dry and hard that they resist rotting without needing salt. Fish is preserved the same way, and shipments of both are sent from areas where they are abundant to those where food is scarcer. It might seem strange that heat, which can promote decay to some extent, can also prevent it when increased significantly. However, it should be noted that moisture is also necessary for decay, and the sun's rays absorb moisture from thin substances before it can lead to the growth of maggots.
Blachang, a preservation, if it may be so termed, of an opposite kind, is esteemed a great delicacy among the Malays, and is by them exported to the west of India. The country Sumatrans seldom procure it. It is a species of caviar, and is extremely offensive and disgusting to persons who are not accustomed to it, particularly the black kind, which is the most common. The best sort, or the red blachang, is made of the spawn of shrimps, or of the shrimps themselves, which they take about the mouths of rivers. They are, after boiling, exposed to the sun to dry, then pounded in a mortar with salt, moistened with a little water and formed into cakes, which is all the process. The black sort, used by the lower class, is made of small fish, prepared in the same manner. On some parts of the east coast of the island they salt the roes of a large fish of the shad kind, and preserve them perfectly dry and well flavoured. These are called trobo.
Blachang, a type of preservation that can be described as opposite, is considered a delicacy among the Malays and is exported to western India. The people of Sumatra rarely get it. It's a kind of caviar and is very off-putting to those not used to it, especially the black variety, which is the most common. The best kind, or red blachang, is made from shrimp spawn or the shrimps themselves, which they catch near river mouths. After boiling, they are dried in the sun, then pounded in a mortar with salt, mixed with a little water, and formed into cakes; that's the entire process. The black variety, which is consumed by the lower class, is made from small fish prepared in the same way. In some areas on the eastern coast of the island, they salt the roe of a large shad-type fish and preserve it completely dry and well-flavored. These are called trobo.
When the natives kill a buffalo, which is always done at their public meetings, they do not cut it up into joints as we do an ox, but into small pieces of flesh, or steaks, which they call bantei. The hide of the buffalo is sometimes scalded, scraped, and hung up to dry in their houses where it shrivels and becomes perfectly hard. When wanted for use a piece is chopped off and, being stewed down for a great number of hours in a small quantity of water, forms a rich jelly which, properly seasoned, is esteemed a very delicate dish.
When the locals kill a buffalo, which always happens at their community gatherings, they don’t cut it into large sections like we do with an ox, but instead into small pieces of meat or steaks, which they call bantei. The buffalo hide is sometimes boiled, scraped, and hung up to dry in their homes, where it shrinks and becomes really tough. When it’s needed, a piece is chopped off and, after being simmered for many hours in a small amount of water, turns into a rich jelly that, when properly seasoned, is considered a very fine dish.
The sago (sagu), though common on Sumatra and used occasionally by the natives, is not an article of food of such general use among them as with the inhabitants of many other eastern islands, where it is employed as a substitute for rice. Millet (randa jawa) is also cultivated for food, but not in any considerable quantity.
The sago (sagu), while common on Sumatra and occasionally used by the locals, isn’t as widely consumed by them as it is by people in many other eastern islands, where it serves as a substitute for rice. Millet (randa jawa) is also grown for food, but not in significant amounts.
When these several articles of subsistence fail the Sumatran has recourse to those wild roots, herbs, and leaves of trees which the woods abundantly afford in every season without culture, and which the habitual simplicity of his diet teaches him to consider as no very extraordinary circumstance of hardship. Hence it is that famines in this island or, more properly speaking, failures of crops of grain, are never attended with those dreadful consequences which more improved countries and more provident nations experience.
When these various food sources run out, the Sumatran turns to the wild roots, herbs, and leaves from trees that the forests provide plentifully throughout the year without cultivation. His usual simple diet helps him view this as just a regular part of life, rather than a serious hardship. As a result, famines on this island, or more accurately, crop failures, don’t lead to the terrible outcomes that more developed countries and more prepared societies face.
CHAPTER 4.
AGRICULTURE.
RICE, ITS CULTIVATION, ETC.
PLANTATIONS OF COCONUT, BETEL-NUT, AND OTHER VEGETABLES FOR DOMESTIC USE.
DYE STUFFS.
AGRICULTURE.
RICE, ITS CULTIVATION, ETC.
FARMS OF COCONUT, BETEL-NUT, AND OTHER VEGETABLES FOR HOME USE.
DYEING MATERIALS.
AGRICULTURE.
Farming.
From their domestic economy I am led to take a view of their labours in the field, their plantations and the state of agriculture amongst them, which an ingenious writer esteems the justest criterion of civilisation.
From their home economy, I’m prompted to look at their work in the fields, their farms, and the state of agriculture among them, which a clever writer considers the most accurate measure of civilization.
RICE.
RICE.
The most important article of cultivation, not in Sumatra alone but throughout the East, is rice. It is the grand material of food on which a hundred millions of the inhabitants of the earth subsist, and although chiefly confined by nature to the regions included between and bordering on the tropics, its cultivation is probably more extensive than that of wheat, which the Europeans are wont to consider as the universal staff of life. In the continent of Asia, as you advance to the northward, you come to the boundary where the plantations of rice disappear and the wheatfields commence; the cold felt in that climate, owing in part to the height of the land, being unfriendly to the production of the former article.
The most important crop for farming, not just in Sumatra but across the East, is rice. It’s the main food source for hundreds of millions of people around the world. While it mostly grows in tropical regions, its cultivation is likely more widespread than that of wheat, which Europeans often view as the global staple. In Asia, as you move north, you reach the point where rice fields give way to wheat fields; the colder climate, partly due to higher elevations, doesn't support the growth of rice.
Rice (Oryza sativa) whilst in the husk is called padi by the Malays (from whose language the word seems to have found its way to the maritime parts of the continent of India), bras when deprived of the husk, and nasi after it has been boiled; besides which it assumes other names in its various states of growth and preparation. This minuteness of distinction applies also to some other articles of common use, and may be accounted for upon this principle: that amongst people whose general objects of attention are limited, those which do of necessity occupy them are liable to be more the subject of thought and conversation than in more enlightened countries where the ideas of men have an extensive range. The kinds of rice also (whether technically of different species I cannot pronounce) are very numerous, but divided in the first place into the two comprehensive classes of padi ladang or upland, from its growing in high, dry grounds, and padi sawah (vulgarly pronounced sawur or sour) or lowland, from its being planted in marshes; each of which is said to contain ten or fifteen varieties, distinct in shape, size, and colour of the grain, modes of growth, and delicacy of flavour; it being observed that in general the larger-grained rice is not so much prized by the natives as that which is small, when at the same time white and in some degree transparent.* To M. Poivre, in his Travels of a Philosopher, we are indebted for first pointing out these two classes when speaking of the agriculture of Cochin-China. The qualities of the ladang, or upland rice, are held to be superior to those of the sawah, being whiter, more nourishing, better tasted and having the advantage in point of keeping. Its mode of culture too is free from the charge of unhealthiness attributed to the latter, which is of a watery substance, is attended with less increase in boiling, and is subject to a swifter decay; but of this the rate of produce from the seed is much greater, and the certainty of the crops more to be depended on. It is accordingly cheaper and in more common use. The seed of each sort is kept separate by the natives, who assert that they will not grow reciprocally.
Rice (Oryza sativa) is known as padi while still in the husk, a term that originated from the Malays and has made its way to the coastal regions of India. Once the husk is removed, it's called bras, and after cooking, it's referred to as nasi. It also has different names at various stages of growth and preparation. This level of distinction also applies to some other everyday items and can be explained by the fact that among people with limited subjects of interest, those that capture their attention tend to be more frequently discussed than in more advanced societies where people's thoughts cover a broader range. There are also many types of rice (whether they are technically different species, I can't say), which are mainly classified into two broad categories: padi ladang or upland, which grows in high, dry areas, and padi sawah (commonly pronounced sawur or sour) or lowland, which is grown in marshy lands. Each category is said to include ten to fifteen varieties that differ in grain shape, size, and color, growing methods, and flavor delicacy. Generally, larger-grained rice is not as favored by locals as smaller grains that are white and somewhat transparent. We owe the initial classification of these two types to M. Poivre in his Travels of a Philosopher, where he discusses Cochin-China's agriculture. The qualities of ladang or upland rice are considered superior to those of sawah, as it is whiter, more nutritious, tastier, and better at storage. Its cultivation is also perceived to be healthier than that of sawah rice, which has a watery consistency, expands less when cooked, and decays more quickly; however, the yield from sawah rice is significantly higher, and its crop reliability is more assured. Consequently, it is cheaper and more commonly used. The locals keep the seeds of each type separate, claiming they won't grow if mixed.
(*Footnote. The following sorts of dry-ground padi have come under my notice but as the names vary in different districts it is possible that some of these may be repetitions, where there is no striking difference of character:Padi Ebbas, large grain, very common;
Andalong, short round grain, grows in whorls or bunches round the stalk, common;
Galu, light-coloured, scarce;
Sini, small grain, deep coloured, scarce;
Iju, light ish colour, scarce;
Kuning, deep yellow, crooked and pointed, fine rice;
Kukur-ballum, small, much crooked and resembling a dove's claw, from whence the name; light-coloured, highly esteemed for its delicate flavour;
Pisang, outer coat light brown, inner red, longer, smaller, and less crooked than the preceding;
Bringin, long, flattish, ribbed, pointed, dead yellow;
Bujut, shaped like the preceding, but with a tinge of red in the colour;
Chariap, short, roundish, reddish yellow;
Janggut or bearded, small, narrow, pale brown;
Jambi, small, somewhat crooked and pointed, light brown;
Laye, gibbous, light-coloured;
Musang, long, small, crooked and pointed, deep purple;
Pandan, small, light-coloured;
Pau, long, crooked and pointed, light yellow;
Puyuh, small, delicate, crooked and pointed, bright ochre;
Rakkun, roundish grain, resembles the andalong, but larger and deeper colour;
Sihong, much resembles the laye in shape and colour;
Sutar, short, roundish, bright, reddish brown;
Pulut gading or ivory, long, nearly straight, light yellow;
Pulut kechil, small, crooked, reddish yellow;
Pulut bram, long and rather large grain, purple, when fresh more nearly red;
Pulut bram lematong, in shape like the preceding, but of a dead pale colour.
Beside these four there is also a black kind of pulut.
Samples of most of these have been in my possession for a number of years, and still continue perfectly sound. Of the sorts of rice growing in low grounds I have not specimens. The padi santong, which is small, straight, and light-coloured, is held to be the finest. In the Lampong country they make a distinction of padi krawang and padi jerru, of which I know nothing more than that the former is a month earlier in growth than the latter.)
(*Footnote. I’ve noticed the following types of dry-ground padi, but since names can differ in various regions, some of these might be repeats where there’s no significant difference in character:Padi Ebbas, large grains, very common;
Andalong, short round grains that grow in clusters around the stalk, common;
Galu, light-colored, rare;
Sini, small grains, deep-colored, rare;
Iju, lightish color, rare;
Kuning, deep yellow, crooked and pointed, fine rice;
Kukur-ballum, small, very crooked, resembling a dove's claw, hence the name; light-colored, highly valued for its delicate flavor;
Pisang, light brown outer coat and red inside, longer, smaller, and less crooked than the previous one;
Bringin, long, flat, ribbed, pointed, dead yellow;
Bujut, similar to the previous but with a hint of red;
Chariap, short, roundish, reddish yellow;
Janggut or bearded, small, narrow, pale brown;
Jambi, small, somewhat crooked and pointed, light brown;
Laye, bulging, light-colored;
Musang, long, small, crooked and pointed, deep purple;
Pandan, small, light-colored;
Pau, long, crooked and pointed, light yellow;
Puyuh, small, delicate, crooked and pointed, bright ochre;
Rakkun, roundish grain resembling the Andalong, but larger and deeper in color;
Sihong, very similar in shape and color to the Laye;
Sutar, short, roundish, bright reddish brown;
Pulut gading or ivory, long, nearly straight, light yellow;
Pulut kechil, small, crooked, reddish yellow;
Pulut bram, long and fairly large grain, purple, appearing more red when fresh;
Pulut bram lematong, shaped like the previous, but with a dead pale color.
In addition to these four, there is also a black type of pulut.
I’ve kept samples of most of these for several years, and they’re still in perfect condition. I don’t have samples of the rice types that grow in lowlands. The padi santong, which is small, straight, and light-colored, is considered the best. In the Lampong area, they distinguish between padi krawang and padi jerru, but I know nothing more than that the former matures a month earlier than the latter.)
UPLAND RICE.
Upland rice.
For the cultivation of upland padi the site of woods is universally preferred, and the more ancient the woods the better, on account of the superior richness of the soil; the continual fall and rotting of the leaves forming there a bed of vegetable mould, which the open plains do not afford, being exhausted by the powerful operation of the sun's rays and the constant production of a rank grass called lalang. When this grass, common to all the eastern islands, is kept under by frequent mowing or the grazing of cattle (as is the case near the European settlements) its room is supplied by grass of a finer texture. Many suppose that the same identical species of vegetable undergoes this alteration, as no fresh seeds are sown and the substitution uniformly takes place. But this is an evident mistake as the generic characters of the two are essentially different; the one being the Gramen caricosum and the other the Gramen aciculatum described by Rumphius. The former, which grows to the height of five feet, is remarkable for the whiteness and softness of the down or blossom, and the other for the sharpness of its bearded seeds, which prove extremely troublesome to the legs of those who walk among it.*
For growing upland rice, sites with forests are preferred, and older forests are even better due to the richer soil. The continuous falling and decaying of leaves creates a layer of organic matter that open plains lack, as they're depleted by intense sunlight and the constant growth of a coarse grass called lalang. When this grass, common across all the eastern islands, is controlled through regular mowing or grazing by cattle (as happens near European settlements), it is replaced by finer grass. Many people think that the same type of plant changes, since no new seeds are sown and the replacement happens consistently. However, this is a clear mistake, as the two types are fundamentally different; one is Gramen caricosum and the other is Gramen aciculatum described by Rumphius. The former, which can grow up to five feet tall, is notable for its white and soft flowers, while the latter is recognized for its sharp seed heads, which can be very irritating to the legs of those who walk through it.*
(*Footnote. Gramen hoc (caricosum) totos occupat campos, nudosque colles tam dense et laete germinans, ut e longinquo haberetur campus oryza consitus, tam luxuriose ac fortiter crescit, ut neque hortos neque sylvas evitet, atque tam vehementer prorepit, ut areae vix depurari ac servari possint, licet quotidie deambulentur...Potissimum amat solum flavum arguillosum. (Gramen aciculatum) Usus ejus fere nullus est, sed hic detegendum est taediosum ludibrium, quod quis habet, si quis per campos vel in sylvis procedat, ubi hoc gramen ad vias publicas crescit, quum praetereuntium vestibus, hoc semen quam maxime inhaeret. Rumphius volume 6 book 10 chapters 8 and 13. M. Poivre describes the plains of Madagascar and Java as covered with a long grass which he calls fatak, and which, from the analogy of the countries in other respects, I should suppose to be the lalang; but he praises it as affording excellent pasturage; whereas in Sumatra it is reckoned the worst, and except when very young it is not edible by the largest cattle; for which reason the carters and drovers are in the practice of setting fire to that which grows on the plains by the roadside, that the young shoots which thereupon shoot up, may afterwards supply food to their buffaloes.)
(*Footnote. This grass (caricosum) completely covers the fields, and grows so densely and vibrantly on bare hills that from a distance, it looks like a rice field, flourishing robustly and luxuriously. It neither avoids gardens nor forests and spreads so vigorously that open areas can barely be cleared and maintained, even with daily foot traffic... It especially favors yellow, clayey soil. (Aciculatum grass) has almost no use, but it reveals a tedious nuisance that people may encounter if they walk through fields or forests where this grass grows along public paths, as it clings stubbornly to passing clothes. Rumphius volume 6 book 10 chapters 8 and 13. M. Poivre describes the plains of Madagascar and Java as being covered with a long grass he calls fatak, which, given other similarities between the countries, I would assume is lalang; however, he praises it for providing excellent grazing. In contrast, in Sumatra it’s considered the worst, and unless it's very young, it's not edible for large cattle. Because of this, cart drivers and herders often set fire to what grows on the plains by the roadside, so that the young shoots that emerge afterward can later provide food for their buffaloes.)
If old woods are not at hand ground covered with that of younger growth, termed balukar, is resorted to; but not, if possible, under the age of four or five years. Vegetation is there so strong that spots which had been perfectly cleared for cultivation will, upon being neglected for a single season, afford shelter to the beasts of the forest; and the same being rarely occupied for two successive years, the face of the country continues to exhibit the same wild appearance, although very extensive tracts are annually covered with fresh plantations. From this it will be seen that, in consequence of the fertility to which it gives occasion, the abundance of wood in the country is not considered by the inhabitants as an inconvenience but the contrary. Indeed I have heard a native prince complain of a settlement made by some persons of a distant tribe in the inland part of his dominions, whom he should be obliged to expel from thence in order to prevent the waste of his old woods. This seemed a superfluous act of precaution in an island which strikes the eye as one general, impervious, and inexhaustible forest.
If old forests aren’t available, people turn to land covered with younger growth, called balukar, but they try not to use anything younger than four or five years. The vegetation is so dense that areas that were completely cleared for farming can, after just one season of neglect, provide shelter for wild animals. Since the same land is rarely used for two years in a row, the landscape keeps a wild look, even though large areas are replanted every year. This shows that, due to the fertility it promotes, the abundance of wood in the country is seen as a blessing rather than a problem by the locals. In fact, I once heard a local prince express frustration about a settlement made by people from a distant tribe in the inland part of his territory. He felt he had to remove them to prevent the destruction of his old forests. This seemed like an unnecessary measure in an island that appears to be one vast, impenetrable, and endless forest.
MODE OF CLEARING THE GROUND.
Method of clearing the ground.
On the approach of the dry monsoon (April and May) or in the course of it, the husbandman makes choice of a spot for his ladang, or plantation of upland rice, for that season, and marks it out. Here it must be observed that property in land depends upon occupancy, unless where fruit-bearing trees have been planted, and, as there is seldom any determined boundary between the lands of neighbouring villages, such marks are rarely disturbed. Collecting his family and dependents, he next proceeds to clear the ground. This is an undertaking of immense labour, and would seem to require herculean force, but it is effected by skill and perseverance. The work divides itself into two parts. The first (called tebbas, menebbas) consists in cutting down the brushwood and rank vegetables, which are suffered to dry during an interval of a fortnight, or more or less, according to the fairness of the weather, before they proceed to the second operation (called tebbang, menebbang) of felling the large trees. Their tools, the prang and billiong (the former resembling a bill-hook, and the latter an imperfect adze) are seemingly inadequate to the task, and the saw is unknown in the country. Being regardless of the timber they do not fell the tree near the ground, where the stem is thick, but erect a stage and begin to hew, or chop rather, at the height of ten or twelve, to twenty or thirty feet, where the dimensions are smaller (and sometimes much higher, taking off little more than the head) until it is sufficiently weakened to admit of their pulling it down with rattans made fast to the branches instead of ropes.* And thus by slow degrees the whole is laid low.
As the dry monsoon approaches in April and May, the farmer selects a spot for his upland rice plantation for the season and marks it out. It's important to note that land ownership is determined by occupancy, unless fruit-bearing trees are planted, and since there are rarely defined boundaries between the lands of neighboring villages, these markings are usually not disturbed. Gathering his family and helpers, he then begins to clear the land. This is a massively labor-intensive task that seems to require immense strength, but it's accomplished through skill and perseverance. The work is divided into two main parts. The first part (called tebbas, menebbas) involves cutting down the underbrush and dense foliage, which is left to dry for about two weeks, more or less depending on the weather, before moving on to the second phase (called tebbang, menebbang) of cutting down the large trees. Their tools, the prang and billiong (the former looks like a billhook, while the latter is a basic adze), seem inadequate for the job, and saws are not used in the area. Ignoring the timber, they don’t cut the tree close to the ground where the trunk is thick; instead, they build a platform and start chopping at a height of ten to twelve, or even twenty to thirty feet, where the trunk is thinner (sometimes much higher, taking off just the top) until it is weak enough to be pulled down with rattan tied to the branches instead of ropes.* And so, gradually, the entire area is brought down.
(*Footnote. A similar mode of felling is described in the Maison rustique de Cayenne.)
(*Footnote. A similar method of cutting is mentioned in the Maison rustique de Cayenne.)
In some places however a more summary process is attempted. It may be conceived that in the woods the cutting down trees singly is a matter of much difficulty on account of the twining plants which spread from one to the other and connect them strongly together. To surmount this it is not an uncommon practice to cut a number of trees half through, on the same side, and then fix upon one of great bulk at the extremity of the space marked out, which they cut nearly through, and, having disengaged it from these lianas (as they are termed in the western world) determine its fall in such a direction as may produce the effect of its bearing down by its prodigious weight all those trees which had been previously weakened for the purpose. By this much time and labour are saved, and, the object being to destroy and not to save the timber, the rending or otherwise spoiling the stems is of no moment. I could never behold this devastation without a strong sentiment of regret. Perhaps the prejudices of a classical education taught me to respect those aged trees as the habitation or material frame of an order of sylvan deities, who were now deprived of existence by the sacrilegious hand of a rude, undistinguishing savage. But without having recourse to superstition it is not difficult to account for such feelings on the sight of a venerable wood, old, to appearance, as the soil it stood on, and beautiful beyond what pencil can describe, annihilated for the temporary use of the space it occupied. It seemed a violation of nature in the too arbitrary exercise of power. The timber, from its abundance, the smallness of consumption, and its distance in most cases from the banks of navigable rivers, by which means alone it could be transported to any distance, is of no value; and trees whose bulk, height, straightness of stem, and extent of limbs excite the admiration of a traveller, perish indiscriminately. Some of the branches are lopped off, and when these, together with the underwood, are become sufficiently arid, they are set fire to, and the country, for the space of a month or two, is in a general blaze and smoke, until the whole is consumed and the ground effectually cleared. The expiring wood, beneficent to its ungrateful destroyer, fertilises for his use by its ashes and their salts the earth which it so long adorned.
In some places, however, a quicker method is attempted. It can be understood that in the woods, cutting down trees one by one is quite challenging due to the intertwining plants that connect them strongly. To get around this, it’s common to saw through several trees halfway on the same side and then pick a large tree at the end of the marked area, which is cut almost completely through. After separating it from those vines (as they are called in the western world), they aim its fall in such a way that its massive weight brings down all the trees that were previously weakened for this purpose. This saves a lot of time and effort, and since the goal is to destroy rather than save the timber, damaging the trunks doesn’t matter. I could never watch this destruction without feeling deep regret. Maybe the biases of my classical education made me respect those ancient trees as the home or physical body of a kind of forest spirits, who were now lost to the uncaring hands of a rough, indiscriminate savage. But without resorting to superstition, it’s easy to understand such feelings when seeing a venerable forest, as old as the soil it grows on and more beautiful than any painting can capture, being wiped out for temporary use of the land it occupied. It felt like a violation of nature through the overly forceful use of power. The timber, given its abundance, the low demand for it, and its often great distance from navigable rivers—which are the only means to transport it—has little value; and trees admired by travelers for their size, height, straight trunks, and wide branches are destroyed without care. Some branches are trimmed off, and when these, along with the underbrush, become dry enough, they are set on fire, causing the area to be engulfed in flames and smoke for a month or two until everything is burned and the ground is thoroughly cleared. The dying wood, generously providing for its ungrateful destroyer, enriches the soil that it adorned for so long with its ashes and their nutrients.
Unseasonable wet weather at this period, which sometimes happens, and especially when the business is deferred till the close of the dry or south-east monsoon, whose termination is at best irregular, produces much inconvenience by the delay of burning till the vegetation has had time to renew itself; in which case the spot is commonly abandoned, or, if partially burned, it is not without considerable toil that it can be afterwards prepared for sowing. On such occasions there are imposters ready to make a profit of the credulity of the husbandman who, like all others whose employments expose them to risks, are prone to superstition, by pretending to a power of causing or retarding rain. One of these will receive, at the time of burning the ladangs, a dollar or more from each family in the neighbourhood, under the pretence of ensuring favourable weather for their undertaking. To accomplish this purpose he abstains, or pretends to abstain, for many days and nights from food and sleep, and performs various trifling ceremonies; continuing all the time in the open air. If he espies a cloud gathering he immediately begins to smoke tobacco with great vehemence, walking about with a quick pace and throwing the puffs towards it with all the force of his lungs. How far he is successful it is no difficult matter to judge. His skill, in fact, lies in choosing his time, when there is the greatest prospect of the continuance of fair weather in the ordinary course of nature: but should he fail there is an effectual salvo. He always promises to fulfil his agreement with a Deo volente clause, and so attributes his occasional disappointments to the particular interposition of the deity. The cunning men who, in this and many other instances of conjuration, impose on the simple country people, are always Malayan adventurers, and not unfrequently priests. The planter whose labour has been lost by such interruptions generally finds it too late in the season to begin on another ladang, and the ordinary resource for subsisting himself and family is to seek a spot of sawah ground, whose cultivation is less dependent upon accidental variations of weather. In some districts much confusion in regard to the period of sowing is said to have arisen from a very extraordinary cause. Anciently, say the natives, it was regulated by the stars, and particularly by the appearance (heliacal rising) of the bintang baniak or Pleiades; but after the introduction of the Mahometan religion they were induced to follow the returns of the puisa or great annual fast, and forgot their old rules. The consequence of this was obvious, for the lunar year of the hejrah being eleven days short of the sidereal or solar year the order of the seasons was soon inverted; and it is only astonishing that its inaptness to the purposes of agriculture should not have been immediately discovered.
Unusual wet weather during this time can occasionally occur, especially if the work is postponed until the end of the dry or southeast monsoon, which has an unpredictable end. This leads to significant delays in burning, allowing the vegetation to grow back. In such cases, the area is often abandoned, or if partially burned, it takes considerable effort to prepare it for planting again. During these times, there are con artists ready to exploit the naivety of farmers, who, like many in risky jobs, tend to be superstitious, by claiming they can influence the rain. One of these con artists will collect a dollar or more from each family in the area when it's time to burn the fields, pretending to ensure good weather for their efforts. To fulfill this, he claims to go without food and sleep for several days and nights, doing various trivial rituals while staying outdoors. If he sees a cloud forming, he immediately starts smoking tobacco vigorously, pacing around and blowing smoke toward the cloud with all his strength. You can easily judge how successful he really is. His talent lies in timing his service when fair weather is most likely according to natural patterns. But if he fails, he has a clever backup: he always promises to fulfill his commitment with a “God willing” clause, blaming any failures on divine intervention. The tricksters who deceive the simple rural folk in this and many other similar situations are usually Malay adventurers, and often priests. The planter whose work has been disrupted typically finds it too late in the season to start another field, and his usual solution for supporting himself and his family is to find a plot of rice field, which is less affected by unpredictable weather. In some areas, a lot of confusion about planting times has reportedly arisen from a very unusual reason. According to locals, it used to be determined by the stars, especially by the appearance (heliacal rising) of the Pleiades; but after the introduction of Islam, they started to follow the timing of the puisa or major annual fast and forgot their old methods. The result was clear, as the lunar year of the hejrah is eleven days shorter than the sidereal or solar year, leading to a mix-up in the seasons; it’s surprising that its inappropriateness for agriculture wasn’t noticed immediately.
SOWING.
Planting.
When the periodical rains begin to fall, which takes place gradually about October, the planter assembles his neighbours (whom he assists in turn), and with the aid of his whole family proceeds to sow his ground, endeavouring to complete the task in the course of one day. In order to ensure success he fixes, by the priest's assistance, on a lucky day, and vows the sacrifice of a kid if his crop should prove favourable; the performance of which is sacredly observed, and is the occasion of a feast in every family after harvest. The manner of sowing (tugal-menugal) is this. Two or three men enter the plantation, as it is usual to call the padi-field, holding in each hand sticks about five feet long and two inches diameter, bluntly pointed, with which, striking them into the ground as they advance, they make small, shallow holes, at the distance of about five inches from each other. These are followed by the women and elder children with small baskets containing the seed-grain (saved with care from the choicest of the preceding crop) of which they drop four or five grains into every hole, and, passing on, are followed by the younger children who with their feet (in the use of which the natives are nearly as expert as with their hands) cover them lightly from the adjacent earth, that the seed may not be too much exposed to the birds, which, as might be expected, often prove destructive foes. The ground, it should be observed, has not been previously turned up by any instrument of the hoe or plough kind, nor would the stumps and roots of trees remaining in it admit of the latter being worked; although employed under other circumstances, as will hereafter appear. If rain succeeds the padi is above ground in four or five days; but by an unexpected run of dry weather it is sometimes lost, and the field sowed a second time. When it has attained a month or six weeks' growth it becomes necessary to clear it of weeds (siang-menyiang), which is repeated at the end of two months or ten weeks; after which the strength it has acquired is sufficient to preserve it from injury in that way. Huts are now raised in different parts of the plantation, from whence a communication is formed over the whole by means of rattans, to which are attached scarecrows, rattles, clappers, and other machines for frightening away the birds, in the contrivance of which they employ incredible pains and ingenuity; so disposing them that a child, placed in the hut, shall be able, with little exertion, to create a loud clattering noise to a great extent; and on the borders of the field are placed at intervals a species of windmill fixed on poles which, on the inexperienced traveller, have an effect as terrible as those encountered by the knight of La Mancha. Such precautions are indispensable for the protection of the corn, when in the ear, against the numerous flights of the pipi, a small bird with a light-brown body, white head, and bluish beak, rather less than the sparrow, which in its general appearance and habits it resembles. Several of these lighting at once upon a stalk of padi, and bearing it down, soon clear it of its produce, and thus if unmolested destroy whole crops.
When the seasonal rains start around October, the farmer gathers his neighbors (who he helps in return), and with his whole family, sets out to plant his land, trying to finish the job in one day. To ensure a good harvest, he works with the priest to choose an auspicious day and promises to sacrifice a kid if his crops turn out well; this promise is taken seriously, and it leads to a feast in every family after the harvest. The method of planting, known as tugal-menugal, is as follows: two or three men enter the rice field, each carrying sticks about five feet long and two inches wide, with blunt ends. They strike the sticks into the ground as they move, creating small, shallow holes about five inches apart. Following them are the women and older children with small baskets filled with seed grains (carefully saved from the best part of the previous harvest), and they drop four or five grains into each hole. After them come the younger children, who expertly use their feet to cover the holes lightly with earth, preventing the seeds from being too exposed to birds, which can be significant threats. It's important to note that the ground hasn’t been tilled with tools like hoes or plows, and the stumps and roots of trees in the soil make it impossible to do so, although other methods will be used later as will be explained. If it rains, the rice will sprout in four or five days; however, an unexpected dry spell can sometimes wipe it out, requiring the field to be replanted. When the rice has grown for about a month or six weeks, it becomes necessary to weed it (siang-menyiang), which is repeated after two months or ten weeks; after that, the plants are strong enough to withstand weeds. Huts are built in various parts of the field, connected by ropes where scarecrows, rattles, clappers, and other contraptions are hung to scare away the birds. They put in incredible effort and creativity to design these devices so that a child inside the hut can create a loud noise with minimal effort. Additionally, at intervals along the edges of the field, windmills on poles are set up, which can seem quite frightening to an inexperienced traveler, much like those encountered by a certain knight from La Mancha. These precautions are crucial to protect the grain from the many flocks of pipis, small birds with light brown bodies, white heads, and bluish beaks, which are slightly smaller than sparrows and share their appearance and behavior. When several of these birds land on a single stalk of rice, they can quickly strip it bare, leading to the destruction of entire crops if left unchecked.
At the time of sowing the padi it is a common practice to sow also, in the interstices, and in the same manner, jagong or maize, which, growing up faster and ripening before it (in little more than three months) is gathered without injury to the former. It is also customary to raise in the same ground a species of momordica, the fruit of which comes forward in the course of two months.
At the time of planting rice, it is common to also plant corn in the spaces between, using the same method. Since corn grows quickly and ripens in just over three months, it can be harvested without harming the rice. It's also customary to grow a type of bitter melon in the same area, as its fruit becomes ready in about two months.
REAPING.
Harvesting.
The nominal time allowed from the sowing to the reaping of the crop is five lunar months and ten days; but from this it must necessarily vary with the circumstances of the season. When it ripens, if all at the same time, the neighbours are again summoned to assist, and entertained for the day: if a part only ripens first the family begin to reap it, and proceed through the whole by degrees. In this operation, called tuwei-menuwei from the instrument used, they take off the head of corn (the term of ear not being applicable to the growth of this plant) about six inches below the grain, the remaining stalk or halm being left as of no value. The tuwei is a piece of wood about six inches long, usually of carved work and about two inches diameter, in which is fixed lengthwise a blade of four or five inches, secured at the extremes by points bent to a right angle and entering the wood. To this is added a piece of very small bamboo from two to three inches long, fixed at right angles across the back of the wood, with a notch for receiving it, and pinned through by a small peg. This bamboo rests in the hollow of the hand, one end of the piece of wood passing between the two middle fingers, with the blade outwards; the natives always cutting FROM them.* With this in the right hand and a small basket slung over the left shoulder, they very expeditiously crop the heads of padi one by one, bringing the stalk to the blade with their two middle fingers, and passing them, when cut, from the right hand to the left. As soon as the left hand is full the contents are placed in regular layers in the basket (sometimes tied up in a little sheaf), and from thence removed to larger baskets, in which the harvest is to be conveyed to the dusun or village, there to be lodged in the tangkian or barns, which are buildings detached from the dwelling-houses, raised like them from the ground, widening from the floor towards the roof, and well lined with boards or coolitcoy. In each removal care is taken to preserve the regularity of the layers, by which means it is stowed to advantage, and any portion of it readily taken out for use.
The usual time from planting to harvesting the crop is five lunar months and ten days, but this can change depending on the season's conditions. When the crop ripens, if it all matures at once, the neighbors are invited to help out and are entertained for the day. If only part of the crop ripens first, the family starts harvesting it and continues gradually. This process, called tuwei-menuwei based on the tool used, involves cutting the heads of corn (the term "ear" doesn’t apply to this plant) about six inches below the grain, leaving the rest of the stalk as it is. The tuwei is a wooden piece about six inches long, usually decorated and about two inches in diameter, with a four to five-inch blade fixed lengthwise in it, secured at both ends by points bent at a right angle that go into the wood. A small piece of bamboo, two to three inches long, is attached at a right angle across the back of the wood, with a notch for it and is pinned in place by a small peg. This bamboo rests in the hand's palm, with one end of the wood going between the two middle fingers and the blade facing out; locals always cut away from themselves. Holding this with the right hand and a small basket slung over the left shoulder, they quickly cut the heads of padi one by one, bringing the stalk to the blade with their two middle fingers and transferring them from the right hand to the left as they cut. Once the left hand is full, they arrange the contents in layers in the basket (sometimes tied into small bundles), and from there, it is moved to larger baskets for transporting the harvest to the dusun or village, where it is stored in the tangkian or barns. These barns are separate from the houses, elevated like them off the ground, wider from the floor to the roof, and well lined with boards or coolitcoy. During each transfer, care is taken to keep the layers organized, allowing for efficient storage and easy access when needed.
(*Footnote. The inhabitants of Menangkabau are said to reap with an instrument resembling a sickle.)
(*Footnote. The people of Menangkabau are said to harvest using a tool that looks like a sickle.)
LOW-GROUND RICE.
Lowland rice.
Sawahs are plantations of padi in low wet ground, which, during the growth of the crop, in the rainy season between the months of October and March,* are for the most part overflowed to the depth of six inches or a foot, beyond which latter the water becomes prejudicial. Level marshes, of firm bottom, under a moderate stratum of mud, and not liable to deep stagnant water, are the situations preferred; the narrower hollows, though very commonly used for small plantations, being more liable to accidents from torrents and too great depth of water, which the inhabitants have rarely industry enough to regulate to advantage by permanent embankments. They are not however ignorant of such expedients, and works are sometimes met with, constructed for the purpose chiefly of supplying the deficiency of rain to several adjoining sawahs by means of sluices, contrived with no small degree of skill and attention to levels.
Sawahs are fields where rice is grown in low, wet areas that, during the crop's growth in the rainy season from October to March,* are mostly flooded to a depth of six inches to a foot, beyond which the water becomes harmful. The preferred locations are level marshes with a solid bottom, covered by a moderate layer of mud, and not prone to deep stagnant water. The narrower depressions, though often used for smaller fields, are more likely to experience problems from floods and excessive water depth, which the locals often lack the initiative to manage effectively with permanent embankments. However, they are not unaware of such methods, and there are sometimes structures built specifically to address the lack of rain for several neighboring sawahs through sluices, designed with considerable skill and attention to levels.
(*Footnote. In the Transactions of the Batavian Society the following mention is made of the cultivation of rice in Java. The padi sawa is sown in low watered grounds in the month of March, transplanted in April, and reaped in August. The padi tipar is sown in high ploughed lands in November, and reaped in March (earlier in the season than I could have supposed.) when sown where woods have been recently cut down, or in the clefts of the hills (klooven van het gebergte) it is named padi gaga. Volume 1 page 27.)
(*Footnote. In the Transactions of the Batavian Society, there is a mention of rice cultivation in Java. The padi sawa is planted in low, flooded areas in March, transplanted in April, and harvested in August. The padi tipar is planted in high, tilled lands in November and harvested in March (earlier in the season than I would have expected). When sown in areas where the woods have recently been cleared, or in the crevices of the hills (klooven van het gebergte), it is referred to as padi gaga. Volume 1 page 27.)
In new ground, after clearing it from the brushwood, reeds, and aquatic vegetables with which the marshes, when neglected, are overrun, and burning them at the close of the dry season, the soil is, in the beginning of the wet, prepared for culture by different modes of working. In some places a number of buffaloes, whose greatest enjoyment consists in wading and rolling in mud, are turned in, and these by their motions contribute to give it a more uniform consistence as well as enrich it by their dung. In other parts less permanently moist the soil is turned up, either with a wooden instrument between a hoe and a pickaxe, or with the plough, of which they use two kinds; their own, drawn by one buffalo, extremely simple, and the wooden share of it doing little more than scratch the ground to the depth of six inches; and one they have borrowed from the Chinese, drawn either with one or two buffaloes, very light, and the share more nearly resembling ours, turning the soil over as it passes and making a narrow furrow. In sawahs however the surface has in general so little consistence that no furrow is perceptible, and the plough does little more than loosen the stiff mud to some depth, and cut the roots of the grass and weeds, from which it is afterwards cleared by means of a kind of harrow or rake, being a thick plank of heavy wood with strong wooden teeth and loaded with earth where necessary. This they contrive to drag along the surface for the purpose at the same time of depressing the rising spots and filling up the hollow ones. The whole being brought as nearly as possible to a level, that the water may lie equally upon it the sawah is, for the more effectual securing of this essential point, divided into portions nearly square or oblong (called piring, which signifies a dish) by narrow banks raised about eighteen inches and two feet wide. These drying become harder than the rest, confine the water, and serve the purpose of footways throughout the plantation. When there is more water in one division than another small passages are cut through the dams to produce an equality. Through these apertures water is also in some instances introduced from adjacent rivers or reservoirs, where such exist, and the season requires their aid. The innumerable springs and rivulets with which this country abounds render unnecessary the laborious processes by which water is raised and supplied to the rice grounds in the western part of India, where the soil is sandy: yet still the principal art of the planter consists, and is required, in the management of this article; to furnish it to the ground in proper and moderate quantities and to carry it off from time to time by drains; for if suffered to be long stagnant it would occasion the grain to rot.
After clearing new land of brush, reeds, and aquatic plants that can take over neglected marshes, and burning it at the end of the dry season, the soil is prepared for farming in various ways as the wet season begins. In some areas, a number of buffaloes, who love wading and rolling in mud, are let in. Their movements help make the soil more uniform and enrich it with their dung. In less permanently moist areas, the soil is worked up using either a wooden tool that’s a mix between a hoe and a pickaxe, or a plow. They use two types of plows: their own, which is pulled by one buffalo, very simple and only scratching the ground about six inches deep, and a lightweight plow borrowed from the Chinese, which can be pulled by one or two buffaloes. This plow has a share more similar to ours, turning the soil as it moves and creating a narrow furrow. In sawahs, however, the surface is usually too soft for any noticeable furrows; the plow mainly loosens the hard mud and cuts the roots of grass and weeds, which are then removed with a type of harrow or rake—a thick plank of heavy wood with strong wooden teeth that can be loaded with earth if needed. They drag this along the surface to lower raised spots and fill in the hollows, aiming to level the area so that water can sit evenly across it. To maintain this balance, the sawah is divided into nearly square or rectangular sections (called piring, meaning a dish) by narrow banks raised about eighteen inches and two feet wide. As these banks dry, they become harder than the surrounding soil, keeping the water contained and serving as walkways throughout the field. When one section has more water than others, small passages are cut through the dikes to achieve balance. Water may also be brought in through these openings from nearby rivers or reservoirs when necessary. The abundance of springs and streams in this area makes it unnecessary to use the labor-intensive methods for supplying water to rice fields common in the sandy soil of western India. Still, the primary skill of the farmer involves managing the water supply, providing just the right amount to the fields while also draining excess; if water is left stagnant for too long, it can cause the grain to rot.
TRANSPLANTATION.
Transplant.
Whilst the sawahs have been thus in preparation to receive the padi a small, adjacent, and convenient spot of good soil has been chosen, in which the seed-grain is sown as thick as it can well lie to the ground, and is then often covered with layers of lalang (long grass, instead of straw) to protect the grain from the birds, and perhaps assist the vegetation. When it has grown to the height of from five to eight inches, or generally at the end of forty days from the time of sowing, it is taken up in showery weather and transplanted to the sawah, where holes are made four or five inches asunder to receive the plants. If they appear too forward the tops are cropped off. A supply is at the same time reserved in the seed-plots to replace such as may chance to fail upon removal. These plantations, in the same manner as the ladangs, it is necessary to cleanse from weeds at least twice in the first two or three months; but no maize or other seed is sown among the crop. When the padi begins to form the ear or to blossom, as the natives express it, the water is finally drawn off, and at the expiration of four months from the time of transplanting it arrives at maturity. The manner of guarding against the birds is similar to what has been already described; but the low ground crop has a peculiar and very destructive enemy in the rats, which sometimes consume the whole of it, especially when the plantation has been made somewhat out of season; to obviate which evil the inhabitants of a district sow by agreement pretty nearly at the same time; whereby the damage is less perceptible. In the mode of reaping likewise there is nothing different. Upon the conclusion of the harvest it is an indispensable duty to summon the neighbouring priests to the first meal that is made of the new rice, when an entertainment is given according to the circumstances of the family. Should this ceremony be omitted the crop would be accursed (haram) nor could the whole household expect to outlive the season. This superstition has been by the Mahometans judiciously engrafted on the stock of credulity in the country people.
While the fields have been prepared to receive the rice, a small, nearby, and suitable patch of good soil has been selected, where the seed grains are sown as densely as possible to the ground. Then, it's often covered with layers of lalang (long grass, instead of straw) to protect the seeds from birds and maybe help them grow. Once the plants have grown to about five to eight inches, or generally after forty days from sowing, they are taken up during rainy weather and transplanted to the fields, where holes are made four or five inches apart to accommodate the plants. If they seem too mature, the tops are trimmed off. A backup supply is kept in the seed plots to replace any plants that may fail during removal. Just like with the ladangs, these crops need to be cleared of weeds at least twice in the first two to three months, but no maize or other seeds are planted among the rice. When the rice starts to form ears or blossom, as the locals say, the water is finally drained off, and after four months from transplanting, the rice reaches maturity. The method of protecting against birds is similar to what has already been described; however, the lowland crops face a unique and very destructive enemy: rats, which can sometimes eat all the crops, especially if they are planted somewhat out of season. To tackle this issue, the people in a region tend to sow their crops around the same time, making any damage less noticeable. The harvesting method is also unchanged. After the harvest, it is an essential duty to invite the local priests for the first meal made from the new rice, hosting an event based on the family's circumstances. If this ceremony is skipped, the crop will be considered cursed (haram), and the whole household might not survive the season. This superstition has been wisely woven by the Muslims into the beliefs of the local population.
The same spot of low ground is for the most part used without regular intermission for several successive years, the degree of culture they bestow by turning up the soil and the overflowing water preserving its fertility. They are not however insensible to the advantage of occasional fallows. In consequence of this continued use the value of the sawah grounds differs from that of ladangs, the former being, in the neighbourhood of populous towns particularly, distinct property, and of regularly ascertained value. At Natal for example those consisting between one and two acres sell for sixteen to twenty Spanish dollars. In the interior country, where the temperature of the air is more favourable to agriculture, they are said to sow the same spot with ladang rice for three successive years; and there also it is common to sow onions as soon as the stubble is burned off. Millet (randa jawa) is sown at the same time with the padi. In the country of Manna, southward of Bencoolen, a progress in the art of cultivation is discovered, superior to what appears in almost any other part of the island; the Batta country perhaps alone excepted. Here may be seen pieces of land in size from five to fifteen acres, regularly ploughed and harrowed. The difference is thus accounted for. It is the most populous district in that southern part, with the smallest extent of sea-coast. The pepper plantations and ladangs together having in a great measure exhausted the old woods in the accessible parts of the country, and the inhabitants being therein deprived of a source of fertility which nature formerly supplied, they must either starve, remove to another district, or improve by cultivation the spot where they reside. The first is contrary to the inherent principle that teaches man to preserve life by every possible means: their attachment to their native soil, or rather their veneration for the sepulchres of their ancestors, is so strong that to remove would cost them a struggle almost equal to the pangs of death: necessity therefore, the parent of art and industry, compels them to cultivate the earth.
The same low area is mostly used continuously for several years, with the way they turn the soil and the overflowing water maintaining its fertility. However, they're not unaware of the benefits of taking breaks for fallow periods. Because of this constant use, the value of the sawah lands is different from that of ladangs—especially near populated towns, the former are separate properties with established values. For instance, in Natal, plots that are between one and two acres sell for sixteen to twenty Spanish dollars. In the interior, where the climate is more favorable for farming, they often plant ladang rice in the same spot for three consecutive years, and it's also common to plant onions as soon as the stubble is burned off. Millet (randa jawa) is sown at the same time as the padi. In the Manna region, south of Bencoolen, there’s a noticeable advancement in farming techniques that is better than in almost any other area of the island, with the exception of the Batta country. Here, you can find plots ranging from five to fifteen acres that are regularly plowed and harrowed. This difference can be explained by the fact that it's the most populated area in the southern region and has the least coastline. The pepper plantations and ladangs have mostly depleted the old forests in the more accessible parts of the country, and the people there have lost a natural source of fertility. As a result, they face the choice of starving, moving to another area, or improving the land where they live. The first option contradicts the natural instinct to sustain life in any way possible; their strong attachment to their homeland—or rather, their reverence for the graves of their ancestors—makes moving feel almost like experiencing a death. Thus, necessity, the mother of innovation and effort, drives them to cultivate the land.
RATE OF PRODUCE.
PRODUCE PRICE.
The produce of the grounds thus tilled is reckoned at thirty for one; from those in the ordinary mode about a hundred fold on the average, the ladangs yielding about eighty, and the sawahs a hundred and twenty. Under favourable circumstances I am assured the rate of produce is sometimes so high as a hundred and forty fold. The quantity sown by a family is usually from five to ten bamboo measures or gallons. These returns are very extraordinary compared with those of our wheat-fields in Europe, which I believe seldom exceed fifteen, and are often under ten. To what is this disproportion owing? to the difference of grain, as rice may be in its nature extremely prolific? to the more genial influence of a warmer climate? or to the earth's losing by degrees her fecundity from an excessive cultivation? Rather than to any of these causes I am inclined to attribute it to the different process followed in sowing. In England the saving of labour and promoting of expedition are the chief objects, and in order to effect these the grain is almost universally scattered in the furrows; excepting where the drill has been introduced. The Sumatrans, who do not calculate the value of their own labour or that of their domestics on such occasions, make holes in the ground, as has been described, and drop into each a few grains*; or, by a process still more tedious, raise the seed in beds and then plant it out. Mr. Charles Miller, in a paper published in the Philosophical Transactions, has shown us the wonderful effects of successive transplantation. How far it might be worth the English farmer's while to bestow more labour in the business of sowing the grain, with the view of a proportionate increase in the rate of produce, I am not competent, nor is it to my present purpose, to form a judgment. Possibly as the advantage might be found to lie rather in the quantity of grain saved in the sowing than gained in the reaping, it would not answer his purpose; for although half the quantity of seed-corn bears reciprocally the same proportion to the usual produce that double the latter does to the usual allowance of seed, yet in point of profit the scale is different. To augment this it is of much more importance to increase the produce from a given quantity of land than to diminish the quantity of grain necessary for sowing it.
The yield from the cultivated land is estimated at thirty to one; those farmed in the usual way average about a hundred times the sowed amount, with fields yielding around eighty and rice paddies about a hundred and twenty. Under favorable conditions, I’ve been told that yields can sometimes reach as high as a hundred and forty times. A family typically sows between five to ten bamboo measures or gallons. These returns are remarkable compared to our wheat fields in Europe, where I believe yields rarely exceed fifteen and are often below ten. What causes this discrepancy? Is it the grain itself, with rice being particularly prolific? Is it the more favorable conditions of a warmer climate? Or is it that the soil is gradually losing its fertility due to over-cultivation? I’m inclined to think it’s primarily due to the different methods used in sowing. In England, the main goals are saving labor and increasing efficiency, so grain is almost universally scattered in the furrows, except where drills are used. The people of Sumatra, who don’t value their own labor or that of their workers in these situations, make holes in the ground and drop in a few grains, or, in an even more time-consuming process, grow the seeds in beds and then transplant them. Mr. Charles Miller has shown in a paper published in the Philosophical Transactions the remarkable effects of successive transplantation. I can’t say whether it would be beneficial for the English farmer to put in more effort in sowing to see a proportional increase in yields; it’s not really my place to judge. Perhaps the advantage might actually lie more in saving seed when sowing rather than in the harvest. While using half the amount of seed corn can yield the same amount as double the usual seed amount does to the typical output, the profit scales differ. To increase profit, it’s much more important to enhance the yield from a given area of land than to reduce the amount of grain needed for sowing that land.
(*Footnote. In an address from the Bath Agricultural Society dated 12th October 1795 it is strongly recommended to the cultivators of land (on account of the then existing scarcity of grain) to adopt the method of dibbling wheat. The holes to be made either by the common dibble, or with an implement having four or more points in a frame, at the distance of about four inches every way, and to the depth of an inch and a half; dropping TWO grains into every hole. The man who dibbles is to move backwards and to be followed by two or three women or children, who drop in the grains. A bush-hurdle, drawn across the furrows by a single horse, finishes the business. About six pecks of seed-wheat per acre are saved by this method. The expense of dibbling, dropping, and covering is reckoned in Norfolk at about six shillings per acre. Times Newspaper of 20th October 1795.)
(*Footnote. In a statement from the Bath Agricultural Society dated October 12, 1795, it is highly recommended to farmers (due to the current shortage of grain) to use the technique of dibbling wheat. Holes should be made using either a standard dibble or a tool with four or more points in a frame, spaced about four inches apart in every direction, and to a depth of one and a half inches; placing TWO grains in each hole. The person dibbling should move backwards, followed by two or three women or children who will drop in the grains. A bush-hurdle, pulled across the furrows by a single horse, completes the process. This method can save about six pecks of seed-wheat per acre. The cost of dibbling, dropping, and covering is estimated in Norfolk to be around six shillings per acre. Times Newspaper from October 20, 1795.)
FERTILITY OF SOIL.
SOIL FERTILITY.
Notwithstanding the received opinion of the fertility of what are called the Malay Islands, countenanced by the authority of M. Poivre and other celebrated writers, and still more by the extraordinary produce of grain, as above stated, I cannot help saying that I think the soil of the western coast of Sumatra is in general rather sterile than rich. It is for the most part a stiff red clay, burned nearly to the state of a brick where it is exposed to the influence of the sun. The small proportion of the whole that is cultivated is either ground from which old woods have been recently cleared, whose leaves had formed a bed of vegetable earth some inches deep, or else ravines into which the scanty mould of the adjoining hills has been washed by the annual torrents of rain. It is true that in many parts of the coast there are, between the cliffs and the sea-beach, plains varying in breadth and extent of a sandy soil, probably left by the sea and more or less mixed with earth in proportion to the time they have remained uncovered by the waters; and such are found to prove the most favourable spots for raising the productions of other parts of the world. But these are partial and insufficient proofs of fertility. Every person who has attempted to make a garden of any kind nor Fort Marlborough must well know how ineffectual a labour it would prove to turn up with the spade a piece of ground adopted at random. It becomes necessary for this purpose to form an artificial soil of dung, ashes, rubbish, and such other materials as can be procured. From these alone he can expect to raise the smallest supply of vegetables for the table. I have seen many extensive plantations of coconut, pinang, lime, and coffee-trees, laid out at a considerable expense by different gentlemen, and not one do I recollect to have succeeded; owing as it would seem to the barrenness of the soil, although covered with long grass. These disappointments have induced the Europeans almost entirely to neglect agriculture. The more industrious Chinese colonists, who work the ground with indefatigable pains, and lose no opportunity of saving and collecting manure, are rather more successful; yet have I heard one of the most able cultivators among this people, who, by the dint of labour and perseverance, had raised what then appeared to me a delightful garden, designed for profit as well as pleasure, declare that his heart was almost broken in struggling against nature; the soil being so ungrateful that, instead of obtaining an adequate return for his trouble and expense, the undertaking was likely to render him a bankrupt; and which he would inevitably have been but for assistance afforded him by the East India Company.*
Despite the common belief about the fertility of the Malay Islands, backed by M. Poivre and other notable writers, and even more so by the remarkable amount of grain produced, I have to say that I believe the soil of the western coast of Sumatra is generally more barren than fertile. It mostly consists of hard red clay, nearly baked to a brick-like state when exposed to the sun. The small areas that are farmed come from land where old forests have recently been cleared, whose leaves formed a layer of rich soil a few inches deep, or from ravines where the thin soil from the nearby hills has washed down due to the annual heavy rains. It is true that there are many areas along the coast where sandy plains between the cliffs and the beach exist, likely left by the sea and mixed with soil to varying degrees based on how long they’ve been dry; these spots tend to be the best for growing crops from other regions. However, these are only limited and weak signs of fertility. Anyone who has tried to create any sort of garden near Fort Marlborough knows how futile it is to randomly dig up a piece of land. To achieve this, one must create an artificial soil using manure, ashes, rubbish, and other materials that can be found. Only from these can they hope to grow even a small amount of vegetables for the table. I have seen many large plantations of coconuts, betel nuts, limes, and coffee laid out at significant expense by various gentlemen, and I can't recall one that thrived; it seems due to the soil's barrenness, despite being covered in tall grass. These failures have led Europeans to largely abandon agriculture. The more hardworking Chinese settlers, who tirelessly cultivate the land and seize every opportunity to gather and save manure, have had a bit more success; yet I heard one of the most skilled cultivators among them, who through hard work and determination had created what I considered a beautiful garden, intended for both profit and enjoyment, say that he was nearly broken-hearted in his fight against nature. The soil was so unyielding that instead of receiving a fair return for his efforts and expenses, the venture was likely to leave him bankrupt, and he would have certainly been so if not for the help provided by the East India Company.*
(*Footnote. Some particular plants, especially the tea, Key Sun used to tell me he considered as his children: his first care in the morning and his last in the evening was to tend and cherish them. I heard with concern of his death soon after the first publication of this work, and could have wished the old man had lived to know that the above small tribute of attention had been paid to his merits as a gardener. In a letter received from the late ingenious Mr. Charles Campbell, belonging to the medical establishment of Fort Marlborough, whose communications I shall have future occasion to notice, he writes on the 29th of March 1802: "I must not omit to say a word about my attempts to cultivate the land. The result of all my labours in that way was disappointment almost as heartbreaking as that of the unlucky Chinaman, whose example however did not deter me. After many vexations I descended from the plains into the ravines, and there met with the success denied me on the elevated land. In one of these, through which runs a small rivulet emptying itself into the lake of Dusun Besar, I attempted a plantation of coffee, where there are now upwards of seven thousand plants firmly rooted and putting out new leaves." this cultivation has since been so much increased as to become an important article of commerce. It should at the same time be acknowledged that our acquaintance with the central and eastern parts of the island is very imperfect, and that much fertile land may be found beyond the range of mountains.)
(*Footnote. Some specific plants, especially tea, Key Sun used to tell me he regarded as his children: his first priority in the morning and his last task in the evening was to care for and nurture them. I felt sad when I heard about his death shortly after the first publication of this work, and I wished the old man could have known that this small tribute of appreciation had been made for his skills as a gardener. In a letter I received from the late clever Mr. Charles Campbell, who was part of the medical team at Fort Marlborough and whose insights I will refer to later, he wrote on March 29, 1802: "I must mention my attempts at farming. The outcome of all my efforts in that regard was disappointment almost as devastating as that of the unfortunate Chinaman, whose experience, however, didn't discourage me. After many frustrations, I moved from the plains to the ravines, where I found the success that eluded me on the higher ground. In one of these ravines, where a small stream flows into the lake of Dusun Besar, I began a coffee plantation, which now has over seven thousand plants securely rooted and sprouting new leaves." This cultivation has since grown significantly, becoming an important commercial product. It's also worth noting that our knowledge of the central and eastern parts of the island is quite limited, and there is likely much fertile land available beyond the mountain range.)
The natives, it is true, without much or any cultivation raise several useful trees and plants; but they are in very small quantities, and immediately about their villages, where the ground is fertilised in spite of their indolence by the common sweepings of their houses and streets and the mere vicinity of their buildings. I have often had occasion to observe in young plantations that those few trees which surrounded the house of the owner or the hut of the keeper considerably over-topped their brethren of the same age. Every person at first sight, and on a superficial view of the Malayan countries, pronounces them the favourites of nature where she has lavished her bounties with a profusion unknown in other regions, and laments the infatuation of the people, who neglect to cultivate the finest soil in the world. But I have scarcely known one who, after a few years' residence, has not entirely altered his opinion. Certain it is that in point of external appearance they may challenge all others to comparison. In many parts of Sumatra, rarely trodden by human foot, scenes present themselves adapted to raise the sublimest sentiments in minds susceptible of the impression. But how rarely are they contemplated by minds of that temper! and yet it is alone:
The locals, it's true, grow several useful trees and plants without much effort, but they only do so in small amounts and right around their villages, where the ground gets enriched despite their laziness by the common debris from their homes and streets and the proximity of their buildings. I've often noticed in young plantations that the few trees near the owner’s house or the caretaker’s hut significantly tower over their peers of the same age. At first glance, anyone looking at the Malay regions thinks they are nature's favorites, where she has generously bestowed her gifts more abundantly than in any other area, and they lament the foolishness of the locals for not cultivating the best land in the world. But I hardly know anyone who, after a few years living there, hasn’t completely changed their view. It’s certain that in terms of external beauty, they can compete with any other place. In many areas of Sumatra, rarely touched by human feet, you can find scenes that evoke the most profound feelings in those who are open to such impressions. But how rarely are they appreciated by those kinds of people! And yet it is alone:
For such the rivers dash their foaming tides,
The mountain swells, the vale subsides,
The stately wood detains the wandering sight,
And the rough barren rock grows pregnant with delight.
For the rivers rush with their foaming waters,
The mountain rises, the valley sinks,
The majestic forest captivates the wandering eye,
And the rugged, barren rock becomes filled with joy.
Even when there ARE inhabitants, to how little purpose as it respects them has she been profuse in ornament! In passing through places where my fancy was charmed with more luxuriant, wild, and truly picturesque views than I had ever before met with, I could not avoid regretting that a country so captivating to the eye should be allotted to a race of people who seem totally insensible of its beauties. But it is time to return from this excursion and pursue the progress of the husbandman through his remaining labours.
Even when there are people living there, she has been so generous with decoration for them that it seems pointless! As I traveled through areas where my imagination was captivated by more lush, wild, and genuinely beautiful scenery than I’d ever seen before, I couldn’t help but feel sorry that such an enchanting land is inhabited by a group of people who appear completely unaware of its beauty. But it’s time to come back from this journey and continue following the farmer as he carries out the rest of his work.
MODES OF THRESHING.
Threshing Methods.
Different nations have adopted various methods of separating the grain from the ear. The most ancient we read of was that of driving cattle over the sheaves in order to trample it out. Large planks, blocks of marble, heavy carriages, have been employed in later times for this end. In most parts of Europe the flail is now in use, but in England begins to be superseded by the powerful and expeditious but complicated threshing machine. The Sumatrans have a mode differing from all these. The bunches of padi in the ear being spread on mats, they rub out the grain between and under their feet; supporting themselves in common for the more easy performance of this labour by holding with their hands a bamboo placed horizontally over their heads. Although, by going always unshod, their feet are extremely callous, and therefore adapted to the exercise, yet the workmen when closely tasked by their masters sometimes continue shuffling till the blood issues from their soles. This is the universal practice throughout the island.
Different countries have different ways of separating the grain from the stalks. The oldest method we know of was driving cattle over the sheaves to trample it out. In later times, large planks, marble blocks, and heavy carriages have been used for this purpose. Today, most parts of Europe use the flail, but in England, it’s being replaced by the powerful, efficient, yet complex threshing machine. The people of Sumatra have their own unique method. They spread the bunches of padi on mats and rub the grain out with their feet, using a bamboo pole held horizontally above their heads for support to make the task easier. Although their feet are very tough from going barefoot and suited for this work, laborers sometimes shuffle so hard under pressure from their masters that they end up bleeding from their soles. This method is practiced throughout the entire island.
After treading out or threshing the next process is to winnow the corn (mengirei), which is done precisely in the same manner as practised by us. Advantage being taken of a windy day, it is poured out from the sieve or fan; the chaff dispersing whilst the heavier grain falls to the ground. This simple mode seems to have been followed in all ages and countries, though now giving place, in countries where the saving of labour is a principal object, to mechanical contrivances.
After threshing, the next step is to winnow the corn (mengirei), which is done in the same way we do it today. Taking advantage of a windy day, it’s poured from a sieve or fan; the chaff blows away while the heavier grain falls to the ground. This straightforward method seems to have been used in all times and places, although it is now being replaced in countries where labor-saving is a main goal by mechanical devices.
In order to clear the grain from the husk, by which operation the padi acquires the name of rice (bras), and loses one half of its measured quantity, two bamboos of the former yielding only one of the latter, it is first spread out in the sunshine to dry (jumur), and then pounded in large wooden mortars (lesung) with heavy pestles (alu) made of a hard species of wood, until the outer coat is completely separated from it, when it is again fanned. This business falls principally to the lot of the females of the family, two of whom commonly work at the same mortar. In some places (but not frequently) it is facilitated by the use of a lever, to the end of which a short pestle or pounder is fixed; and in others by a machine which is a hollow cylinder or frustum of a cone, formed of heavy wood, placed upon a solid block of the same diameter, the contiguous surfaces of each being previously cut in notches or small grooves, and worked backwards and forwards horizontally by two handles or transverse arms; a spindle fixed in the centre of the lower cylinder serving as an axis to the upper or hollow one. Into this the grain is poured, and it is thus made to perform the office of the hopper at the same time with that of the upper, or movable stone, in our mills. In working it is pressed downwards to increase the friction, which is sufficient to deprive the padi of its outer coating.
To separate the grain from the husk, which is how padi becomes rice (bras) and loses half of its original volume—two bamboos of the former yield only one of the latter—it is first laid out in the sun to dry (jumur), and then pounded in large wooden mortars (lesung) with heavy pestles (alu) made from a tough type of wood, until the outer layer is completely removed, after which it is fanned. This task is mainly carried out by the women in the family, with two of them typically working at the same mortar. In some places (though not often) a lever is used to help, with a short pestle attached to one end; in others, a machine made of a heavy wooden hollow cylinder or cone-shaped piece is placed on a solid block of the same size, with the surfaces carved in notches or small grooves, and operated back and forth horizontally by two handles or arms; a spindle fixed in the center of the lower cylinder acts as an axis for the upper hollow one. The grain is poured into this setup, allowing it to function as both the hopper and the upper movable stone, similar to those found in our mills. When in use, it is pressed down to increase friction, which is enough to remove the outer coating from the padi.
The rice is now in a state for sale, exportation, or laying up. To render it perfectly clean for eating, a point to which they are particularly attentive, it is put a second time into a lesung of smaller size, and, being sufficiently pounded without breaking the grains, it is again winnowed by tossing it dexterously in a flat sieve until the pure and spotless corns are separated from every particle of bran. They next wash it in cold water and then proceed to boil it in the manner before described.
The rice is now ready for sale, export, or storage. To make it perfectly clean for eating, which is something they pay special attention to, it is put a second time into a smaller mortar. After being pounded just enough to avoid breaking the grains, it is winnowed again by skillfully tossing it in a flat sieve until all the pure, clean grains are separated from any bits of bran. They then wash it in cold water and proceed to cook it as previously described.
RICE AS AN ARTICLE OF TRADE.
RICE AS A COMMODITY.
As an article of trade the Sumatran rice seems to be of a more perishable nature than that of some other countries, the upland rice not being expected to keep longer than twelve months, and the lowland showing signs of decay after six. At Natal there is a practice of putting a quantity of leaves of a shrub called lagundi (Vitex trifolia) amongst it in granaries, or the holds of vessels, on the supposition of its possessing the property of destroying or preventing the generation of weevils that usually breed in it. In Bengal it is said the rice intended for exportation is steeped in hot water whilst still in the husk, and afterwards dried by exposure to the sun; owing to which precaution it will continue sound for two or three years, and is on that account imported for garrison store at the European settlements. If retained in the state of padi it will keep very long without damaging.* The country people lay it up unthreshed from the stalk and beat it out (as we render their word tumbuk) from time to time as wanted for use or sale.
As a trade item, Sumatran rice appears to be more perishable than rice from some other countries. The upland rice is expected to last no longer than twelve months, while the lowland rice shows signs of spoiling after six months. In Natal, there's a common practice of mixing leaves from a shrub called lagundi (Vitex trifolia) with the rice in storage, whether in granaries or on ships, as it’s believed to eliminate or prevent the weevils that typically infest the rice. In Bengal, it’s reported that rice meant for export is soaked in hot water while still in the husk and then dried in the sun. This method allows the rice to remain good for two to three years, making it useful for European garrisons. If kept in its padi state, it can last a very long time without damage. The local people store it unthreshed and beat it out (which is what we translate as tumbuk) as needed for cooking or selling.
(*Footnote. I have in my possession specimens of a variety of species which were transmitted to me twelve years ago and are still perfectly sound.)
(*Footnote. I have samples of several species that were sent to me twelve years ago and are still perfectly intact.)
The price of this necessary of life differs considerably throughout the island, not only from the circumstances of the season but according to the general demand at the places where it is purchased, the degree of industry excited by such demand, and the aptitude of the country to supply it. The northern parts of the coast under the influence of the Achinese produce large quantities; particularly Susu and Tampat-tuan, where it is (or used to be) purchased at the rate of thirty bamboos (gallons) for the Spanish dollar, and exported either to Achin or to the settlement of Natal for the use of the Residency of Fort Marlborough. At Natal also, and for the same ultimate destination, is collected the produce of the small island of Nias, whose industrious inhabitants, living themselves upon the sweet-potato (Convolvulus batatas), cultivate rice for exportation only, encouraged by the demand from the English and (what were) the Dutch factories. Not any is exported from Natal of its actual produce; a little from Ayer Bungi; more from the extensive but neglected districts of Pasaman and Masang, and many cargoes from the country adjacent to Padang. Our pepper settlements to the northward of Fort Marlborough, from Moco-moco to Laye inclusive, export each a small quantity, but from thence southward to Kroi supplies are required for the subsistence of the inhabitants, the price varying from twelve to four bamboos according to the season. At our head settlement the consumption of the civil and military establishments, the company's LABOURERS, together with the Chinese and Malayan settlers, so much exceeds the produce of the adjoining districts (although exempted from any obligation to cultivate pepper) that there is a necessity for importing a quantity from the islands of Java and Bally, and from Bengal about three to six thousand bags annually.*
The price of this essential item varies significantly across the island, influenced not only by the season but also by the overall demand at the purchasing locations, the level of production driven by that demand, and the country's capacity to supply it. The northern coastal areas, under the influence of the Achinese, produce large quantities, especially in Susu and Tampat-tuan, where it is (or used to be) sold at thirty bamboos (gallons) for a Spanish dollar, and then exported either to Achin or to the settlement of Natal for the use of the Residency of Fort Marlborough. At Natal, the produce from the small island of Nias is also collected, where the hardworking inhabitants, who mainly survive on sweet potatoes (Convolvulus batatas), only grow rice for export, motivated by the demand from the English and former Dutch factories. No actual produce is exported from Natal; some comes from Ayer Bungi; more from the large but underdeveloped areas of Pasaman and Masang, and many shipments from the region near Padang. Our pepper settlements north of Fort Marlborough, from Moco-moco to Laye, each export a small amount, but southward to Kroi, supplies are needed for the local population, with prices varying from twelve to four bamboos depending on the season. At our main settlement, the consumption by civil and military establishments, the company's laborers, and the Chinese and Malay settlers far exceeds the output of the surrounding areas (which aren't required to grow pepper), creating a need to import quantities from the islands of Java and Bali, and from Bengal, totaling about three to six thousand bags annually.*
(*Footnote. This has reference to the period between 1770 and 1780 generally. So far as respects the natives there has been no material alteration.)
(*Footnote. This refers to the period from 1770 to 1780 in general. Regarding the natives, there has been no significant change.)
The rice called pulut or bras se-pulut (Oryza gelatinosa), of which mention has been made in the list above, is in its substance of a very peculiar nature, and not used as common food but with the addition of coconut-kernel in making a viscous preparation called lemang, which I have seen boiled in a green bamboo, and other juadahs or friandises. It is commonly distinguished into the white, red, and black sorts, among which the red appears to be the most esteemed. The black chiefly is employed by the Chinese colonists at Batavia and Fort Marlborough in the composition of a fermented liquor called bram or brum, of which the basis is the juice extracted from a species of palm.
The rice known as pulut or bras se-pulut (Oryza gelatinosa), mentioned earlier, has a very unique texture and isn’t used as regular food, but rather combined with coconut to make a thick dish called lemang, which I’ve seen cooked in green bamboo, along with other treats. It's usually categorized into white, red, and black varieties, with red being the most valued. The black variety is mainly used by Chinese communities in Batavia and Fort Marlborough to create a fermented drink called bram or brum, which is made from juice extracted from a type of palm.
COCONUT.
COCONUT.
The coconut-tree, kalapa, nior (Cocos nucifera), may be esteemed the next important object of cultivation from the uses to which its produce is applied; although by the natives of Sumatra it is not converted to such a variety of purposes as in the Maldives and those countries where nature has been less bountiful in other gifts. Its value consists principally in the kernel of the nut, the consumption of which is very great, being an essential ingredient in the generality of their dishes. From this also, but in a state of more maturity, is procured the oil in common use near the sea-coast, both for anointing the hair, in cookery, and for burning in lamps. In the interior country other vegetable oils are employed, and light is supplied by a kind of links made of dammar or resin. A liquor, commonly known in India by the name of toddy, is extracted from this as well as from other trees of the palm-kind. Whilst quite fresh it is sweet and pleasant to the taste, and is called nira. After four and twenty hours it acidulates, ferments, and becomes intoxicating, in which state it is called tuak. Being distilled with molasses and other ingredients it yields the spirit called arrack. In addition to these but of trifling importance are the cabbage or succulent pith at the head of the tree, which however can be obtained only when it is cut down, and the fibres of the leaves, of which the natives form their brooms. The stem is never used for building nor any carpenter's purposes in a country where fine timber so much abounds. The fibrous substance of the husk is not there manufactured into cordage, as in the west of India where it is known by the name of coir; rattans and eju (a substance to be hereafter described) being employed for that purpose. The shell of the nut is but little employed as a domestic utensil, the lower class of people preferring the bamboo and the labu (Cucurbita lagenaria) and the better sort being possessed of coarse chinaware. If the filaments surrounding the stem are anywhere manufactured into cloth, as has been asserted, it must be in countries that do not produce cotton, which is a material beyond all comparison preferable: besides that certain kind of trees, as before observed, afford in their soft and pliable inner bark what may be considered as a species of cloth ready woven to their hands.
The coconut tree, kalapa, nior (Cocos nucifera), might be regarded as the next important crop due to the various uses of its products. However, the people of Sumatra don't use it for as many purposes as those in the Maldives and other places where nature offers fewer resources. Its main value lies in the kernel of the nut, which is widely consumed and is a key ingredient in most of their dishes. The mature kernel is also used to extract oil, commonly found near the coast, for hair treatment, cooking, and lighting lamps. In the inland areas, other vegetable oils are used, and lighting is provided by links made from dammar or resin. A drink, known in India as toddy, is obtained from this and other palm trees. When fresh, it is sweet and tasty, called nira. After twenty-four hours, it turns sour, ferments, and becomes alcoholic, at which point it is referred to as tuak. When distilled with molasses and other ingredients, it produces a spirit called arrack. Additionally, there are minor uses such as the cabbage or soft pith at the top of the tree, which can only be harvested when the tree is cut down, and the fibers of the leaves, which locals use to make brooms. The stem is never used for construction or carpentry in a region where good timber is abundant. The fibrous material from the husk isn't used for making rope, unlike in western India where it's called coir; instead, rattans and eju (a substance that will be described later) are used for that. The shell of the nut is rarely used as a household item, as lower-class people prefer bamboo and labu (Cucurbita lagenaria), while the more affluent have coarse chinaware. If the fibers around the stem are made into cloth, as suggested, it likely happens in places without cotton, which is much more desirable. Moreover, certain trees, as mentioned earlier, have a soft and flexible inner bark that can easily be woven into cloth.
This tree in all its species, stages, fructification, and appropriate uses has been so elaborately and justly described by many writers, especially the celebrated Rumphius in his Herbarium Amboinense, and Van Rheede in his Hortus Malabaricus, that to attempt it here would be an unnecessary repetition, and I shall only add a few local observations on its growth. Every dusun is surrounded with a number of fruit-bearing trees, and especially the coconut where the soil and temperature will allow them to grow, and, near the bazaars or sea-port towns, where the concourse of inhabitants is in general much greater than in the country, there are always large plantations of them to supply the extraordinary demand. The tree thrives best in a low, sandy soil, near the sea, where it will produce fruit in four or five years; whilst in the clayey ground it seldom bears in less than seven to ten years. As you recede from the coast the growth is proportionably slower, owing to the greater degree of cold among the hills; and it must attain there nearly its full height before it is productive, whereas in the plains a child can generally reach its first fruit from the ground. Here, said a countryman at Laye, if I plant a coconut or durian-tree I may expect to reap the fruit of it; but in Labun (an inland district) I should only plant for my great-grandchildren. In some parts where the land is particularly high, neither these, the betel-nut, nor pepper-vines, will produce fruit at all.
This tree, in all its varieties, growth stages, fruiting, and suitable uses, has been thoroughly and accurately described by many authors, particularly the renowned Rumphius in his Herbarium Amboinense, and Van Rheede in his Hortus Malabaricus. Therefore, discussing it here would be unnecessarily repetitive, and I’ll just add a few local notes about its growth. Every village is surrounded by several fruit-bearing trees, especially coconuts, where the soil and climate allow them to thrive. Near the markets or coastal towns, where the population is generally much larger than in rural areas, there are always large plantations to meet the high demand. The tree grows best in low, sandy soil close to the sea, where it can produce fruit in four to five years; in clayey soil, it usually takes seven to ten years. As you move away from the coast, the growth slows down due to cooler temperatures in the hills, and the tree must nearly reach its full height before it starts to bear fruit. In the plains, a child can typically reach the first fruit from the ground. A local farmer in Laye said, "If I plant a coconut or durian tree here, I can expect to enjoy its fruit; but in Labun (an inland area), I would only plant for my great-grandchildren." In some higher regions, neither these trees, the betel nut, nor pepper vines produce any fruit at all.
It has been remarked by some writer that the date-bearing palm-tree and the coconut are never found to flourish in the same country. However this may hold good as a general assertion it is a fact that not one tree of that species is known to grow in Sumatra, where the latter, and many others of the palm kind, so much abound. All the small low islands which lie off the western coast are skirted near the sea-beach so thickly with coconut-trees that their branches touch each other, whilst the interior parts, though not on a higher level, are entirely free from them. This beyond a doubt is occasioned by the accidental floating of the nuts to the shore, where they are planted by the hand of nature, shoot up, and bear fruit; which, falling when it arrives at maturity, causes a successive reproduction. Where uninhabited, as is the case with Pulo Mego, one of the southernmost, the nuts become a prey to the rats and squirrels unless when occasionally disturbed by the crews of vessels which go thither to collect cargoes for market on the mainland. In the same manner, as we are told by Flacourt,* they have been thrown upon a coast of Madagascar and are not there indigenous; as I have been also assured by a native. Yet it appears that the natives call it voaniou, which is precisely the name by which it is familiarly known in Sumatra, being buah-nior; and v being uniformly substituted for b, and f for p, in the numerous Malayan words occurring in the language of the former island. On the other hand the singular production to which the appellation of sea-coconut (kalapa laut) has been given, and which is known to be the fruit of a species of borassus growing in one of the Seychelles Islands,** not far from Madagascar, are sometimes floated as far as the Malayan coasts, where they are supposed to be natives of the ocean and were held in high veneration for their miraculous effects in medicine until, about the year 1772, a large cargo of them was brought to Bencoolen by a French vessel, when their character soon fell with their price.
Some writers have noted that the date palm and the coconut tree never seem to thrive in the same region. While this might generally be true, it is a fact that there are no date palm trees in Sumatra, where coconuts and many other types of palm trees are abundant. All the small low islands off the western coast are so densely covered with coconut trees near the shoreline that their branches touch, while the inland areas, even at the same elevation, are completely free of them. This is undoubtedly due to the accidental drifting of the nuts to the shore, where they are naturally planted, sprout, and bear fruit; when these fruits mature and fall, they lead to a continuous cycle of reproduction. In uninhabited areas, like Pulo Mego, which is one of the southernmost islands, the nuts are eaten by rats and squirrels unless occasionally disturbed by crews from ships that come to gather cargo for the mainland market. Similarly, as noted by Flacourt,* coconuts have been washed ashore on the Madagascar coast and are not native there; I have also been informed of this by a local resident. Interestingly, the locals refer to it as voaniou, which is exactly the same name used in Sumatra, known there as buah-nior; 'v' is consistently substituted for 'b,' and 'f' for 'p' in many Malay words found in the language of Sumatra. Conversely, a unique type of produce known as sea coconut (kalapa laut), which is actually the fruit of a borassus species growing in one of the Seychelles Islands,** not far from Madagascar, can sometimes drift as far as the Malay coasts. These were once thought to be native to the ocean and were highly valued for their supposed medicinal properties until around 1772, when a large shipment was brought to Bencoolen by a French vessel, causing their reputation to plummet along with their market value.
(*Footnote. Histoire de l'isle Madagascar page 127.)
(*Footnote. History of the island of Madagascar page 127.)
(*Footnote. See a particular description of the sea-coconut with plates in the Voyage a la Nouvelle Guinee par Sonnerat page 3.)
(*Footnote. See a detailed description of the sea-coconut with plates in the Voyage à la Nouvelle Guinée by Sonnerat, page 3.)
PINANG OR BETEL-NUT.
Betel nut.
The pinang (Areca catechu L.) or betel-nut-tree (as it is usually, but improperly, called, the betel being a different plant) is in its mode of growth and appearance not unlike the coconut. It is however straighter in the stem, smaller in proportion to the height, and more graceful. The fruit, of which the varieties are numerous (such as pinang betul, pinang ambun, and pinang wangi), is in its outer coat about the size of a plum; the nut something less than that of the nutmeg but rounder. This is eaten with the leaf of the sirih or betel (Piper betel L.) a claiming plant whose leaf has a strong aromatic flavour and other stimulating additions; a practice that shall be hereafter described. Of both of these the natives make large plantations.
The pinang (Areca catechu L.), commonly but incorrectly referred to as the betel-nut tree (since betel is a different plant), grows in a way and looks somewhat similar to the coconut tree. However, it has a straighter trunk, is smaller in relation to its height, and looks more graceful. The fruit comes in many varieties (like pinang betul, pinang ambun, and pinang wangi) and its outer shell is about the size of a plum; the nut inside is slightly smaller than a nutmeg but rounder. People eat it with the leaf of the sirih or betel (Piper betel L.), a climbing plant with a strong aromatic flavor and added stimulating qualities; this practice will be described later. Both the pinang and sirih are cultivated extensively by the locals.
BAMBOO.
Bamboo.
In respect to its numerous and valuable uses the bambu or bamboo-cane (Arundo bambos) holds a conspicuous rank amongst the vegetables of the island, though I am not aware that it is anywhere cultivated for domestic purposes, growing wild in most parts in great abundance. In the Batta country, and perhaps some other inland districts, they plant a particular species very thickly about their kampongs or fortified villages as a defence against the attacks of an enemy; the mass of hedge which they form being almost impenetrable. It grows in common to the thickness of a man's leg, and some sorts to that of the thigh. The joints are from fifteen to twenty inches asunder, and the length about twenty to forty feet. In all manner of building it is the chief material, both in its whole state, and split into laths and otherwise, as has already appeared in treating of the houses of the natives; and the various other modes of employing it will be noticed either directly or incidentally in the course of the work.
In terms of its many valuable uses, bamboo (Arundo bambos) is highly regarded among the plants of the island, although I don’t think it’s cultivated for personal use anywhere, as it grows wild abundantly in most areas. In the Batta region and possibly some other inland areas, a specific species is planted very densely around their kampongs or fortified villages to protect against enemy attacks; the dense hedge they create is almost impossible to get through. It can grow as thick as a man's leg, and some varieties even as thick as a thigh. The joints are spaced about fifteen to twenty inches apart, with lengths ranging from twenty to forty feet. It is the primary material used in all types of building, both in its natural state and when split into strips and used in other ways, as has been mentioned when discussing the natives' houses. Various other ways of utilizing it will be noted either directly or indirectly throughout this work.
SUGAR-CANE.
Sugarcane.
The sugar-cane (tubbu) is very generally cultivated, but not in large quantities, and more frequently for the sake of chewing the juicy reed, which they consider as a delicacy, than for the manufacture of sugar. Yet this is not unattended to for home consumption, especially in the northern districts. By the Europeans and Chinese large plantations have been set on foot near Bencoolen, and worked from time to time with more or less effect; but in no degree to rival those of the Dutch at Batavia, from whence in time of peace the exportation of sugar (gula), sugar-candy (gula batu) and arrack is very considerable. In the southern parts of the island, and particularly in the district of Manna, every village is provided with two or three machines of a peculiar construction for squeezing the cane; but the inhabitants are content with boiling the juice to a kind of syrup. In the Lampong country they manufacture from the liquor yielded by a species of palm-tree a moist, clammy, imperfect kind of sugar, called jaggri in most parts of India.*
Sugarcane (tubbu) is widely grown, but not in large amounts, and more often for chewing the sweet stalk, which is considered a treat, rather than for making sugar. However, this isn't entirely overlooked for home use, especially in the northern areas. Large plantations have been established by Europeans and Chinese near Bencoolen, and they are worked intermittently with varying success; but they don't come close to matching the Dutch plantations in Batavia, from where, in peacetime, a significant amount of sugar (gula), sugar candy (gula batu), and arrack are exported. In the southern part of the island, especially in Manna district, every village has two or three uniquely designed machines to squeeze the cane; however, the locals are satisfied with boiling the juice down to a syrup. In the Lampong region, they produce a moist, sticky, and somewhat crude type of sugar from the juice of a certain palm tree, called jaggri in many parts of India.*
(*Footnote. This word is evidently the shakar of the Persians, the Latin saccharum, and our sugar.)
(*Footnote. This word clearly refers to the shakar of the Persians, the Latin saccharum, and our sugar.)
JAGGRI.
JAGGRI.
This palm, named in Sumatra anau, and by the eastern Malays gomuto, is the Borassus gomutus of Loureiro, the Saguerus pinnatus of the Batavian Transactions, and the cleophora of Gaertner. Its leaves are long and narrow and, though naturally tending to a point, are scarcely ever found perfect, but always jagged at the end. The fruit grows in bunches of thirty or forty together, on strings three or four feet long, several of which hang from one shoot. In order to procure the nira or toddy (held in higher estimation than that from the coconut-tree), one of these shoots for fructification is cut off a few inches from the stem, the remaining part is tied up and beaten, and an incision is then made, from which the liquor distils into a vessel or bamboo closely fastened beneath. This is replaced every twenty-four hours. The anau palm produces also (beside a little sago) the remarkable substance called iju and gomuto, exactly resembling coarse black horse-hair, and used for making cordage of a very excellent kind, as well as for many other purposes, being nearly incorruptible. It encompasses the stem of the tree, and is seemingly bound to it by thicker fibres or twigs, of which the natives made pens for writing. Toddy is likewise procured from the lontar or Borassus flabellifer, the tala of the Hindus.
This palm, called anau in Sumatra and gomuto by the eastern Malays, is the Borassus gomutus identified by Loureiro, the Saguerus pinnatus mentioned in the Batavian Transactions, and the cleophora noted by Gaertner. Its leaves are long and narrow, and although they naturally taper to a point, they are rarely found to be perfect and are often jagged at the tips. The fruit grows in clusters of thirty or forty, on strands three or four feet long, with several hanging from a single stalk. To collect the nira or toddy (which is considered more valuable than that from the coconut tree), one of these flower stalks is cut off a few inches from the trunk; the remaining part is tied up and tapped, and an incision is made, allowing the liquid to drip into a container or bamboo tube secured below it. This is changed every twenty-four hours. The anau palm also produces a little sago and a unique substance called iju and gomuto, which looks just like coarse black horsehair and is used for making high-quality rope as well as for other various purposes, being almost indestructible. It wraps around the tree’s trunk and appears to be attached by thicker fibers or twigs, which the locals used to make writing pens. Toddy is also collected from the lontar or Borassus flabellifer, known as tala in Hindu culture.
SAGO.
Sago.
The rambiya, puhn sagu, or proper sago tree, is also of the palm kind. Its trunk contains a farinaceous and glutinous pith that, being soaked, dried, and granulated, becomes the sago of our shops, and has been too frequently and accurately described (by Rumphius in particular, Volume 1 chapters 17 and 18, and by M. Poivre) to need a repetition here.
The rambiya, puhn sagu, or true sago tree, is also a type of palm. Its trunk has a starchy and gooey center that, when soaked, dried, and ground, turns into the sago sold in stores. This has been described accurately by several sources (especially Rumphius in Volume 1, chapters 17 and 18, and M. Poivre), so there’s no need to repeat it here.
NIBONG.
Nibong.
The nibong (Caryota urens), another species of palm, grows wild in such abundance as not to need cultivation. The stem is tall, slender, and straight, and, being of a hard texture on the outer part, it is much used for posts in building the slight houses of the country, as well as for paling of a stronger kind than the bamboo usually employed. Withinside it is fibrous and soft and, when hollowed out, being of the nature of a pipe, is well adapted to the purpose of gutters or channels to convey water. The cabbage, as it is termed, or pith at the head of the tree (the germ of the foliage) is eaten as a delicacy, and preferred to that of the coconut.
The nibong (Caryota urens), another type of palm, grows so abundantly in the wild that it doesn't need to be cultivated. The trunk is tall, slender, and straight, and its hard outer texture makes it popular for use as posts in building the simple houses of the region, as well as for stronger fencing than the bamboo typically used. Inside, it is fibrous and soft, and when hollowed out, it acts like a pipe, making it perfect for gutters or channels to carry water. The cabbage, or pith, at the top of the tree (the budding leaves) is eaten as a delicacy and is preferred over that of the coconut.
NIPAH.
Nipah.
The nipah (Cocos nypa, Lour.) a low species of palm, is chiefly valuable for its leaves, which are much used as thatch for the roofs of houses. The pulpy kernels of the fruit (called buah atap) are preserved as a sweetmeat, but are entirely without flavour.
The nipah (Cocos nypa, Lour.) is a low-growing palm tree that is mainly valued for its leaves, which are commonly used for thatching roofs of houses. The soft kernels of the fruit (known as buah atap) are made into a sweet treat, but they have no real flavor.
CYCAS.
Cycad.
The paku bindu (Cycas circinalis) has the general appearance of a young, or rather dwarf coconut-tree, and like that and the nibong produces a cabbage that is much esteemed as a culinary vegetable. The tender shoots are likewise eaten. The stem is short and knobby, the lower part of each branch (if branches they may be called) prickly, and the blossom yellow. The term paku, applied to it by the Malays, shows that they consider it as partaking of the nature of the fern (filix) and Rumphius, who names it Sayor calappa and Olus calappoides, describes it as an arborescent species of osmunda. It is well depicted in Volume 1 table 22.
The paku bindu (Cycas circinalis) looks a lot like a small coconut tree, and like the nibong, it produces a cabbage that's highly valued as a vegetable. The tender shoots are also edible. The stem is short and lumpy, with the lower part of each branch being spiky, and the flowers are yellow. The name "paku," given by the Malays, indicates that they see it as similar to ferns (filix), and Rumphius, who calls it Sayor calappa and Olus calappoides, describes it as a tree-like type of osmunda. It's well shown in Volume 1, table 22.
MAIZE.
CORN.
The maize or turkey-corn (Zea mays), called jagong, though very generally sown, is not cultivated in quantities as an article of food, excepting in the Batta country. The ears are plucked whilst green, and, being slightly roasted on the embers, are eaten as a delicacy. Chili or cayenne pepper (capsicum), called improperly lada panjang or long pepper, and also lada merah, red pepper, which, in preference to the common or black pepper, is used in their curries and with almost every article of their food, always finds a place in their irregular and inartificial gardens. To these indeed their attention is very little directed, in consequence of the liberality with which nature, unsolicited, supplies their wants. Turmeric (curcuma) is a root of general use. Of this there are two kinds, the one called kunyit merah, an indispensable ingredient in their curries, pilaws, and sundry dishes; the other, kunyit tummu (a variety with coloured leaves and a black streak running along the midrib) is esteemed a good yellow dye, and is sometimes employed in medicine. Ginger (Amomum zinziber) is planted in small quantities. Of this also there are two kinds, alia jai (Zinziber majus) and alia padas (Zinziber minus), familiarly called se-pade or se-pudde, from a word signifying that pungent acrid taste in spices which we express by the vague term hot. The tummu (Costus arabicus) and lampuyang (Amomum zerumbet) are found both in the wild and cultivated state, being used medicinally; as is also the galangale (Kaempferia galanga). The coriander, called katumbar, and the cardamum, puah lako, grow in abundance. Of the puah (amomum) they reckon many species, the most common of which has very large leaves, resembling those of the plantain and possessing an aromatic flavour not unlike that of the bay tree. The jintan or cumin-seed (cuminum) is sometimes an ingredient in curries. Of the morunggei or kelor (Guilandina moringa L. Hyperanthera moringa Wilden.), a tall shrub with pinnated leaves, the root has the appearance, flavour, and pungency of the horse-radish, and the long pods are dressed as a culinary vegetable; as are also the young shoots of the pringgi (Cucurbita pepo) various sorts of the lapang or cucumber, and of the lobak or radish. The inei or henna of the Arabians (Lawsonia inermis) is a shrub with small light-green leaves, yielding an expressed juice with which the natives tinge the nails of their hands and feet. Ampalas (Delima sarmentosa and Ficus ampelos) is a shrub whose blossom resembles that of our hawthorn in appearance and smell. Its leaf has an extraordinary roughness, on which account it is employed to give the last fine polish to carvings in wood ivory, particularly the handles and sheaths of their krises, on which they bestow much labour. The leaf of the sipit also, a climbing species of fig, having the same quality, is put to the same use. Ganja or hemp (cannabis) is extensively cultivated, not for the purpose of making rope, to which they never apply it, but to make an intoxicating preparation called bang, which they smoke in pipes along with tobacco. In other parts of India a drink is prepared by bruising the blossoms, young leaves, and tender parts of the stalk. Small plantations of tobacco, which the natives call tambaku, are met with in every part of the country. The leaves are cut whilst green into fine shreds, and afterwards dried in the sun. The species is the same as the Virginian, and, were the quantity increased and people more expert in the method of curing it, a manufacture and trade of considerable importance might be established.
The maize, or turkey-corn (Zea mays), known as jagong, is widely planted but not grown in large amounts for food, except in the Batta country. Ears are picked while they're still green and, when slightly roasted over the embers, are enjoyed as a treat. Chili or cayenne pepper (capsicum), incorrectly called lada panjang or long pepper, and also lada merah or red pepper, is preferred over common or black pepper in their curries and almost every dish, always found in their unstructured and simple gardens. They pay little attention to gardening because nature generously provides for their needs. Turmeric (curcuma) is a commonly used root, with two types: kunyit merah, which is essential in their curries, pilafs, and various dishes, and kunyit tummu, a variety with colored leaves and a black streak along the midrib, valued for its yellow dye and sometimes used in medicine. Ginger (Amomum zinziber) is planted in small amounts, with two kinds: alia jai (Zinziber majus) and alia padas (Zinziber minus), informally called se-pade or se-pudde, a term referring to the sharp taste in spices that we describe as hot. Tummu (Costus arabicus) and lampuyang (Amomum zerumbet) grow both wild and cultivated and are used for medicinal purposes, as is galangale (Kaempferia galanga). Coriander, known as katumbar, and cardamom, puah lako, thrive abundantly. The puah (amomum) has many species, the most common having very large leaves similar to those of plantains and a flavor reminiscent of the bay tree. Jintan or cumin seed (cuminum) is occasionally added to curries. The morunggei or kelor (Guilandina moringa L. Hyperanthera moringa Wilden.), a tall shrub with feather-like leaves, has a root that looks, tastes, and is pungent like horseradish, and its long pods are used as a vegetable; the young shoots of pringgi (Cucurbita pepo), various types of lapang or cucumber, and lobak or radish are also used. The inei or henna from the Arabians (Lawsonia inermis) is a shrub with small light-green leaves that produces a juice used by the locals to tint their nails. Ampalas (Delima sarmentosa and Ficus ampelos) is a shrub with flowers that look and smell like our hawthorn. Its leaves are extraordinarily rough, making them useful for giving a final polish to wood and ivory carvings, especially on the handles and sheaths of their krises, which they labor over. The leaves of the sipit, a climbing fig species with the same rough texture, are used similarly. Ganja or hemp (cannabis) is widely cultivated, not to make rope, which they don’t use it for, but to create an intoxicating preparation called bang, smoked in pipes with tobacco. In other parts of India, a drink is made by crushing the blossoms, young leaves, and tender parts of the stalk. Small tobacco plantations, known locally as tambaku, can be found throughout the country. The leaves are cut while still green into fine shreds and then dried in the sun. This tobacco is the same as the Virginian variety, and if production increased and people became more skilled at curing it, a significant industry and trade could be developed.
PULAS TWINE.
PULAS TWINE.
The kaluwi is a species of urtica or nettle of which excellent twine called pulas is made. It grows to the height of about four feet, has a stem imperfectly ligneous, without branches. When cut down, dried, and beaten, the rind is stripped off and then twisted as we do the hemp. It affords me great satisfaction to learn that the manufacture of rope from this useful plant has lately attracted the attention of the Company's Government, and that a considerable nursery of the kaluwi has been established in the Botanic Garden at Calcutta, under the zealous and active management of Dr. Roxburgh, who expresses his opinion that so soon as a method shall be discovered of removing a viscid matter found to adhere to the fibres the kaluwi hemp, or pulas, will supersede every other material. The bagu-tree (Gnetum gnemon, L.) abounds on the southern coast of the island, where its bark is beaten, like hemp, and the twine manufactured from it is employed in the construction of large fishing nets. The young leaves of the tree are dressed in curries. In the island of Nias they make a twine of the baru-tree (Hibiscus tiliaceus), which is afterwards woven into a coarse cloth for bags. From the pisang (musa) a kind of sewing-thread is procured by stripping filaments from the midribs of the leaves, as well as from the stem. In some places this thread is worked in the loom. The kratau, a dwarf species of mulberry (morus, foliis profunde incisis) is planted for the food of the silkworms, which they rear, but not to any great extent, and the raw silk produced from them seems of but an indifferent quality. The samples I have seen were white instead of yellow, in large, flat cakes, which would require much trouble to wind off, and the filaments appeared coarse; but this may be partly occasioned by the method of loosening them from the bags, which is by steeping them in hot water. Jarak (ricinus and Palma christi), from whence the castor oil is extracted, grows wild in abundance: especially near the sea-shore. Bijin (Sesamum indicum) is sown extensively in the interior districts for the oil it produces, which is there used for burning in place of the coconut-oil so common near the coast.
The kaluwi is a type of nettle used to make a strong twine called pulas. It grows about four feet tall, has a somewhat woody stem, and no branches. When it’s cut down, dried, and beaten, the outer layer is removed and then twisted like hemp. I'm really pleased to hear that the production of rope from this useful plant has recently gained the attention of the Company's Government, and a significant nursery of kaluwi has been set up in the Botanic Garden in Calcutta, managed with enthusiasm by Dr. Roxburgh. He believes that once a way to remove a sticky substance adhering to the fibers is found, kaluwi hemp, or pulas, will replace every other material. The bagu-tree (Gnetum gnemon, L.) grows abundantly on the southern coast of the island, where its bark is processed like hemp, and the twine made from it is used to construct large fishing nets. The young leaves of the tree are used in curries. On the island of Nias, they produce a twine from the baru-tree (Hibiscus tiliaceus), which is then woven into rough cloth for bags. The pisang (musa) provides a kind of sewing thread by stripping fibers from the midribs of the leaves and the stem. In some areas, this thread is worked into fabric. The kratau, a dwarf type of mulberry (morus, foliis profunde incisis), is grown to feed silkworms, though not on a large scale, and the raw silk they produce seems to be of mediocre quality. The samples I’ve seen were white rather than yellow, in large, flat cakes, which would be quite a hassle to unwind, and the fibers appeared coarse; however, this may be partly due to the method used to loosen them from the bags, which involves soaking them in hot water. Jarak (ricinus and Palma christi), from which castor oil is obtained, grows abundantly in the wild, especially near the coast. Bijin (Sesamum indicum) is widely cultivated in the inland areas for the oil it produces, which is used for lighting instead of the coconut oil that is so common near the coast.
ELASTIC GUM.
Elastic gum.
In the description of the Urceola elastica, or caout-chouc-vine, of Sumatra and Pulo Pinang, by Dr. W. Roxburgh, in the Asiatic Researches Volume 5 page 167, he says, "For the discovery of this useful vine we are, I believe, indebted to Mr. Howison, late surgeon at Pulo Pinang; but it would appear he had no opportunity of determining its botanical character. To Dr. Charles Campbell of Fort Marlborough we owe the gratification arising from a knowledge thereof. About twelve months ago I received from that gentleman, by means of Mr. Fleming, very complete specimens, in full foliage, flower, and fruit. From these I was enabled to reduce it to its class and order in the Linnean system. It forms new genus immediately after tabernaemontana, and consequently belongs to the class called contortae. One of the qualities of the plants of this order is their yielding, on being cut, a juice which is generally milky, and for the most part deemed of a poisonous nature." Of another plant, producing a similar substance, I received the following information from Mr. Campbell, in a letter dated in November, 1803: "You may remember a trailing plant with a small yellowish flower and a seed vessel of an oblong form, containing one seed; the whole plant resembling much the caout-chouc. To this, finding it wholly nondescript, I have taken the liberty to attach your name. It has no relationship to a genus yielding a similar substance, of which I sent a specimen to Dr. Roxburgh at Bengal, who published an account of it under the name of urceola. It is called jintan by the Malays, and of its three species I have accurately ascertained two, the jintan itam and jintan burong, the latter very rare. Its leaves are of a deep glossy green, and the flowers lightly tinged with a pale yellow; it belongs to the tetrandria, and is a handsome plant--but more of this with the drawing." Unfortunately however neither this drawing nor any part of his valuable collection of materials for improving the natural history of that interesting country, which he bequeathed to me by his will, have yet reached my hands.
In Dr. W. Roxburgh's description of the Urceola elastica, or caout-chouc vine, from Sumatra and Pulo Pinang, found in Asiatic Researches Volume 5, page 167, he states, "We owe the discovery of this useful vine to Mr. Howison, the late surgeon at Pulo Pinang; however, it seems he never had the chance to identify its botanical classification. We can thank Dr. Charles Campbell of Fort Marlborough for the satisfaction that comes from knowing it. About a year ago, I received very complete specimens with full foliage, flowers, and fruit from him, through Mr. Fleming. From these specimens, I was able to classify it in the Linnean system. It forms a new genus right after tabernaemontana and thus belongs to the class called contortae. One characteristic of plants in this order is their production of a milky juice that is often considered poisonous when cut.” Regarding another plant that produces a similar substance, I received the following information from Mr. Campbell in a letter dated November 1803: “You may recall a trailing plant with small yellowish flowers and an oblong seed vessel containing a single seed; the whole plant closely resembles caout-chouc. Since I found it completely nondescript, I've taken the liberty to attach your name to it. It has no relation to the genus that produces a similar substance, for which I sent a specimen to Dr. Roxburgh in Bengal, who published it under the name urceola. The Malays call it jintan, and I have accurately identified two of its three species: jintan itam and jintan burong, the latter being quite rare. Its leaves are a deep glossy green, and the flowers have a hint of pale yellow; it belongs to the tetrandria class and is a beautiful plant—but more on that with the drawing.” Unfortunately, neither this drawing nor any part of his valuable collection of materials for advancing the natural history of that fascinating country, which he left to me in his will, have yet arrived in my possession.
GUM.
Chewing gum.
Mr. Charles Miller observed in the country near Bencoolen a gum exuding spontaneously from the paty tree, which appeared very much to resemble the gum-arabic; and, as they belong to the same genus of plants, he thought it not improbable that this gum might be used for the same purposes. In the list of new species by F. Norona (Batavian Transactions Volume 5) he gives to the pete of Java the name of Acacia gigantea; which I presume to be the same plant.
Mr. Charles Miller noticed in the countryside near Bencoolen a gum oozing naturally from the paty tree, which looked a lot like gum arabic. Since they belong to the same plant genus, he figured it was likely that this gum could be used for similar purposes. In the list of new species by F. Norona (Batavian Transactions Volume 5), he refers to the pete of Java as Acacia gigantea, which I assume is the same plant.
PULSE.
Beats.
Kachang is a term applied to all sorts of pulse, of which a great variety is cultivated; as the kachang china (Dolichos sinensis), kachang putih (Dolichos katjang), k. ka-karah (D. lignosus), k. kechil (Phaseolus radiatus), k. ka-karah gatal (Dolichos pruriens) and many others. The kachang tanah (Arachis hypogaea) is of a different class, being the granulose roots (or, according to some, the self-buried pods) of a herb with a yellow, papilionaceous flower, the leaves of which have some resemblance to the clover, but double only, and, like it, affords rice pasture for cattle. The seeds are always eaten fried or parched, from whence they obtain their common appellation of kachang goring.
Kachang is a term used for all kinds of pulses, which include a wide variety cultivated; such as kachang china (Dolichos sinensis), kachang putih (Dolichos katjang), kachang ka-karah (D. lignosus), kachang kechil (Phaseolus radiatus), kachang ka-karah gatal (Dolichos pruriens), and many others. The kachang tanah (Arachis hypogaea) falls into a different category, being the granular roots (or, according to some, the self-buried pods) of a herb with yellow, butterfly-shaped flowers, whose leaves resemble clover, but are double, and like clover, it provides pasture for cattle. The seeds are typically eaten fried or roasted, which is how they get their common name kachang goring.
YAMS.
Yams.
The variety of roots of the yam and potato kind, under the general name of ubi, is almost endless; the dioscorea being generally termed ubi kechil (small), and the convolvulus ubi gadang (large); some of which latter, of the sort called at Bencoolen the China-yam, weigh as much as forty pounds, and are distinguished into the white and the purple. The fruit of the trong (melongena), of which the egg-plant is one species, is much eaten by the natives, split and fried. They are commonly known by the name of brinjals, from the beringelhas of the Portuguese.
The different types of yam and potato roots, generally called ubi, are nearly limitless; with dioscorea usually referred to as ubi kechil (small) and convolvulus as ubi gadang (large). Some of the latter, known locally in Bencoolen as China-yam, can weigh up to forty pounds and come in white and purple varieties. The fruit of the trong (melongena), of which the eggplant is one type, is commonly eaten by locals when split and fried. They are often called brinjals, derived from the Portuguese word beringelhas.
DYE-STUFFS.
Dyes.
INDIGO.
Indigo.
Tarum or indigo (Indigofera tinctoria) being the principal dye-stuff they employ, the shrub is always found in their planted spots; but they do not manufacture it into a solid substance, as is the practice elsewhere. The stalks and branches having lain for some days in water to soak and macerate, they then boil it, and work among it with their hands a small quantity of chunam (quick lime, from shells), with leaves of the paku sabba (a species of fern) for fixing the colour. It is afterwards drained off, and made use of in the liquid state.
Tarum or indigo (Indigofera tinctoria) is the main dye they use, so the shrub is always found in their cultivated areas. However, they don’t convert it into a solid form like is done in other places. The stalks and branches are soaked in water for several days to macerate, then they boil it and mix in a small amount of chunam (quicklime made from shells) along with leaves from the paku sabba (a type of fern) to help set the color. After that, it’s drained and used in liquid form.
There is another kind of indigo, called in Sumatra tarum akar, which appears to be peculiar to that country, and was totally unknown to botanists to whom I showed the leaves upon my return to England in the beginning of the year 1780. The common kind is known to have small pinnated leaves growing on stalks imperfectly ligneous. This, on the contrary, is a vine, or climbing plant, with leaves from three to five inches in length, thin, of a dark green, and in the dried state discoloured with blue stains. It yields the same dye as the former sort; they are prepared also in the same manner, and used indiscriminately, no preference being given to the one above the other, as the natives informed me, excepting inasmuch as the tarum akar, by reason of the largeness of the foliage, yields a greater proportion of sediment. Conceiving it might prove a valuable plant in our colonies, and that it was of importance in the first instance that its identity and class should be accurately ascertained, I procured specimens of its fructification, and deposited them in the rich and extensively useful collection of my friend Sir Joseph Banks. In a paper on the Asclepiadeae, highly interesting to botanical science, communicated by Mr. Robert Brown (who has lately explored the vegetable productions of New Holland and other parts of the East) to the Wernerian Society of Edinburgh, and printed in their Transactions, he has done me the honour of naming the genus to which this plant belongs, MARSDENIA, and this particular species Marsdenia tinctoria.*
There's another type of indigo, known in Sumatra as tarum akar, which seems to be unique to that region and was completely unknown to the botanists I showed the leaves to when I got back to England at the beginning of 1780. The common type is recognized by its small, pinnate leaves growing on somewhat woody stalks. This one, on the other hand, is a vine or climbing plant, with leaves that are three to five inches long, thin, dark green, and stained blue when dried. It produces the same dye as the other type; they’re processed in the same way and used interchangeably, with no preference for one over the other, according to the locals, except that the tarum akar, due to its larger leaves, produces more sediment. Thinking it might be a valuable plant for our colonies and that it was essential to confirm its identity and classification first, I collected samples of its fruiting parts and added them to the rich and valuable collection of my friend Sir Joseph Banks. In a paper on the Asclepiadeae, which is quite interesting for botanical science, shared by Mr. Robert Brown (who has recently explored the plant life of New Holland and other areas of the East) with the Wernerian Society of Edinburgh, and published in their Transactions, he honored me by naming the genus of this plant MARSDENIA and this specific species Marsdenia tinctoria.*
(*Footnote. 2. M. caule volubili, foliis cordatis ovato-oblongis acuminatis glabriusculis basi antice glandulosis, thyrsis lateralibus, fauce barbata. Tarram akkar Marsd. Sumat. page 78 edition 2 Hab. In insula Sumatra. (v.s. in Herb. Banks.)
(*Footnote. 2. M. with a climbing stem, cordate leaves that are oval-oblong and pointed, slightly hairless, and glandular at the front base, with lateral clusters of flowers and a hairy throat. Tarram akkar Marsd. Sumat. page 78 edition 2. Found in Sumatra. (see in Herb. Banks.)
KASUMBA.
KASUMBA.
Under the name of kasumba are included two plants yielding materials for dyeing, but very different from each other. The kasumba (simply) or kasumba jawa, as it is sometimes called, is the Carthamus tinctorius, of which the flowers are used to produce a saffron colour, as the name imports. The kasumba kling or galuga is the Bixa orellana, or arnotto of the West Indies. Of this the capsule, about an inch in length, is covered with soft prickles or hair, opens like a bivalve shell, and contains in its cavities a dozen or more seeds, the size of grape-stones, thickly covered with a reddish farina, which is the part that constitutes the dye.
Under the name kasumba are two different plants that produce materials for dyeing. The kasumba (or kasumba jawa, as it's sometimes called) refers to the Carthamus tinctorius, whose flowers are used to create a saffron color, as the name suggests. The kasumba kling, or galuga, is the Bixa orellana, also known as annatto from the West Indies. This plant has a capsule about an inch long, covered in soft prickles or hairs, which opens like a bivalve shell. Inside, it holds a dozen or more seeds, the size of grape pits, coated in a reddish powder that is used for dye.
Sapang, the Brazil-wood, (Caesalpinia sappan), whether indigenous or not, is common in the Malayan countries. The heart of this being cut into chips, steeped for a considerable time in water, and then boiled, is used for dying here, as in other countries. The cloth or thread is repeatedly dipped in this liquid, and hung to dry between each wetting till it is brought to the shade required. To fix the colour alum is added in the boiling.
Sapang, the Brazil wood (Caesalpinia sappan), whether native or not, is commonly found in Malaysia and surrounding countries. The heartwood is cut into chips, soaked in water for a long time, and then boiled to be used for dyeing, just like in other nations. The fabric or thread is dipped multiple times in this liquid and hung to dry in between each dip until it reaches the desired shade. To set the color, alum is added during the boiling process.
Of the tree called bangkudu in some districts, and in others mangkudu (Morinda umbellata) the outward parts of the root, being dried, pounded, and boiled in water, afford a red dye, for fixing which the ashes procured from the stalks of the fruit and midribs of the leaves of the coconut are employed. Sometimes the bark or wood of the sapang tree is mixed with these roots. It is to be observed that another species of bangkudu, with broader leaves (Morinda citrifolia) does not yield any colouring matter, but is, as I apprehend, the tree commonly planted in the Malayan peninsula and in Pulo Pinang as a support to the pepper-vine.
Of the tree known as bangkudu in some areas and mangkudu in others (Morinda umbellata), the outer parts of the root, when dried, pounded, and boiled in water, produce a red dye. To fix this dye, ashes from the stalks of the fruit and midribs of the coconut leaves are used. Sometimes, the bark or wood of the sapang tree is added to these roots. It's worth noting that another type of bangkudu, with broader leaves (Morinda citrifolia), doesn’t produce any color, but it seems to be the tree commonly planted in the Malay Peninsula and Pulo Pinang to support the pepper vine.
RED-WOOD.
Redwood.
Ubar is a red-wood resembling the logwood (haematoxylon) of Honduras, and might probably be employed for the same purpose. It is used by the natives in tanning twine for fishing nets, and appears to be the okir or Tanarius major of Rumphius, Volume 3 page 192, and Jambolifera rezinoso of Lour. Fl. C. C. page 231. Their black dye is commonly made from the coats of the mangostin-fruit and of the kataping (Terminalia catappa). With this the blue cloth from the west of India is changed to a black, as usually worn by the Malays of Menangkabau. It is said to be steeped in mud in order to fix the colour.
Ubar is a red wood that looks like the logwood (haematoxylon) found in Honduras, and it might be used for similar purposes. The locals use it to tan twine for fishing nets, and it seems to be the okir or Tanarius major mentioned by Rumphius in Volume 3, page 192, and Jambolifera rezinoso by Lour. in Fl. C. C., page 231. They commonly make their black dye from the shells of the mangosteen fruit and the kataping (Terminalia catappa). This dye is used to turn the blue cloth from western India into black, as typically worn by the Malays of Menangkabau. It’s said to be soaked in mud to set the color.
The roots of the chapada or champadak (Artocarpus integrifolia) cut into chips and boiled in water produce a yellow dye. To strengthen the tint a little turmeric (the kunyit tumma or variety of curcuma already spoken of) is mixed with it, and alum to fix it; but as the yellow does not hold well it is necessary that the operation of steeping and drying should be frequently repeated.
The roots of the chapada or champadak (Artocarpus integrifolia) are chopped into small pieces and boiled in water to create a yellow dye. To enhance the color, a bit of turmeric (the kunyit tumma or type of curcuma mentioned earlier) is mixed in along with alum to set the dye; however, since the yellow doesn't hold well, it's necessary to repeat the process of soaking and drying frequently.
CHAPTER 5.
FRUITS, FLOWERS, MEDICINAL SHRUBS AND HERBS.
FRUITS, FLOWERS, MEDICINAL SHRUBS AND HERBS.
FRUITS.
Fruits.
Nature, says a celebrated writer,* seems to have taken a pleasure in assembling in the Malayan countries her most favourite productions; and with truth I think it may be affirmed that no region of the earth can boast an equal abundance and variety of indigenous fruits; for although the whole of those hereafter enumerated cannot be considered as such, yet there is reason to conclude that the greater part may, for the natives, who never appear to bestow the smallest labour in improving or even in cultivating such as they naturally possess, can hardly be suspected of taking the pains to import exotics. The larger number grow wild, and the rest are planted in a careless, irregular manner about their villages.
Nature, as a famous writer once said, seems to enjoy bringing together her most favored creations in the Malayan countries. I think it’s true that no other place on Earth can claim such a rich abundance and variety of native fruits. While not all the fruits listed here can be considered indigenous, it’s reasonable to conclude that most of them are, since the locals rarely put any effort into improving or even cultivating what they naturally have. They hardly seem likely to go through the trouble of importing exotic fruits. The majority grow wild, and the others are planted casually and haphazardly around their villages.
(*Footnote. Les terres possedees par les Malais, sont en general de tres bonne qualite. La nature semble avoir pris plaisir d'y placer ses plus excellentes productions. On y voit tous les fruits delicieux que j'ai dit se trouver sur le territoire de Siam, et une multitude d'autres fruits agreables qui sont particuliers a ces isles. On y respire un air embaume par une multitude de fleurs agreables qui se succedent toute l'annee, et dont l'odeur suave penetre jusqu'a l'ame, et inspire la volupte la plus seduisante. Il n'est point de voyageur qui en se promenant dans les campagnes de Malacca, ne se sente invite a fixer son sejour dans un lieu si plein d'agremens, dont la nature seule a fait tous les frais. Voyages d'un Philosophe par M. Poivre page 56.)
(*Footnote. The land owned by the Malays is generally of very high quality. Nature seems to have taken pleasure in placing its finest products there. You can find all the delicious fruits I mentioned as being in the territory of Siam, along with a multitude of other delightful fruits that are unique to these islands. The air is filled with a variety of pleasant flowers that bloom throughout the year, their sweet fragrance reaching deep into the soul and inspiring the most seductive pleasures. No traveler walking through the countryside of Malacca can resist the temptation to settle in such a charming place, created entirely by nature. Travels of a Philosopher by M. Poivre page 56.)
MANGUSTIN.
Mangosteen.
The mangustin, called by the natives manggis and manggista (Garcinia mangostana, L.) is the pride of these countries, to which it exclusively belongs, and has, by general consent, obtained, in the opinion of Europeans, the pre-eminence amongst Indian fruits. Its characteristic quality is extreme delicacy of flavour, without being rich or luscious. It is a drupe of a brownish-red colour, and the size of a common apple, consisting of a thick rind, somewhat hard on the outside, but soft and succulent within, encompassing kernels which are covered with a juicy and perfectly white pulp, which is the part eaten, or, more properly, sucked, for it dissolves in the mouth. Its qualities are as innocent as they are grateful, and the fruit may be eaten in any moderate quantity without danger of surfeit, or other injurious effects. The returns of its season appeared to be irregular, and the periods short.
The mangosteen, known locally as manggis and manggista (Garcinia mangostana, L.), is a source of pride in these countries where it exclusively grows. Europeans generally agree that it stands out among Indian fruits. Its defining characteristic is its incredibly delicate flavor, which isn't overly rich or sweet. The fruit is a brownish-red drupe, about the size of a typical apple, featuring a thick rind that's somewhat hard on the outside but soft and juicy on the inside. Inside, it contains kernels surrounded by a juicy, perfectly white pulp that is the edible part—more accurately, it’s sucked, as it melts in your mouth. Its qualities are as harmless as they are delightful, and you can eat it in moderation without any risk of overindulgence or negative effects. However, the fruit's season seems inconsistent and brief.
DURIAN.
Durian.
The durian (Durio zibethinus) is also peculiar to the Malayan countries. It is a rich fruit but strong and even offensive in taste as well as smell, to those who are not accustomed to it, and of a very heating quality; yet the natives (and others who fall into their habits) are passionately addicted to it, and during the time of its continuing in season live almost wholly upon its luscious and cream-like pulp; whilst the rinds, thrown about in the bazaars, communicate their scent to the surrounding atmosphere. The tree is large and lofty; the leaves are small in proportion, but in themselves long and pointed. The blossoms grow in clusters on the stem and larger branches. The petals are five, of a yellowish-white, surrounding five branches of stamina, each bunch containing about twelve, and each stamen having four antherae. The pointal is knobbed at top. When the stamina and petal fall, the empalement resembles a fungus, and nearly in shape a Scot's bonnet. The fruit is in its general appearance not unlike the bread-fruit, but larger, and its coat is rougher.
The durian (Durio zibethinus) is also unique to the Malaysian countries. It’s a rich fruit but has a strong and even off-putting taste and smell for those who aren’t used to it, and it’s very warming in nature. However, the locals (and others who adopt their habits) are extremely fond of it, and during its season, they almost exclusively eat its delicious, creamy pulp. The rinds, scattered around the markets, fill the air with their strong scent. The tree is large and tall; its leaves are relatively small but long and pointed. The flowers grow in clusters on the trunk and larger branches. The petals are five in number, yellowish-white in color, surrounding five groups of stamens, with each cluster containing about twelve and each stamen having four anthers. The style is knobbed at the top. When the stamens and petals drop off, what’s left looks like a mushroom, almost like a Scottish bonnet. The fruit itself looks somewhat similar to breadfruit, but it's larger and has a rougher exterior.
BREAD-FRUIT.
Breadfruit.
The sutun kapas, and sukun biji or kalawi, are two species of the bread-fruit-tree (Artocarpus incisa). The former is the genuine, edible kind, without kernels, and propagated by cuttings of the roots. Though by no means uncommon, it is said not to be properly a native of Sumatra. The kalawi, on the contrary, is in great abundance, and its bark supplies the country people with a sort of cloth for their working dresses. The leaves of both species are deeply indented, like those of the fig, but considerably longer. The bread-fruit is cut in slices, and, being boiled or broiled on the fire, is eaten with sugar, and much esteemed. It cannot however be considered as an article of food, and I suspect that in quality it is inferior to the bread-fruit of the South-Sea Islands.
The sutun kapas and sukun biji, or kalawi, are two types of breadfruit trees (Artocarpus incisa). The former is the true edible variety, which has no seeds and is grown from root cuttings. Although it’s not rare, it's said to not be a true native of Sumatra. In contrast, the kalawi is very common, and its bark is used by local people to make a kind of cloth for their work clothes. The leaves of both types are deeply lobed, similar to fig leaves, but much longer. The breadfruit is sliced and eaten boiled or grilled, often with sugar, and is quite popular. However, it can't really be considered a staple food, and I think its quality doesn’t match that of the breadfruit found in the South Sea Islands.
JACK-FRUIT.
Jackfruit.
The Malabaric name of jacca, or the jack-fruit, is applied both to the champadak or chapada (Artocarpus integrifolia, L. and Polyphema jaca, Lour.) and to the nangka (Artocarpus integrifolia, L. and Polyphema champeden, Lour). Of the former the leaves are smooth and pointed; of the latter they are roundish, resembling those of the cashew. This is the more common, less esteemed, and larger fruit, weighing, in some instances, fifty or sixty pounds. Both grow in a peculiar manner from the stem of the tree. The outer coat is rough, containing a number of seeds or kernels (which, when roasted, have the taste of chestnuts) inclosed in a fleshy substance of a rich, and, to strangers, too strong smell and flavour, but which gains upon the palate. When the fruit ripens the natives cover it with mats or the like to preserve it from injury by the birds. Of the viscous juice of this tree they make a kind of birdlime: the yellow wood is employed for various purposes, and the root yields a dye-stuff.
The Malabaric name for jacca, or jackfruit, refers to both champadak (Artocarpus integrifolia, L. and Polyphema jaca, Lour.) and nangka (Artocarpus integrifolia, L. and Polyphema champeden, Lour). The leaves of the former are smooth and pointed, while the latter has roundish leaves that look like those of the cashew. The nangka is the more common, less prized, and larger fruit, sometimes weighing fifty or sixty pounds. Both fruits grow in a unique way directly from the tree’s trunk. The outer skin is rough and has many seeds or kernels inside (which taste like roasted chestnuts) surrounded by a fleshy substance that has a rich, strong smell and flavor that can be overpowering to newcomers but becomes more enjoyable over time. When the fruit ripens, locals cover it with mats or similar materials to protect it from birds. They make a type of bird-lime from the sticky juice of this tree; the yellow wood is used for various applications, and the root produces a dye.
MANGO.
Mango.
The mango, called mangga and mampalam (Mangifera indica, L.) is well known to be a rich, high-flavoured fruit of the plumb kind, and is found here in great perfection; but there are many inferior varieties beside the ambachang, or Mangifera foetida, and the tais.
The mango, known as mangga and mampalam (Mangifera indica, L.), is famous for being a delicious, high-flavored fruit that resembles a plum and is found here in great quality. However, there are many lesser varieties in addition to the ambachang, or Mangifera foetida, and the tais.
JAMBU.
Jambu.
Of the jambu (eugenia, L.) there are several species, among which the jambu merah or kling (Eugenia malaccensis) is the most esteemed for the table, and is also the largest. In shape it has some resemblance to the pear, but is not so taper near the stalk. The outer skin, which is very fine, is tinged with a deep and beautiful red, the inside being perfectly white. Nearly the whole substance is edible, and when properly ripe it is a delicious fruit; but otherwise, it is spongy and indigestible. In smell and even in taste it partakes much of the flavour of the rose; but this quality belongs more especially to another species, called jambu ayer mawar, or the rose-water jambu. Nothing can be more beautiful than the blossoms, the long and numerous stamina of which are of a bright pink colour. The tree grows in a handsome, regular, conical shape, and has large, deep-green, pointed leaves. The jambu ayer (Eugenia aquea) is a delicate and beautiful fruit in appearance, the colour being a mixture of white and pink; but in its flavour, which is a faint, agreeable acid, it does not equal the jambu merah.
Of the jambu (eugenia, L.), there are several species, among which the jambu merah or kling (Eugenia malaccensis) is the most valued for eating and is also the largest. It somewhat resembles a pear but isn't as tapered near the stem. The outer skin is very thin and has a deep, beautiful red color, while the inside is perfectly white. Almost the entire fruit is edible, and when it's fully ripe, it is delicious; however, if it's not ripe, it can be spongy and hard to digest. In terms of smell and taste, it has a lot in common with the flavor of a rose, although this characteristic is particularly prominent in another variety called jambu ayer mawar, or the rose-water jambu. The blossoms are incredibly beautiful, with long and numerous stamens that are a bright pink color. The tree itself grows in a lovely, regular conical shape and has large, deep-green, pointed leaves. The jambu ayer (Eugenia aquea) is a delicate and pretty fruit, with a color that blends white and pink; however, its flavor, which is a light, pleasant acidity, doesn't match that of the jambu merah.
PLANTAIN.
Plantain.
Of the pisang, or plantain (Musa paradisiaca, L.) the natives reckon above twenty varieties, including the banana of the West Indies. Among these the pisang amas, or small yellow plantain, is esteemed the most delicate; and next to that the pisang raja, pisang dingen, and pisang kalle.
Of the pisang, or plantain (Musa paradisiaca, L.), the locals recognize over twenty varieties, including the West Indies banana. Among these, the pisang amas, or small yellow plantain, is considered the most delicate; and following that are the pisang raja, pisang dingen, and pisang kalle.
Pineapple.
Pineapple.
The nanas, or pineapple (Bromelia ananas), though certainly not indigenous, grows here in great plenty with the most ordinary culture. Some think them inferior to those produced from hothouses in England; but this opinion may be influenced by the smallness of their price, which does not exceed two or three pence. With equal attention it is probable they might be rendered much superior, and their variety is considerable. The natives eat them with salt.
The pineapples (Bromelia ananas), while not native, grow abundantly here with just basic care. Some people believe they're not as good as those grown in hothouses in England, but this view might be swayed by their low price, which is only two or three pence. With the same level of attention, they could probably be made much better, and there are many varieties. The locals eat them with salt.
ORANGES.
Oranges.
Oranges (limau manis) of many sorts, are in the highest perfection. That called limau japan, or Japan orange, is a fine fruit, not commonly known in Europe. In this the cloves adhere but slightly to each other, and scarcely at all to the rind, which contains an unusual quantity of the essential oil. The limau gadang, or pumple-nose (Citrus aurantium), called in the West Indies the shaddock (from the name of the captain who carried them thither), is here very fine, and distinguished into the white and red sorts. Limes or limau kapas, and lemons, limau kapas panjang, are in abundance. The natives enumerate also the limau langga, limau kambing, limau pipit, limau sindi masam, and limau sindi manis. The true citron, or limau karbau, is not common nor in esteem.
Oranges (sweet oranges) of many kinds are at their best. The one known as the Japan orange is a great fruit that isn’t well-known in Europe. Here, the cloves stick together only loosely and barely cling to the peel, which has a surprising amount of essential oil. The pomelo (Citrus aurantium), called shaddock in the West Indies after the captain who brought them over, is very good here and comes in white and red varieties. Limes (kapas limes) and lemons (long kapas limes) are plentiful. The locals also mention langga lime, kambing lime, pipit lime, sour sindi lime, and sweet sindi lime. The true citron (karbau lime) is neither common nor highly regarded.
GUAVA.
GUAVA.
The guava (Psidium pomiferum) called jambu biji, and also jambu protukal (for Portugal, in consequence, as we may presume, of its having been introduced by the people of that country) has a flavour which some admire, and others equally dislike. The pulp of the red sort is sometimes mixed with cream by Europeans, to imitate strawberries, from a fond partiality to the productions of their native soil; and it is not unusual, amidst a profusion of the richest eastern fruits, to sigh for an English codling or gooseberry.
The guava (Psidium pomiferum), known as jambu biji and also jambu protukal (likely because it was brought over by the Portuguese), has a flavor that some people love and others really don’t like. Europeans sometimes mix the pulp of the red variety with cream to mimic strawberries, out of a strong preference for the fruits from their homeland; and it’s not uncommon, even with a wide variety of rich tropical fruits available, to long for an English apple or gooseberry.
CUSTARD-APPLE.
Cherimoya.
The siri kaya, or custard-apple (Annona squamosa), derives its name from the likeness which its white and rich pulp bears to a custard, and it is accordingly eaten with a spoon. The nona, as it is called by the natives (Annona reticulata), is another species of the same fruit, but not so grateful to the taste.
The siri kaya, or custard-apple (Annona squamosa), gets its name from how its white and creamy pulp resembles custard, and it's typically eaten with a spoon. The nona, as the locals call it (Annona reticulata), is another type of the same fruit, but it's not as appealing to the taste.
PAPAW.
Grandpa.
The kaliki, or papaw (Carica papaja), is a large, substantial, and wholesome fruit, in appearance not unlike a smooth sort of melon, but not very highly flavoured. The pulp is of a reddish yellow, and the seeds, which are about the size of grains of pepper, have a hot taste like cresses. The watermelon, called here samangka (Cucurbita citrullus) is of very fine quality. The rock or musk-melons, are not common.
The kaliki, or papaya (Carica papaya), is a large, substantial, and nutritious fruit that looks somewhat like a smooth melon but isn’t very flavorful. The flesh is a reddish-yellow color, and the seeds, which are about the size of peppercorns, have a spicy taste similar to cress. The watermelon, known here as samangka (Cucurbita citrullus), is of excellent quality. Rock or musk melons are not common.
TAMARIND.
Tamarind.
Tamarinds, called asam jawa, or the Javan acid, are the produce of a large and noble tree, with small pinnated leaves, and supply a grateful relief in fevers, which too frequently require it. The natives preserve them with salt, and use them as an acid ingredient in their curries and other dishes. It may be remarked that in general they are not fond of sweets, and prefer many of their fruits whilst green to the same in their ripe state.
Tamarinds, known as asam jawa or Javan acid, come from a large, impressive tree with small feathery leaves. They provide welcome relief during fevers, which often call for it. The locals preserve them with salt and use them as a sour element in their curries and other dishes. It's worth noting that generally, they don't have a sweet tooth and prefer many of their fruits while they're still green rather than when they're ripe.
RAMBUTAN.
Rambutan.
The rambutan (Nephelium lappaceum, L. Mant.) is in appearance not much unlike the fruit of the arbutus, but larger, of a brighter red, and covered with coarser hair or soft spines, from whence it derives its name. The part eaten is a gelatinous and almost transparent pulp surrounding the kernel, of a rich and pleasant acid.
The rambutan (Nephelium lappaceum, L. Mant.) looks a lot like the fruit of the arbutus, but it’s bigger, a brighter red, and is covered in thicker hair or soft spines, which is how it got its name. The part you eat is a gelatinous, almost transparent pulp around the seed, with a rich and enjoyable tart flavor.
LANSEH.
LANSEH.
The lanseh, likewise but little known to botanists, is a small oval fruit, of a whitish-brown colour, which, being deprived of its thin outer coat, divides into five cloves, of which the kernels are covered with a fleshy pulp, subacid, and agreeable to the taste. The skin contains a clammy juice, extremely bitter, and, if not stripped with care, it is apt to communicate its quality to the pulp. M. Correa de Serra, in les Annales du Museum d'Histoire Naturelle Tome 10 page 157 plate 7, has given a description of the Lansium domesticum from specimens of the fruit preserved in the collection of Sir Joseph Banks. The chupak, ayer-ayer, and rambe are species or varieties of the same fruit.
The lanseh, which is also not well-known to botanists, is a small oval fruit that has a whitish-brown color. When its thin outer skin is removed, it splits into five sections, with the seeds surrounded by a fleshy pulp that is slightly sour and pleasant to taste. The skin has a sticky juice that is very bitter and can transfer its bitterness to the pulp if it's not peeled carefully. M. Correa de Serra, in les Annales du Museum d'Histoire Naturelle Tome 10 page 157 plate 7, provided a description of the Lansium domesticum based on fruit samples collected by Sir Joseph Banks. The chupak, ayer-ayer, and rambe are varieties or species of the same fruit.
BLIMBING.
BLIMBING.
Of the blimbing (Averrhoa carambola) a pentagonal fruit, containing five flattish seeds, and extremely acid, there are two sorts, called penjuru and besi. The leaves of the latter are small, opposite, and of a sapgreen; those of the former grow promiscuously and are of a silver green. There is also the blimbing bulu (Averrhoa billimbi), or smooth species. Their uses are chiefly in cookery, and for purposes where a strong acid is required, as in cleaning the blades of their krises and bringing out the damask, for which they are so much admired. The cheremi (Averrhoa acida) is nearly allied to the blimbing besi, but the fruit is smaller, of an irregular shape, growing in clusters close to the branch, and containing each a single hard seed or stone. It is a common substitute for our acid fruits in tarts.
The blimbing (Averrhoa carambola) is a pentagonal fruit that has five flat seeds and is very sour. There are two varieties called penjuru and besi. The leaves of the besi are small, opposite, and a sap-green color, while the leaves of the penjuru grow randomly and are a silver-green shade. There's also the blimbing bulu (Averrhoa billimbi), or smooth type. Their main uses are in cooking and for tasks that require a strong sourness, such as cleaning the blades of their krises and enhancing the damask pattern, which is highly valued. The cheremi (Averrhoa acida) is closely related to the blimbing besi, but its fruit is smaller, irregularly shaped, grows in clusters near the branch, and has a single hard seed or stone inside. It is often used as a substitute for our sour fruits in tarts.
KATAPING.
KATAPING.
The kataping (Terminalia catappa, L. and Juglans catappa, Lour.) resembles the almond both in its outer husk and the flavour of its kernel; but instead of separating into two parts, like the almond, it is formed of spiral folds, and is developed somewhat like a rosebud, but continuous, and not in distinct laminae.
The kataping (Terminalia catappa, L. and Juglans catappa, Lour.) looks similar to an almond in its outer shell and the taste of its seed; however, instead of splitting into two parts like an almond, it has spiral folds and develops more like a rosebud, continuous rather than in separate layers.
SPECIES OF CHESTNUT.
Chestnut species.
The barangan (a species of fagus) resembles the chestnut. The tree is large, and the nuts grow sometimes one, two, and three in a husk. The jerring, a species of mimosa, resembles the same fruit, but is larger and more irregularly shaped than the barangan. The tree is smaller. The tapus (said to be a new genus belonging to the tricoccae) has likewise some analogy, but more distant, to the chestnut. There are likewise three nuts in one husk, forming in shape an oblong spheroid. If eaten unboiled they are said to inebriate. The tree is large.
The barangan (a type of beech tree) looks like a chestnut. It's a big tree, and the nuts sometimes grow one, two, or three in a husk. The jerring, a type of mimosa, resembles the same fruit but is larger and has a more irregular shape than the barangan. This tree is smaller. The tapus (which is said to be a new genus related to the tricoccae) also has some similarities, but they're more distant, to the chestnut. There are also three nuts in one husk, shaped like an elongated sphere. If eaten raw, they are said to be intoxicating. The tree is large.
KAMILING.
KAMILING.
The fruit named kamiri, kamiling, and more commonly buah kras, or the hard fruit (Camirium cordifolium, Gaert. and Juglans camirium, Lour.) bears much resemblance to the walnut in the flavour and consistence of the kernel; but the shell is harder and does not open in the same manner. The natives of the hills make use of it as a substitute for the coconut, both in their cookery and for procuring a delicate oil.
The fruit known as kamiri, kamiling, and more commonly as buah kras, or the hard fruit (Camirium cordifolium, Gaert. and Juglans camirium, Lour.) closely resembles a walnut in flavor and texture of the kernel, but its shell is tougher and doesn't open the same way. The locals in the hills use it as a substitute for coconut, both in cooking and for extracting a fine oil.
RATTAN.
Rattan.
The rotan salak (Calamus zalacca, Gaert.) yields a fruit, the pulp of which is sweetish, acidulous, and pleasant. Its outer coat, like those of the other rotans, is covered with scales, or the appearance of nice basket-work. It incloses sometimes one, two, and three kernels, of a peculiar horny substance.
The rotan salak (Calamus zalacca, Gaert.) produces a fruit with a sweet, slightly tangy, and enjoyable pulp. Its outer skin, like that of other rotans, is covered with scales, resembling beautiful basket weaving. Inside, it can contain one, two, or three seeds made of a unique hard substance.
CASHEW.
Cashew.
The cashew-apple and nut, called jambu muniet, or monkey-jambu (Anacardium occidentale), are well known for the strong acidity of the former, and the caustic quality of the oil contained in the latter, from tasting which the inexperienced often suffer.
The cashew-apple and nut, known as jambu muniet or monkey-jambu (Anacardium occidentale), are famous for the intense acidity of the former and the caustic nature of the oil found in the latter, which can be quite painful for those who try it without experience.
POMEGRANATE.
Pomegranate.
The pomegranate or dalima (Punica granatum) flourishes here, as in all warm climates.
The pomegranate, or dalima (Punica granatum), thrives here, just like in all warm climates.
GRAPES, ETC.
FRUIT, ETC.
Grape-vines are planted with success by Europeans for their tables, but not cultivated by the people of the country. There is found in the woods a species of wild grape, called pringat (Vitis indica); and also a strawberry, the blossom of which is yellow, and the fruit has little flavour. Beside these there are many other, for the most part wild, fruits, of which some boast a fine flavour, and others are little superior to our common berries, but might be improved by culture. Such are the buah kandis, a variety of garcinia (it should be observed that buah, signifying fruit, is always prefixed to the particular name), buah malaka (Phyllanthus emblica), rukam (Carissa spinarum), bangkudu or mangkudu (Morinda citrifolia), sikaduduk (melastoma), kitapan (Callicarpa japonica).
Grape vines are successfully grown by Europeans for their tables, but the local people do not cultivate them. In the woods, there is a type of wild grape known as pringat (Vitis indica), as well as a strawberry with yellow flowers that has little flavor. In addition to these, there are many other mostly wild fruits, some of which have great flavor, while others are only slightly better than our common berries, but could be improved with cultivation. These include buah kandis, a variety of garcinia (note that buah, which means fruit, is always added before the specific name), buah malaka (Phyllanthus emblica), rukam (Carissa spinarum), bangkudu or mangkudu (Morinda citrifolia), sikaduduk (melastoma), and kitapan (Callicarpa japonica).
FLOWERS.
Blooms.
"You breathe in the country of the Malays (says the writer before quoted) an air impregnated with the odours of innumerable flowers of the greatest fragrance, of which there is a perpetual succession throughout the year, the sweet flavour of which captivates the soul, and inspires the most voluptuous sensations." Although this luxurious picture may be drawn in too-warm tints it is not however without its degree of justness. The people of the country are fond of flowers in the ornament of their persons, and encourage their growth, as well as that of various odoriferous shrubs and trees.
"You breathe in the Malaysian countryside (as previously mentioned by the writer) an air filled with the scents of countless fragrant flowers, which bloom continuously throughout the year, their sweet aroma captivating the soul and evoking the most delightful sensations." While this lavish description might be a bit exaggerated, it still holds some truth. The locals love flowers as part of their personal adornment and promote the growth of various fragrant shrubs and trees.
KANANGA.
KANANGA.
The kananga (Uvaria cananga, L.) being a tree of the largest size, surpassed by few in the forest, may well take the lead, on that account, in a description of those which bear flowers. These are of a greenish yellow, scarcely distinguishable from the leaves, among which the bunches hang down in a peculiar manner. About sunset, if the evening be calm, they diffuse a fragrance around that affects the sense at the distance of some hundred yards.
The kananga (Uvaria cananga, L.), one of the tallest trees in the forest, is a great candidate to start a description of flowering plants. Its flowers are a greenish-yellow color, barely different from the leaves, and they hang down in a unique way. Around sunset, if the evening is peaceful, they release a scent that can be detected from a distance of several hundred yards.
CHAMPAKA.
CHAMPAKA.
Champaka (Michelia champaca). This tree grows in a regular, conical shape, and is ornamental in gardens. The flowers are a kind of small tulip, but close and pointed at top; their colour a deep yellow, the scent strong, and at a distance agreeable. They are wrapped in the folds of the hair, both by the women, and by young men who aim at gallantry.
Champaka (Michelia champaca). This tree grows in a typical conical shape and is used for decoration in gardens. The flowers resemble small tulips, but they are tightly closed and pointed at the top; they have a deep yellow color, a strong scent, and are pleasant from a distance. They are tucked into the hair by both women and young men who want to impress.
TANJONG.
Tanjong.
Bunga tanjong (Mimusops elengi, L.) A fair tree, rich in foliage, of a dark green; the flowers small, radiated, of a yellowish white, and worn in wreaths by the women; their scent, though exquisite at a distance, is too powerful when brought nigh. The fruit is a drupe, containing a large blackish flatted seed.
Bunga tanjong (Mimusops elengi, L.) is a lovely tree with lush dark green leaves. Its small, star-like flowers are yellowish white and are worn in wreaths by women. While the scent is delightful from afar, it can be overwhelming up close. The fruit is a drupe, containing a large, flat black seed.
GARDENIA.
Gardenia.
Sangklapa (Gardenia flore simplice). A handsome shrub with leaves of very deep green, long-pointed; the flowers a pure white, without visible stamina or pistil, the petals standing angularly to each other. It has little or no scent. The pachah-piring (Gardenia florida, described by Rumphius under the name of catsjopiri) is a grand white double flower, emitting a pleasing and not powerful odour.
Sangklapa (Gardenia flore simplice). A striking shrub with very deep green, long-pointed leaves; the flowers are pure white, without any visible stamens or pistils, with petals arranged at angles to one another. It has little to no scent. The pachah-piring (Gardenia florida, described by Rumphius as catsjopiri) is an impressive white double flower, giving off a pleasant, subtle fragrance.
HIBISCUS.
HIBISCUS.
The bunga raya (Hibiscus rosa sinensis) is a well-known shrub, with leaves of a yellowish green, serrated and curled. Of one sort the flower is red, yielding a juice of deep purple, and when applied to leather produces a bright black, from whence its vulgar name of the shoe-flower. Of another sort the blossom is white. They are without smell.
The bunga raya (Hibiscus rosa sinensis) is a popular shrub, with yellowish-green, serrated, and curled leaves. One variety has red flowers, which produce a deep purple juice; when applied to leather, it creates a bright black color, giving it the common name of shoe-flower. Another variety has white blossoms. They are odorless.
PLUMERIA.
PLUMERIA.
Bunga or kumbang kamboja (Plumeria obtusa) is likewise named bunga kubur-an, from its being always planted about graves. The flower is large, white, yellow towards the centre, consisting of five simple, smooth, thick petals, without visible pistil or stamina, and yielding a strong scent. The leaf of the tree is long, pointed, of a deep green, remarkable in this, that round the fibres proceeding from the midrib run another set near the edge, forming a handsome border. The tree grows in a stunted, irregular manner, and even whilst young has a venerable antique appearance.
Bunga or kumbang kamboja (Plumeria obtusa) is also called bunga kubur-an because it's often planted around graves. The flower is large, white, with a yellow center, and has five simple, smooth, thick petals, with no visible pistil or stamens, giving off a strong scent. The tree's leaves are long, pointed, and a deep green, notable for having another set of fibers running near the edge alongside those from the midrib, creating a lovely border. The tree grows in a stunted, irregular way and even as a young plant has an antique, dignified look.
NYCTANTHES.
Night-blooming jasmine.
The bunga malati and bunga malur (Nyctanthes sambac) are different names for the same humble plant, called mugri in Bengal. It bears a pretty white flower, diffusing a more exquisite fragrance, in the opinion of most persons, than any other of which the country boasts. It is much worn by the females; sometimes in wreaths, and various combinations, along with the bunga tanjong, and frequently the unblown buds are strung in imitation of rows of pearls. It should be remarked that the appellative bunga, or flower, (pronounced bungo in the south-western parts of Sumatra), is almost ever prefixed to the proper name, as buah is to fruits. There is also the malati china (Nyctanthes multiflora); the elegant bunga malati susun (Nyctanthes acuminata).
The bunga malati and bunga malur (Nyctanthes sambac) are different names for the same simple plant, known as mugri in Bengal. It produces a beautiful white flower that, according to most people, has a more delightful fragrance than any other flower in the region. It is commonly worn by women, sometimes as wreaths or in various arrangements alongside the bunga tanjong, and often the unopened buds are strung together to mimic strands of pearls. It's worth noting that the term bunga, or flower (pronounced bungo in the southwestern areas of Sumatra), is almost always added to the proper name, just like buah is used for fruits. There's also the malati china (Nyctanthes multiflora) and the graceful bunga malati susun (Nyctanthes acuminata).
PERGULARIA.
PERGULARIA.
And the celebrated bunga tonking (Pergularia odoratissima), whose fascinating sweets have been widely dispersed in England by the successful culture and liberal participation of Sir Joseph Banks. At Madras it obtained the appellation of West-coast, i.e. Sumatran, creeper, which marks the quarter from whence it was obtained. At Bencoolen the same appellation is familiarly applied to the bunga tali-tali (Ipomoea quamoclit), a beautiful, little, monopetalous flower, divided into five angular segments, and closing at sunset. From its bright crimson colour it received from Rumphius the name of Flos cardinalis. The plant is a luxuriant creeper, with a hairlike leaf.
And the well-known bunga tonking (Pergularia odoratissima), whose intriguing sweet scent has spread throughout England thanks to the successful cultivation and generous efforts of Sir Joseph Banks. In Madras, it’s called the West-coast, meaning Sumatran, creeper, which indicates the region from where it was sourced. In Bencoolen, the same name is commonly used for the bunga tali-tali (Ipomoea quamoclit), a lovely little flower with a single petal that’s divided into five angular parts and closes at sunset. Because of its bright crimson color, Rumphius named it Flos cardinalis. The plant is a lush creeper with threadlike leaves.
Pavetta indica, ETC.
Pavetta indica, etc.
The angsuka, or bunga jarum-jarum (Pavetta indica), obtained from Rumphius, on account of the glowing red colour of its long calices, the name of flamma sylvarum peregrina. The bunga marak (Poinciana pulcherrima) is a most splendid flower, the colours being a mixture of yellow and scarlet, and its form being supposed to resemble the crest of the peacock, from whence its Malayan name, which Rumphius translated. The nagasari (Calophyllum nagassari) bears a much admired blossom, well known in Bengal; but in the upper parts of India, called nagakehsir, and in the Batavian Transactions Acacia aurea. The bakong, or salandap (Crinum asiaticum), is a plant of the lily kind, with six large, white, turbinated petals of an agreeable scent. It grows wild near the beach amongst those plants which bind the loose sands. Another and beautiful species of the bakong has a deep shade of purple mixed with the white. The kachubong (Datura metel) appears also to flourish mostly by the seaside. It bears a white infundibuliform flower, rather pentagonal than round, with a small hook at each angle. The leaves are dark green, pointed, broad and unequal at the bottom. The fruit is shaped like an apple, very prickly, and full of small seeds. Sundal malam or harlot of the night (Polyanthes tuberosa) is so termed from the circumstance of its diffusing its sweet odours at that season. It is the tuberose of our gardens, but growing with great vigour and luxuriance. The bunga mawur (Rosa semperflorens, Curtis, Number 284), is small and of a deep crimson colour. Its scent is delicate and by no means so rich as that yielded by the roses of our climate. The Amaranthus cristatus (Celosia castrensis, L.) is probably a native, being found commonly in the interior of the Batta country, where strangers have rarely penetrated. The various species of this genus are called by the general name of bayam, of which some are edible, as before observed.
The angsuka, or bunga jarum-jarum (Pavetta indica), comes from Rumphius and is known for the bright red color of its long calices, earning it the name flamma sylvarum peregrina. The bunga marak (Poinciana pulcherrima) is a stunning flower, blending yellow and scarlet in its petals, and its shape is thought to mimic the crest of a peacock, which is reflected in its Malayan name that Rumphius translated. The nagasari (Calophyllum nagassari) has a highly regarded blossom, well-known in Bengal; in the higher regions of India, it’s called nagakeh-sir, and in the Batavian Transactions, it's noted as Acacia aurea. The bakong, or salandap (Crinum asiaticum), is a lily-type plant, with six large, white, tubular petals that have a pleasant fragrance. It grows wild near the beach among the plants that stabilize loose sands. Another beautiful type of bakong has a deep shade of purple mixed with white. The kachubong (Datura metel) mostly thrives by the seaside as well. It features a white, funnel-shaped flower that is more pentagonal than round, with a small hook at each angle. The leaves are dark green, pointed, broad, and uneven at the base. Its fruit resembles an apple, is very prickly, and filled with small seeds. Sundal malam or harlot of the night (Polyanthes tuberosa) gets its name because it releases its sweet scent during that time. It's the tuberose commonly found in our gardens but grows with remarkable vigor and lushness. The bunga mawur (Rosa semperflorens, Curtis, Number 284) is small with a deep crimson hue. Its fragrance is delicate and not as rich as that of roses from our climate. The Amaranthus cristatus (Celosia castrensis, L.) is likely a native plant, found often in the Batta country’s interior, where outsiders have rarely ventured. The various species in this genus are collectively known as bayam, and some of them are edible, as noted before.
PANDAN.
Pandan.
Of the pandan (pandanus), a shrub with very long prickly leaves, like those of the pineapple or aloe, there are many varieties, of which some are highly fragrant, particularly the pandan wangi (Pandanus odoratissima, L.), which produces a brownish white spath or blossom, one or two feet in length. This the natives shred fine and wear about their persons. The pandan pudak, or keura of Thunberg, which is also fragrant, I have reason to believe the same as the wangi. The common sort is employed for hedging and called caldera by Europeans in many parts of India. In the Nicobar islands it is cultivated and yields a fruit called the melori, which is one of the principle articles of food.
Of the pandan (pandanus), a shrub with very long, prickly leaves similar to those of the pineapple or aloe, there are many varieties, some of which are highly fragrant, especially the pandan wangi (Pandanus odoratissima, L.). This variety produces a brownish-white flower that can be one to two feet long. The locals shred this finely and wear it around their bodies. The pandan pudak, or keura of Thunberg, which is also fragrant, I have reason to believe is the same as the wangi. The common type is used for hedging and is referred to as caldera by Europeans in many parts of India. In the Nicobar Islands, it is cultivated and produces a fruit called melori, which is one of the main food sources.
EPIDENDRA.
Epidendrum.
Bunga anggrek (epidendrum). The species or varieties of this remarkable tribe of parasitical plants are very numerous, and may be said to exhibit a variety of loveliness. Kaempfer describes two kinds by the names of angurek warna and katong'ging; the first of which I apprehend to be the anggrek bunga putri (Angraecum scriptum, R.) and the other the anggrek kasturi (Angraecum moschatum, R.) or scorpion-flower, from its resembling that insect, as the former does the butterfly. The musky scent resides at the extremity of the tail.*
Bunga anggrek (epidendrum). The species or varieties of this remarkable group of parasitic plants are very numerous and showcase a range of beauty. Kaempfer describes two kinds called angurek warna and katong'ging; the first is likely the anggrek bunga putri (Angraecum scriptum, R.) and the other is the anggrek kasturi (Angraecum moschatum, R.) or scorpion flower, because it resembles that insect, just as the former resembles a butterfly. The musky scent is found at the tip of the tail.*
(*Footnote. Habetur haec planta apud Javanos in deliciis et magno studio colitur; tum ob floris eximium odorem, quem spirat, moschi, tum ob singularem elegantiam et figuram scorpionis, quam exhibet...spectaculo sane jocundissimo, ut negem quicquam elegantius et admiratione dignius in regno vegetabili me vidisse...Odorem flos moschi exquisitissimum atque adeo copiosum spargit, ut unicus stylus floridus totum conclave impleat. Qui vero odor, quod maxi me mireris, in extrema parte petali caudam referentis, residet; qua abicissa, omnis cessat odoris expiratio. Amoen exoticae, page 868.)
(*Footnote. This plant is highly cherished and cultivated by the Javanese due to its remarkable fragrance resembling musk, as well as its unique elegance and shape resembling a scorpion. It truly provides a delightful spectacle, and I can't deny that I have not seen anything more elegant or worthy of admiration in the plant kingdom. The scent of the musk flower is exquisite and so abundant that a single blooming flower fills an entire room. Interestingly, this fragrance, which may surprise you, resides at the very tip of the petal's tail; once that part is removed, the fragrant release ceases. Amoen exoticae, page 868.)
WATER-LILIES, ETC.
WATER LILIES, ETC.
The bunga tarati or seruja (Nymphaea nelumbo) as well as several other beautiful kinds of aquatic plants are found upon the inland waters of this country. Daun gundi or tabung bru (Nepenthes destillatoria) can scarcely be termed a flower, but is a very extraordinary climbing plant. From the extremity of the leaf a prolongation of the mid-rib, resembling the tendril of a vine, terminates in a membrane formed like a tankard with the lid or valve half opened; and growing always nearly erect, it is commonly half full of pure water from the rain or dews. This monkey-cup (as the Malayan name implies) is about four or five inches long and an inch in diameter. Giring landak (Crotalaria retusa) is a papilionaceous flower resembling the lupin, yellow, and tinged at the extremities with red. From the rattling of its seed in the pod it obtains its name, which signifies porcupine-bells, alluding to the small bells worn about the ankles of children. The daup (bauhinia) is a small, white, semiflosculous flower, with a faint smell. The leaves alone attract notice, being double, as if united by a hinge, and this peculiarity suggested the Linnean name, which was given in compliment to two brothers of the name of Bauhin, celebrated botanists, who always worked conjointly.
The bunga tarati or seruja (Nymphaea nelumbo) along with several other stunning types of aquatic plants can be found in the inland waters of this country. Daun gundi or tabung bru (Nepenthes destillatoria) isn’t really a flower but is a fascinating climbing plant. From the end of the leaf, a continuation of the mid-rib, looking like a vine tendril, ends in a cup-shaped structure with the lid or valve half open; and it usually grows nearly upright, typically half full of clear rainwater or dew. This monkey-cup (as the Malayan name suggests) is about four or five inches long and an inch in diameter. Giring landak (Crotalaria retusa) is a papilionaceous flower resembling lupin, yellow, with red tips. Its name, which means porcupine-bells, comes from the rattling of its seeds in the pod, referencing the small bells that children wear around their ankles. The daup (bauhinia) is a small, white flower with a faint fragrance. The leaves are particularly striking, being double, as if connected by a hinge, which inspired the Linnean name given in honor of the Bauhin brothers, renowned botanists who always collaborated.
To the foregoing list, in every respect imperfect, many interesting plants might be added by an attentive and qualified observer. The natives themselves have a degree of botanical knowledge that surprises Europeans. They are in general, and at a very early age, acquainted not only with the names, but the properties of every shrub and herb amongst that exuberant variety with which the island is clothed. They distinguish the sexes of many plants and trees, and divide several of the genera into as many species as our professors. Of the paku or fern I have had specimens brought to me of twelve sorts, which they told me were not the whole, and to each they gave a distinct name.
To the previous list, which is far from complete, many interesting plants could be added by an observant and knowledgeable person. The locals have a level of botanical knowledge that surprises Europeans. Generally, from a very young age, they know not just the names, but also the properties of every shrub and herb from the rich variety that covers the island. They can tell the sexes of many plants and trees and categorize several groups into as many species as our experts do. I’ve had samples of twelve different types of paku or fern brought to me, which they said weren’t all of them, and they assigned a unique name to each.
MEDICINAL HERBS.
Herbal medicine.
Some of the shrubs and herbs employed medicinally are as follows. Scarcely any of them are cultivated, being culled from the woods or plains as they happen to be wanted.
Some of the shrubs and herbs used for medicine are as follows. Hardly any of them are grown; they’re picked from the woods or fields as needed.
Lagundi (Vitex trifolia, L.) The botanic characters of this shrub are well known. The leaves, which are bitter and pungent rather than aromatic, are considered as a powerful antiseptic, and are employed in fevers in the place of Peruvian bark. They are also put into granaries and among cargoes of rice to prevent the destruction of the grain by weevils.
Lagundi (Vitex trifolia, L.) The botanical features of this shrub are well understood. The leaves, which have a bitter and pungent taste rather than a fragrant one, are recognized as a strong antiseptic and are used for treating fevers instead of Peruvian bark. They are also placed in storage areas and mixed with rice shipments to protect the grain from weevil damage.
Katupong resembles the nettle in growth, in fruit the blackberry. I have not been able to identify it. The leaf, being chewed, is used in dressing small fresh wounds.
Katupong looks like a nettle in how it grows and has blackberry-like fruit. I haven't been able to identify it. The leaves, when chewed, are used to treat small fresh wounds.
Siup, a kind of wild fig, is applied to the scurf or leprosy of the Nias people, when not inveterate.
Siup, a type of wild fig, is used to treat scurf or leprosy among the Nias people, as long as it's not severe.
Sikaduduk (melastoma) has the appearance of a wild rose. A decoction of its leaves is used for the cure of a disorder in the sole of the foot, called maltus, resembling the impetigo or ringworm.
Sikaduduk (melastoma) looks like a wild rose. A tea made from its leaves is used to treat a condition on the sole of the foot, called maltus, which is similar to impetigo or ringworm.
Ampadu-bruang or bear's gall (brucea, foliis serratis) is the lussa raja of Rumphius, excessively bitter, and applied in infusion for the relief of disorders in the bowels.
Ampadu-bruang, or bear’s gall (brucea, with serrated leaves), is the lussa raja of Rumphius. It’s extremely bitter and is used in an infusion to help relieve bowel disorders.
Kabu (unknown). Of this the bark and root are used for curing the kudis or itch, by rubbing it on the part affected.
Kabu (unknown). The bark and root are used to treat the itch or skin irritation by rubbing it on the affected area.
Marampuyan (a new genus). The young shoots of this, being supposed to have a refreshing and corroborating quality, are rubbed over the body and limbs after violent fatigue.
Marampuyan (a new genus). The young shoots of this plant are believed to have a refreshing and strengthening quality, so they are rubbed on the body and limbs after intense fatigue.
Mali-mali (unknown). The leaf of this plant, which bears a white umbellated blossom, is applied to reduce swellings.
Mali-mali (unknown). The leaf of this plant, which has a white, umbrella-shaped flower, is used to reduce swelling.
Chapo (Conyza balsamifera) resembles the sage (salvia) in colour, smell, taste, and qualities, but grows to the height of six feet, has a long jagged leaf, and its blossom resembles that of groundsel.
Chapo (Conyza balsamifera) is similar to sage (salvia) in color, smell, taste, and properties, but it can grow up to six feet tall, has a long jagged leaf, and its flower looks like that of groundsel.
Murribungan (unknown). The leaves of this climber are broad, roundish, and smooth. The juice of its stalk is applied to heal excoriations of the tongue.
Murribungan (unknown). The leaves of this climbing plant are wide, round, and smooth. The juice from its stalk is used to treat sores on the tongue.
Ampi-ampi (unknown). A climbing plant with leaves resembling the box, and a small flosculous blossom. It is used as a medicine in fevers.
Ampi-ampi (unknown). A climbing plant with leaves that look like boxwood and small, fluffy flowers. It's used as a medicine for fevers.
Kadu (species of piper), with a leaf in shape and taste resembling the betel. It is burned to preserve children newly born from the influence of evil spirits.
Kadu (a type of piper), has leaves that look and taste similar to betel. It's burned to protect newborns from the influence of evil spirits.
Gumbai (unknown). A shrub with monopetalous, stillated, purple flowers, growing in tufts. The leaves are used in disorders of the bowels.
Gumbai (unknown). A shrub with single-petaled, purple flowers that grow in clusters. The leaves are used to treat bowel issues.
Tabulan bukan (unknown). A shrub bearing a semiflosculous blossom, applied to the cure of sore eyes.
Tabulan isn't known. It's a shrub that has semiflosculous flowers, used to treat sore eyes.
Kachang prang (Dolichos ensiformis). The pods of this are of a huge size, and the beans, of a fine crimson colour, are used in diseases of the pleura.
Kachang prang (Dolichos ensiformis). The pods are very large, and the beans, which are a beautiful crimson color, are used to treat pleura-related diseases.
Sipit, a species of fig, with a large oval leaf, rough to the touch, and rigid. An infusion of it is swallowed in iliac affections.
Sipit, a type of fig, has a large oval leaf that feels rough and stiff to the touch. An infusion of it is taken for issues related to the iliac region.
Daun se-dingin (Cotyledon laciniata). This leaf, as the name denotes, is of a remarkably cold quality. It is applied to the forehead to cure the headache, and sometimes to the body in fevers.
Daun se-dingin (Cotyledon laciniata). This leaf, as the name suggests, has a distinctly cold quality. It's used on the forehead to relieve headaches and sometimes on the body during fevers.
Long pepper (Piper longum) is used medicinally.
Long pepper (Piper longum) is used for medicinal purposes.
Turmeric, also, mixed with rice reduced to powder and then formed into a paste, is much used outwardly in cases of colds and pains in the bones; and chunam or quick-lime is likewise commonly rubbed on parts of the body affected with pain.
Turmeric, when mixed with powdered rice and made into a paste, is commonly used externally for colds and joint pain. Quick-lime is also often rubbed on areas of the body that are in pain.
In the cure of the kura or boss (from the Portuguese word baco), which is an obstruction of the spleen, forming a hard lump in the upper part of the abdomen, a decoction of the following plants is externally applied: sipit tunggul; madang tandok (a new genus, highly aromatic); ati ayer (species of arum ?) tapa besi; paku tiong (a most beautiful fern, with leaves like a palm; genus not ascertained); tapa badak (a variety of callicarpa); laban (Vitex altissima); pisang ruko (species of musa); and paku lamiding (species of polypodium ?); together with a juice extracted from the akar malabatei (unknown).
In the treatment of the kura or boss (from the Portuguese word baco), which refers to a blockage of the spleen causing a hard lump in the upper abdomen, a decoction of the following plants is applied externally: sipit tunggul; madang tandok (a new aromatic genus); ati ayer (species of arum?); tapa besi; paku tiong (a striking fern with palm-like leaves; genus not determined); tapa badak (a type of callicarpa); laban (Vitex altissima); pisang ruko (a species of musa); and paku lamiding (species of polypodium?); along with juice extracted from akar malabatei (unknown).
In the cure of the kurap, tetter or ringworm, they apply the daun galinggan (Cassia quadri-alata) a herbaceous shrub with large pinnated leaves and a yellow blossom. In the more inveterate cases, barangan (coloured arsenic, or orpiment), a strong poison, is rubbed in.
In treating kurap, tetter, or ringworm, they use daun galinggan (Cassia quadri-alata), a herbaceous shrub with large, feathery leaves and yellow flowers. For more stubborn cases, they apply barangan (colored arsenic, or orpiment), which is a strong poison.
The milky exsudation from the sudu-sudu (Euphorbia neriifolia) is valued highly by the natives for medicinal purposes. Its leaves eaten by sheep or goats occasion present death.
The milky fluid from the sudu-sudu (Euphorbia neriifolia) is highly valued by locals for its medicinal properties. If sheep or goats eat its leaves, it can lead to their immediate death.
UPAS TREE.
Upas tree.
On the subject of the puhn upas or poison tree (Arbor toxicaria, R.), of whose properties so extraordinary an account was published in the London Magazine for September 1785 by Mr. N.P. Foersch, a surgeon in the service of the Dutch East India Company, at that time in England, I shall quote the observations of the late ingenious Mr. Charles Campbell, of the medical establishment at Fort Marlborough. "On my travels in the country at the back of Bencoolen I found the upas tree, about which so many ridiculous tales have been told. Some seeds must by this time have arrived in London in a packet I forwarded to Mr. Aiton at Kew. The poison is certainly deleterious, but not in so terrific a degree as has been represented. Some of it in an inspissated state you will receive by an early opportunity. As to the tree itself, it does no manner of injury to those around it. I have sat under its shade, and seen birds alight upon its branches; and as to the story of grass not growing beneath it, everyone who has been in a forest must know that grass is not found in such situations." For further particulars respecting this poison-tree, which has excited so much interest, the reader is referred to Sir George Staunton's Account of Lord Macartney's Embassy Volume 1 page 272; to Pennant's Outlines of the Globe Volume 4 page 42, where he will find a copy of Foersch's original narrative; and to a Dissertation by Professor C.P. Thunberg upon the Arbor toxicaria Macassariensis, in the Mem. of the Upsal Acad. for 1788. The information given by Rumphius upon the subject of the Ipo or Upas, in his Herb. Amboin. Volume 2 page 263, will also be perused with satisfaction.* It is evident that some of the exaggerated stories related to him by the people of Celebes (the plant not being indigenous at Amboina) suggested to Mr. Foersch, the fables with which he amused the world.
Regarding the puhn upas or poison tree (Arbor toxicaria, R.), which was described in detail in the London Magazine for September 1785 by Mr. N.P. Foersch, a surgeon with the Dutch East India Company who was in England at the time, I’ll share the insights of the late talented Mr. Charles Campbell from the medical establishment at Fort Marlborough. “While traveling in the area behind Bencoolen, I discovered the upas tree, which has been the subject of many absurd stories. Some seeds have likely made their way to London in the package I sent to Mr. Aiton at Kew. The poison is indeed harmful, but not as terrifying as it's been portrayed. You'll receive some of it in a concentrated state soon. As for the tree itself, it doesn’t harm those nearby. I’ve sat in its shade and watched birds land on its branches; and about the claim that grass doesn’t grow beneath it, anyone who has been in a forest knows that grass isn’t found in such places.” For more details about this poison tree that has sparked so much curiosity, readers can refer to Sir George Staunton's Account of Lord Macartney's Embassy Volume 1 page 272, and Pennant's Outlines of the Globe Volume 4 page 42, which includes a copy of Foersch's original narrative, as well as a Dissertation by Professor C.P. Thunberg on the Arbor toxicaria Macassariensis, in the Mem. of the Upsal Acad. for 1788. The information provided by Rumphius regarding the Ipo or Upas in his Herb. Amboin. Volume 2 page 263 will also be a rewarding read. It’s clear that some of the exaggerated tales shared with him by the local people of Celebes (the plant is not native to Amboina) inspired Mr. Foersch to create the fanciful stories that captivated the public.
(*Footnote. Since the above was written I have seen the Dissertation sur les Effets d'un Poison de Java, appele Upas tieute, etc.; presentee a la Faculte de Medicine de Paris le 6 Juillet 1809, par M. Alire Raffeneau-Delile, in which he details a set of curious and interesting experiments on this very active poison, made with specimens brought from Java by M. Leschenault; and also a second dissertation, in manuscript (presented to the Royal Society), upon the effects of similar experiments made with what he terms the upas antiar. The former he states to be a decoction or extract from the bark of the roots of a climbing plant of the genus strychnos, called tieute by the natives of Java; and the latter to be a milky, bitter, and yellowish juice, running from an incision in the bark of a large tree (new genus) called antiar; the word upas meaning, as M. Leschenault understands, vegetable poison of any kind. A small branch of the puhn upas, with some of the poisonous gum, was brought to England in 1806 by Dr. Roxburgh, who informed Mr. Lambert that a plant of it which he had procured from Sumatra was growing rapidly in the Company's Botanic Garden at Calcutta. A specimen of the gum, by the favour of the latter gentleman, is in my possession.)
(*Footnote. Since I wrote the above, I have come across the Dissertation sur les Effets d'un Poison de Java, appele Upas tieute, etc.; presented to the Faculty of Medicine in Paris on July 6, 1809, by M. Alire Raffeneau-Delile. In it, he describes a series of fascinating experiments on this highly toxic poison, conducted with samples brought from Java by M. Leschenault. He also presenta a second manuscript dissertation (submitted to the Royal Society) about the effects of similar experiments with what he refers to as the upas antiar. He explains that the former is a decoction or extract from the bark of the roots of a climbing plant of the genus strychnos, called tieute by the locals in Java. The latter is a milky, bitter, yellowish juice that oozes from a cut in the bark of a large tree (a new genus) named antiar; the term upas, according to M. Leschenault, signifies vegetable poison of any kind. In 1806, Dr. Roxburgh brought a small branch of the puhn upas, along with some of the poisonous gum, to England, and informed Mr. Lambert that a plant he acquired from Sumatra was thriving in the Company's Botanic Garden in Calcutta. Thanks to Mr. Lambert, I have a specimen of the gum in my possession.)
CHAPTER 6.
BEASTS.
REPTILES.
FISH.
BIRDS.
INSECTS.
Animals.
Reptiles.
Fish.
Birds.
Insects.
BEASTS.
Monsters.
The animal kingdom claims attention, but, the quadrupeds of the island being in general the same as are found elsewhere throughout the East, already well described, I shall do little more than furnish a list of those which have occurred to my notice; adding a few observations on such as may appear to require them.
The animal kingdom demands attention, but since the four-legged creatures on the island are mostly the same as those found elsewhere in the East and are already well-documented, I will mostly just provide a list of those I’ve noted; adding a few comments on any that seem to need them.
BUFFALO.
BUFFALO.
The karbau, or buffalo, constituting a principal part of the food of the natives, and, being the only animal employed in their domestic labours, it is proper that I should enter into some detail of its qualities and uses; although it may be found not to differ materially from the buffalo of Italy, and to be the same with that of Bengal. The individuals of the species, as is the case with other domesticated cattle, differ extremely from each other in their degree of perfection, and a judgment is not to be formed of the superior kinds, from such as are usually furnished as provision to the ships from Europe. They are distinguished into two sorts; the black and the white. Both are equally employed in work, but the latter is seldom killed for food, being considered much inferior in quality, and by many as unwholesome, occasioning the body to break out in blotches. If such be really the effect, it may be presumed that the light flesh-colour is itself the consequence of some original disorder, as in the case of those of the human species who are termed white negroes. The hair upon this sort is extremely thin, scarcely serving to cover the hide; nor have the black buffaloes a coat like the cattle of England. The legs are shorter than those of the ox, the hoofs larger, and the horns are quite peculiar, being rather square or flat than round, excepting near the extremities; and whether pointing backward, as in general, or forwards, as they often do, are always in the plane of the forehead, and not at an angle, as those of the cow-kind. They contain much solid substance, and are valuable in manufacture. The tail hangs down to the middle joint of the leg only, is small, and terminates in a bunch of hair. The neck is thick and muscular, nearly round, but somewhat flatted at top, and has little or no dewlap dependant from it. The organ of generation in the male has an appearance as if the extremity were cut off. It is not a salacious animal. The female goes nine months with calf, which it suckles during six, from four teats. When crossing a river it exhibits the singular sight of carrying its young one on its back. It has a weak cry, in a sharp tone, very unlike the lowing of oxen. The most part of the milk and butter required for the Europeans (the natives not using either) is supplied by the buffalo, and its milk is richer than that of the cow, but not yielded in equal quantity. What these latter produce is also very small compared with the dairies of Europe. At Batavia, likewise, we are told that their cows are small and lean, from the scantiness of good pasture, and do not give more than about an English quart of milk, sixteen of which are required to make a pound of butter.
The karbau, or buffalo, is a main part of the local diet and the only animal used for domestic work, so it’s important to discuss its qualities and uses. It may not be much different from the buffalo found in Italy or Bengal. Like other domesticated cattle, individual buffaloes vary greatly in quality, so you can’t judge the best kinds based on what’s usually sold to ships coming from Europe. There are two types: black and white. Both are used for work, but the white buffalo is rarely eaten, as it’s considered to be of lower quality and, to many, unhealthy, sometimes causing skin blemishes. If this is true, the lighter flesh color could stem from some underlying issue, similar to certain human conditions referred to as “white blacks.” The hair on the white buffalo is very sparse, barely covering the skin; and the black buffalo also lacks the thick coat seen in cattle from England. Their legs are shorter than those of an ox, with larger hooves and unique horns that are more square or flat than round, except near the tips. Whether the horns point backward, as is typical, or forward, as they sometimes do, they always stay aligned with the forehead rather than at an angle like those of cows. They have a lot of solid mass and are valuable for manufacturing. The tail extends only to the middle joint of the leg, is small and ends in a tuft of hair. The neck is thick and muscular, nearly round but slightly flattened on top, with little to no dewlap hanging from it. The male’s reproductive organ looks like it’s been partially amputated. They aren’t very lustful animals. The female carries her calf for nine months and nurses it for six from four teats. When crossing a river, it’s a remarkable sight to see her carry the young one on her back. Their cry is weak and high-pitched, very different from the mooing of oxen. Most of the milk and butter consumed by Europeans (which the locals don’t use) comes from the buffalo. Buffalo milk is richer than cow’s milk, though produced in smaller quantities. What cows do produce is also significantly less than what European dairies yield. In Batavia, we also learn that their cows are small and lean due to the lack of quality pasture, producing only about a quart of milk, with sixteen quarts needed to make a pound of butter.
The inland people, where the country is tolerably practicable, avail themselves of the strength of this animal to draw timber felled in the woods: the Malays and other people on the coast train them to the draft, and in many places to the plough. Though apparently of a dull, obstinate, capricious nature, they acquire from habit a surprising docility, and are taught to lift the shafts of the cart with their horns, and to place the yoke, which is a curved piece of wood attached to the shafts, across their necks; needing no further harness than a breast-band, and a string that is made to pass through the cartilage of the nostrils. They are also, for the service of Europeans, trained to carry burdens suspended from each side of a packsaddle, in roads, or rather paths, where carriages cannot be employed. It is extremely slow, but steady in its work. The labour it performs, however, falls short of what might be expected from its size and apparent strength, any extraordinary fatigue, particularly during the heat of the day, being sufficient to put a period to its life, which is at all times precarious. The owners frequently experience the loss of large herds, in a short space of time, by an epidemic distemper, called bandung (obstruction), that seizes them suddenly, swells their bodies, and occasions, as it is said, the serum of the blood to distil through the tubes of the hairs.
The inland people, where the land is fairly easy to navigate, use the strength of this animal to pull timber cut from the forests. The Malays and other coastal communities train them for draft work, and in many areas to plow fields. Although they might seem dull, stubborn, and unpredictable, they develop a surprising gentleness with time and can be taught to lift the cart shafts with their horns and to place the yoke, a curved piece of wood attached to the shafts, across their necks; they only need a simple harness made of a chest strap and a string that goes through the cartilage of their nostrils. They are also trained for Europeans to carry loads on either side of a packsaddle along paths where vehicles can't be used. Their pace is very slow, but they complete their tasks reliably. However, the amount of work they can do is less than what might be expected from their size and strength, as anything particularly tiring, especially in the heat of the day, can endanger their lives, which are always at risk. Owners often suffer the loss of large groups in a short time due to an epidemic illness known as bandung (obstruction), which strikes suddenly, causes their bodies to swell, and supposedly leads to the serum of their blood seeping through their hair follicles.
The luxury of the buffalo consists in rolling itself in a muddy pool, which it forms, in any spot, for its convenience, during the rainy season. This it enjoys in a high degree, dexterously throwing with its horn the water and slime, when not of a sufficient depth to cover it, over its back and sides. Their blood is perhaps of a hot temperature, which may render this indulgence, found to be quite necessary to their health, so desirable to their feelings; and the mud, at the same time, forming a crust upon their bodies, preserves them from the attack of insects, which otherwise prove very troublesome. Their owners light fires for them in the evening, in order that the smoke may have the same effect, and they have the instinctive sagacity to lay themselves down to leeward, that they may enjoy its full benefit.
The luxury of the buffalo is rolling in a muddy pool that it creates wherever it wants during the rainy season. It takes great pleasure in this, skillfully using its horns to fling water and mud over its back and sides when the pool isn’t deep enough to cover it completely. Their blood might be quite warm, which could make this indulgence, essential for their health, really appealing to them. The mud also forms a crust on their bodies, protecting them from annoying insects. Their owners light fires for them in the evening so the smoke can have a similar protective effect, and the buffalo instinctively lie down in the direction away from the wind to get the most benefit from it.
Although common in every part of the country, they are not understood to exist in the proper wild or indigenous state, those found in the woods being termed karbau jalang, or stray buffaloes, and considered as the subject of property; or if originally wild, they may afterwards, from their use in labour and food, have been all caught and appropriated by degrees. They are gregarious, and usually found in large numbers together, but sometimes met with singly, when they are more dangerous to passengers. Like the turkey and some other animals they have an antipathy to a red colour, and are excited by it to mischief. When in a state of liberty they run with great swiftness, keeping pace with the speed of an ordinary horse. Upon an attack or alarm they fly to a short distance, and then suddenly face about and draw up in battle-array with surprising quickness and regularity; their horns being laid back, and their muzzles projecting. Upon the nearer approach of the danger that presses on them they make a second flight, and a second time halt and form; and this excellent mode of retreat, which but few nations of the human race have attained to such a degree of discipline as to adopt, they continue till they gain the fastnesses of a neighbouring wood. Their principal foe, next to man, is the tiger; but only the weaker sort, and the females fall a certain prey to this ravager, as the sturdy male buffalo can support the first vigorous stroke from the tiger's paw, on which the fate of the battle usually turns.
Although they are common throughout the country, they aren't recognized as truly wild or indigenous. Those found in the woods are called karbau jalang, or stray buffaloes, and are seen as property. If they started out wild, they've likely been gradually caught and used for labor and food. They tend to gather in large groups but can occasionally be found alone, which makes them more dangerous for travelers. Like turkeys and some other animals, they dislike red and can become aggressive in response to it. When in the wild, they run very fast, matching the speed of an ordinary horse. If alarmed or attacked, they flee a short distance, then quickly turn around and form a defensive line with impressive speed and organization, with their horns back and muzzles forward. If danger gets closer, they retreat again and form up, continuing this effective strategy until they reach the safety of nearby woods. Their main enemy, besides humans, is the tiger, but only the weaker buffalo and females easily fall prey to this predator. The strong male buffalo can withstand the tiger's initial attack, which often determines the outcome of the encounter.
COW.
Cattle.
The cow, called sapi (in another dialect sampi) and jawi, is obviously a stranger to the country, and does not appear to be yet naturalized. The bull is commonly of what is termed the Madagascar breed, with a large hump upon the shoulders, but from the general small size of the herds I apprehend that it degenerates, from the want of good pasture, the spontaneous production of the soil being too rank.
The cow, known as sapi (or sampi in another dialect) and jawi, is clearly not native to the area and doesn't seem to have adapted yet. The bull is usually of the Madagascar breed, characterized by a large hump on its shoulders, but given the generally small size of the herds, I suspect it is declining in quality due to poor grazing conditions, as the natural growth of the land is too rich.
THE HORSE.
THE HORSE.
The horse, kuda: the breed is small, well made, and hardy. The country people bring them down in numbers for sale in nearly a wild state; chiefly from the northward. In the Batta country they are eaten as food; which is a custom also amongst the people of Celebes.
The horse, kuda: the breed is small, well-built, and tough. The rural people bring them down in large numbers for sale, mostly still in a wild state, especially from the north. In the Batta region, they are consumed as food, which is also a practice among the people of Celebes.
SHEEP, ETC.
Sheep, etc.
Sheep, biri-biri and domba: small breed, introduced probably from Bengal.
Sheep, biri-biri, and domba: small breed, likely introduced from Bengal.
Goat, kambing: beside the domestic species, which is in general small and of a light brown colour, there is the kambing utan, or wild goat. One which I examined was three feet in height, and four in the length of the body. It had something of the gazelle in its appearance, and, with the exception of the horns, which were about six inches long and turned back with an arch, it did not much resemble the common goat. The hinder parts were shaped like those of a bear, the rump sloping round off from the back; the tail was very small, and ended in a point; the legs clumsy; the hair along the ridge of the back rising coarse and strong, almost like bristles; no beard; over the shoulder was a large spreading tuft of greyish hair; the rest of the hair black throughout; the scrotum globular. Its disposition seemed wild and fierce, and it is said by the natives to be remarkably swift.
Goat, kambing: along with the domesticated species, which is generally small and light brown in color, there is the kambing utan, or wild goat. One that I looked at was three feet tall and four feet long. It had a somewhat gazelle-like appearance, and apart from the horns, which were about six inches long and curved back in an arch, it didn’t resemble the typical goat much. Its back end was shaped like that of a bear, with the rump rounding off from the back; the tail was very small and pointed; the legs looked clumsy; the hair along the ridge of the back was coarse and stiff, almost like bristles; there was no beard; over the shoulder was a large tuft of gray hair; the rest of its fur was black throughout; the scrotum was round. Its demeanor seemed wild and fierce, and the locals say it’s particularly fast.
Hog, babi: that breed we call Chinese.
Hog, pig: that type we call Chinese.
The wild hog, babi utan.
The wild hog, wild boar.
Dog, anjing: those brought from Europe lose in a few years their distinctive qualities, and degenerate at length into the cur with erect ears, kuyu, vulgarly called the pariah dog. An instance did not occur of any one going mad during the period of my residence. Many of them are affected with a kind of gonorrhoea.
Dog, anjing: those brought from Europe lose their unique traits after a few years and eventually deteriorate into the common dog with upright ears, kuyu, commonly known as the pariah dog. I didn't see anyone go mad during the time I lived there. Many of them suffer from a type of gonorrhea.
Otter, anjing ayer (Mustela lutra).
Otter, dog of water (Mustela lutra).
Cat, kuching: these in every respect resemble our common domestic cat, excepting that the tails of all are more or less imperfect, with a knob or hardness at the end, as if they had been cut or twisted off. In some the tail is not more than a few inches in length, whilst in others it is so nearly perfect that the defect can be ascertained only by the touch.
Cat, kuching: these are in every way similar to our usual domestic cat, except that their tails are somewhat flawed, featuring a knob or hardness at the end, as if they had been cut or twisted off. In some cases, the tail is just a few inches long, while in others it is almost normal, with the defect detectable only by touch.
Rat, tikus: of the grey kind.
Rat, mouse: of the gray kind.
Mouse, tikus kechil.
Mouse, small mouse.
ELEPHANT.
ELEPHANT.
Elephant, gajah: these huge animals abound in the woods, and from their gregarious habits usually traversing the country in large troops together, prove highly destructive to the plantations of the inhabitants, obliterating the traces of cultivation by merely walking through the grounds; but they are also fond of the produce of their gardens, particularly of plantain-trees and the sugar-cane, which they devour with eagerness. This indulgence of appetite often proves fatal to them, for the owners, knowing their attachment to these vegetables, have a practice of poisoning some part of the plantation, by splitting the canes and putting yellow arsenic into the clefts which the animal unwarily eats of, and dies. Not being by nature carnivorous, the elephants are not fierce, and seldom attack a man but when fired at or otherwise provoked. Excepting a few kept for state by the king of Achin, they are not tamed in any part of the island.
Elephants, gajah: these massive animals are common in the forests, and because they are social creatures that usually travel in large groups, they can be very destructive to local farms, wiping out signs of cultivation just by walking through the fields. They also enjoy the produce from gardens, especially plantain trees and sugar cane, which they eagerly consume. This indulgence can be deadly for them, as farmers, aware of their preference for these plants, often poison parts of their crops. They split the canes and put yellow arsenic in the openings, which the elephants unknowingly eat and die from. Since they’re not naturally carnivorous, elephants are not aggressive and rarely attack humans unless provoked or shot at. Aside from a few kept for ceremonial purposes by the king of Achin, they are not domesticated anywhere on the island.
RHINOCEROS.
RHINO.
The rhinoceros, badak, both that with a single horn and the double-horned species, are natives of these woods. The latter has been particularly described by the late ingenious Mr. John Bell (one of the pupils of Mr. John Hunter) in a paper printed in Volume 83 of the Philosophical Transactions for 1793. The horn is esteemed an antidote against poison, and on that account formed into drinking cups. I do not know anything to warrant the stories told of the mutual antipathy and the desperate encounters of these two enormous beasts.
The rhinoceros, or badak, including both the single-horned and double-horned species, are native to these woods. The double-horned type has been especially described by the late clever Mr. John Bell (a student of Mr. John Hunter) in a paper published in Volume 83 of the Philosophical Transactions for 1793. The horn is considered an antidote to poison, which is why it’s often made into drinking cups. I don’t have any evidence to support the stories about the intense dislike and fierce battles between these two massive animals.
HIPPOPOTAMUS.
HIPPO.
Hippopotamus, kuda ayer: the existence of this quadruped in the island of Sumatra having been questioned by M. Cuvier, and not having myself actually seen it, I think it necessary to state that the immediate authority upon which I included it in the list of animals found there was a drawing made by Mr. Whalfeldt, an officer employed on a survey of the coast, who had met with it at the mouth of one of the southern rivers, and transmitted the sketch along with his report to the government, of which I was then secretary. Of its general resemblance to that well-known animal there could be no doubt. M. Cuvier suspects that I may have mistaken for it the animal called by naturalists the dugong, and vulgarly the sea-cow, which will be hereafter mentioned; and it would indeed be a grievous error to mistake for a beast with four legs, a fish with two pectoral fins serving the purposes of feet; but, independently of the authority I have stated, the kuda ayer, or river-horse, is familiarly known to the natives, as is also the duyong (from which Malayan word the dugong of naturalists has been corrupted); and I have only to add that, in a register given by the Philosophical Society of Batavia in the first Volume of their Transactions for 1799, appears the article "couda aijeer, rivier paard, hippopotamus" amongst the animals of Java.
Hippopotamus, kuda ayer: since M. Cuvier questioned the existence of this four-legged animal in the island of Sumatra and I haven't actually seen it myself, I feel it's important to mention that the source I relied on to include it in the list of animals found there was a drawing by Mr. Whalfeldt, an officer surveying the coast, who encountered it at the mouth of one of the southern rivers. He sent the sketch along with his report to the government, where I was then serving as secretary. There's no doubt about its general resemblance to that well-known animal. M. Cuvier thinks I might have confused it with the animal known to naturalists as the dugong, informally called the sea-cow, which I'll discuss later; and it would indeed be a serious mistake to confuse a four-legged beast with a fish that has two fins acting as feet. However, apart from the authority I've mentioned, the kuda ayer, or river-horse, is well-known to the locals, just as the duyong (from which the word dugong has been derived) is known. Additionally, I should mention that in a register provided by the Philosophical Society of Batavia in the first Volume of their Transactions for 1799, there's an entry for "couda aijeer, rivier paard, hippopotamus" among the animals of Java.
BEAR, ETC.
BEAR, ETC.
Bear, bruang: generally small and black: climbs the coconut-trees in order to devour the tender part or cabbage.
Bear, bruang: usually small and black: climbs coconut trees to eat the tender part or cabbage.
Of the deer kind there are several species: rusa, the stag, of which some are very large; kijang, the roe, with unbranched horns, the emblem of swiftness and wildness with the Malayan poets; palandok, napu, and kanchil, three varieties, of which the last is the smallest, of that most delicate animal, termed by Buffon the chevrotin, but which belong to the moschus. Of a kanchil measured at Batavia the extreme length was sixteen inches, and the height ten behind, and eight at the shoulder.
Of the deer family, there are several species: rusa, the stag, some of which are quite large; kijang, the roe, with straight antlers, a symbol of speed and wildness among Malay poets; palandok, napu, and kanchil, three varieties, with the last being the smallest of this delicate animal, called chevrotin by Buffon, but which belong to the moschus. A kanchil measured in Batavia had an overall length of sixteen inches, a height of ten inches at the back, and eight inches at the shoulder.
Babi-rusa, or hog-deer: an animal of the hog kind, with peculiar tusks resembling horns. Of this there is a representation in Valentyn, Volume 3 page 268 fig. c., and also in the very early travels of Cosmas, published in Thevenot's Collect. Volume 1 page 2 of the Greek Text.
Babi-rusa, or hog-deer: an animal from the pig family, with unique tusks that look like horns. You can find an illustration of it in Valentyn, Volume 3, page 268, fig. c., and also in the early travels of Cosmas, published in Thevenot's Collection, Volume 1, page 2 of the Greek Text.
The varieties of the monkey tribe are innumerable: among them the best known are the muniet, karra, bru, siamang (or simia gibbon of Buffon), and lutong. With respect to the appellation of orang utan, or wild man, it is by no means specific, but applied to any of these animals of a large size that occasionally walks erect, and bears the most resemblance to the human figure.
The types of monkeys are countless: among the most well-known are the muniet, karra, bru, siamang (or Buffon's simian gibbon), and lutong. As for the name orangutan, or wild man, it isn’t specific; it’s used for any of these larger animals that sometimes walk on two legs and resemble humans the most.
Sloth, ku-kang, ka-malas-an (Lemur tardigradus).
Sloth, ku-kang, ka-malas-an (Lemur tardigradus).
Squirrel, tupei; usually small and dark-coloured.
Squirrel, tupei; typically small and dark-colored.
Teleggo, stinkard.
Teleggo, loser.
TIGER.
TIGER.
Tiger, arimau, machang: this beast is here of a very large size, and proves a destructive foe to man as well as to most other animals. The heads being frequently brought in to receive the reward given by the East India Company for killing them, I had an opportunity of measuring one, which was eighteen inches across the forehead. Many circumstances respecting their ravages, and the modes of destroying them, will occur in the course of the work.
Tiger, arimau, machang: this creature is quite large and poses a serious threat to humans as well as to many other animals. Since the heads are often brought in to claim the reward offered by the East India Company for killing them, I had the chance to measure one, which was eighteen inches across the forehead. Many details about their destruction and methods to eliminate them will be discussed throughout this work.
Tiger-cat, kuching-rimau (said to feed on vegetables as well as flesh).
Tiger-cat, kuching-rimau (said to eat both plants and meat).
Civet-cat, tanggalong (Viverra civetta): the natives take the civet, as they require it for use, from a peculiar receptacle under the tail of the animal. It appears from the Ayin Akbari (Volume 1 page 103) that the civet used at Delhi was imported from Achin.
Civet-cat, tanggalong (Viverra civetta): the locals collect the civet, as they need it, from a unique pouch under the animal's tail. According to the Ayin Akbari (Volume 1 page 103), the civet used in Delhi was brought in from Achin.
Polecat, musang (Viverra fossa, or a new species).
Polecat, musang (Viverra fossa, or a new species).
Porcupine (Hystrix longicauda) landak, and, for distinction, babi landak.
Porcupine (Hystrix longicauda) and to distinguish, spiny pig.
Hedgehog (erinaceus) landak.
Hedgehog (erinaceus) hedgehog.
PENG-GOLING.
PENG-GOLING.
Peng-goling, signifying the animal which rolls itself up; or pangolin of Buffon: this is distinguished into the peng-goling rambut, or hairy sort (myrmophaga), and the peng-goling sisik, or scaly sort, called more properly tanggiling (species of manis); the scales of this are esteemed by the natives for their medicinal properties. See Asiatic Researches Volume 1 page 376 and Volume 2 page 353.
Peng-goling, referring to the animal that curls up; or pangolin of Buffon: this is divided into the peng-goling rambut, or hairy type (myrmophaga), and the peng-goling sisik, or scaly type, more accurately known as tanggiling (species of manis); the scales of this are valued by the locals for their medicinal benefits. See Asiatic Researches Volume 1 page 376 and Volume 2 page 353.
BATS.
Bats.
Of the bat kind there is an extraordinary variety: the churi-churi is the smallest species, called vulgarly burong tikus, or the mouse-bird; next to these is the kalalawar; then the kalambit; and the kaluwang (noctilio) is of considerable size; of these I have observed very large flights occasionally passing at a great height in the air, as if migrating from one country to another, and Captain Forrest notices their crossing the Straits of Sunda from Java Head to Mount Pugong; they are also seen hanging by hundreds upon trees. The flying-foxes and flying-squirrels (Lemur volans), which by means of a membrane extending from what may be termed the forelegs to those behind, are enabled to take short flights, are also not uncommon.
There’s an amazing variety of bats: the churi-churi is the smallest kind, commonly known as the mouse-bird; next is the kalalawar; then there’s the kalambit; and the kaluwang (noctilio) is quite large. I've seen massive groups of them flying high in the sky, almost like they're migrating from one place to another. Captain Forrest mentions that they cross the Straits of Sunda from Java Head to Mount Pugong, and they can also be found hanging in the hundreds on trees. The flying-foxes and flying-squirrels (Lemur volans), which can glide short distances thanks to a membrane stretching from their forelegs to their back legs, are also fairly common.
ALLIGATORS AND OTHER LIZARDS.
Alligators and other reptiles.
Alligators, buaya (Crocodilus biporcatus of Cuvier), abound in most of the rivers, grow to a large Size, and do much mischief.
Alligators, or buaya (Crocodilus biporcatus of Cuvier), are found in many rivers, grow to a large size, and cause a lot of trouble.
The guana, or iguana, biawak (Lacerta iguana) is another animal of the lizard kind, about three or four feet in length, harmless, excepting to the poultry and young domestic cattle, and sometimes itself eaten as food. The bingkarong is next in size, has hard, dark scales on the back, and is often found under heaps of decayed timber; its bite venomous.
The guana, or iguana, biawak (Lacerta iguana) is another lizard species, about three to four feet long, harmless except to poultry and young livestock, and sometimes it is eaten as food. The bingkarong is next in size, has tough, dark scales on its back, and is often found under piles of rotten wood; its bite is venomous.
The koke, goke, or toke, as it is variously called, is a lizard, about ten or twelve inches long, frequenting old buildings, and making a very singular noise. Between this and the small house-lizard (chichak) are many gradations in size, chiefly of the grass-lizard kind, which is smooth and glossy. The former are in length from about four inches down to an inch or less, and are the largest reptiles that can walk in an inverted situation: one of these, of size sufficient to devour a cockroach, runs on the ceiling of a room, and in that situation seizes its prey with the utmost facility. This they seem to be enabled to do from the rugose structure of their feet, with which they adhere strongly to the smoothest surface. Sometimes however, on springing too eagerly at a fly, they lose their hold, and drop to the floor, on which occasions a circumstance occurs not undeserving of notice. The tail being frequently separated from the body by the shock (as it may be at any of the vertebrae by the slightest force, without loss of blood or evident pain to the animal, and sometimes, as it would seem, from the effect of fear alone) within a little time, like the mutilated claw of a lobster, begins to renew itself. They are produced from eggs about the size of the wren's, of which the female carries two at a time, one in the lower, and one in the upper part of the abdomen, on opposite sides; they are always cold to the touch, and yet the transparency of their bodies gives an opportunity of observing that their fluids have as brisk a circulation as those of warm-blooded animals: in none have I seen the peristaltic motion so obvious as in these. It may not be useless to mention that these phenomena were best observed at night when the lizard was on the outside of a pane of glass, with a candle on the inside. There is, I believe, no class of living creatures in which the gradations can be traced with such minuteness and regularity as in this; where, from the small animal just described, to the huge alligator or crocodile, a chain may be traced containing almost innumerable links, of which the remotest have a striking resemblance to each other, and seem, at first view, to differ only in bulk.
The koke, goke, or toke, as it’s variously called, is a lizard about ten to twelve inches long that hangs out in old buildings and makes a very unique noise. There are many sizes between this and the small house-lizard (chichak), mostly from the smooth and shiny grass-lizard type. The former range from about four inches down to an inch or less, and they are the largest reptiles that can move upside down: one of these, big enough to eat a cockroach, scurries on the ceiling of a room and easily catches its prey in that position. They manage to do this because of the rough structure of their feet, which lets them grip even the smoothest surfaces strongly. However, sometimes when they leap too eagerly at a fly, they lose their grip and fall to the floor, which leads to an interesting occurrence. The tail can often snap off from the body due to the impact (this can happen at any vertebra with the slightest force, without causing blood loss or noticeable pain to the animal, and sometimes it seems to happen from fear alone). Soon after, like the lost claw of a lobster, it starts to regrow. They hatch from eggs about the size of wren eggs, and the female carries two at a time, one in the lower abdomen and one in the upper part, on opposite sides. They are always cold to the touch, yet the clarity of their bodies allows us to see that their fluids circulate just as actively as those of warm-blooded animals: I’ve never seen the wave-like movement as clearly in any other creatures as in these. It’s worth mentioning that these phenomena were best observed at night when the lizard was outside a glass pane, with a candle inside. I believe there’s no group of living creatures where you can trace such small and regular gradations as here; from the small lizard just described to the massive alligator or crocodile, there’s a chain that seems to include almost countless links, with the most distant ones bearing a striking resemblance to one another and appearing, at first glance, to differ only in size.
CHAMELEON.
CHAMELEON.
The chameleon, gruning: these are about a foot and half long, including the tail; the colour, green with brown spots, as I had it preserved; when alive in the woods they are generally green, but not from the reflection of the leaves, as some have supposed. When first caught they usually turn brown, apparently the effect of fear or anger, as men become pale or red; but if undisturbed soon resume a deep green on the back, and a yellow green on the belly, the tail remaining brown. Along the spine, from the head to the middle of the back, little membranes stand up like the teeth of a saw. As others of the genus of lacerta they feed on flies and grasshoppers, which the large size of their mouths and peculiar structure of their bony tongues are well adapted for catching.
The chameleon, grunting: these are about a foot and a half long, including the tail; the color is green with brown spots, as I had it preserved; when alive in the woods, they are generally green, but not due to the reflection of the leaves, as some have assumed. When first caught, they usually turn brown, seemingly from fear or anger, just as people become pale or red; but if left alone, they soon go back to a deep green on their backs and a yellow-green on their bellies, with the tail remaining brown. Along the spine, from the head to the middle of the back, little membranes stick up like the teeth of a saw. Like others in the lacerta family, they eat flies and grasshoppers, which their large mouths and unique bony tongues are well designed to catch.
The flying lizard, kubin, or chachak terbang (Draco volans), is about eight inches in its extreme length, and the membranes which constitute the wings are about two or three inches in extent. These do not connect with the fore and hind legs, as in the bat tribe, but are supported by an elongation of the alternate ribs, as pointed out by my friend Mr. Everard Home. They have flapped ears, and a singular kind of pouch or alphorges, under the jaws. In other respects they much resemble the chameleon in appearance. They do not take distant flights, but merely from tree to tree, or from one bough to another. The natives take them by springs fastened to the stems.
The flying lizard, kubin, or chachak terbang (Draco volans), is about eight inches long at most, and its wing membranes extend about two or three inches. Unlike bats, these wings don’t connect to the fore and hind legs but are supported by an extension of the alternate ribs, as my friend Mr. Everard Home pointed out. They have flapped ears and a unique pouch or alphorges beneath their jaws. Other than that, they look a lot like chameleons. They don’t fly long distances but just jump from tree to tree or from one branch to another. The locals catch them using traps attached to the stems.
FROGS. SNAKES.
Frogs. Snakes.
With animals of the frog kind (kodok) the swamps everywhere teem; and their noise upon the approach of rain is tremendous. They furnish prey to the snakes, which are found here of all sizes and in great variety of species; the larger proportion harmless, but of some, and those generally small and dark-coloured, the bite is mortal. If the cobra capelo, or hooded snake, be a native of the island, as some assert, it must be extremely rare. The largest of the boa kind (ular sauh) that I had an opportunity of observing was no more than twelve feet long. This was killed in a hen-house where it was devouring the poultry. It is very surprising, but not less true, that snakes will swallow animals of twice or three times their own apparent circumference; having in their jaws or throat a compressive force that gradually and by great efforts reduces the prey to a convenient dimension. I have seen a small snake (ular sini) with the hinder legs of a frog sticking out of its mouth, each of them nearly equal to the smaller parts of its own body, which in the thickest did not exceed a man's little finger. The stories told of their swallowing deer, and even buffaloes, in Ceylon and Java, almost choke belief, but I cannot take upon me to pronounce them false; for if a snake of three inches diameter can gorge a fowl of six, one of thirty feet in length and proportionate bulk and strength might well be supposed capable of swallowing a beast of the size of a goat; and I have respectable authority for the fact that the fawn of a kijang or roe was cut out of the body of a very large snake killed at one of the southern settlements. The poisonous kinds are distinguished by the epithet of ular bisa, among which is the biludak or viper. The ular garang, or sea-snake, is coated entirely with scales, both on the belly and tail, not differing from those on the back, which are small and hexagonal; the colour is grey, with here and there shades of brown. The head and about one-third of the body from thence is the smallest part, and it increases in bulk towards the tail, which resembles that of the eel. It has not any dog-fangs.
Frogs fill the swamps everywhere, and their noise when it rains is huge. They provide food for the snakes found here in all sizes and a wide variety of species; most are harmless, but some, usually small and dark, have deadly bites. If the hooded snake (cobra capelo) is indeed native to the island, as some claim, it must be very rare. The biggest boa (ular sauh) I saw was only twelve feet long. It was found in a hen-house where it was eating the chickens. It’s surprising, but true, that snakes can swallow animals that are twice or three times their own width; their jaws and throat have a strong compressive force that slowly reduces prey to a more manageable size. I once saw a small snake (ular sini) with a frog's hind legs sticking out of its mouth, each leg nearly the size of the smaller parts of its own body, which at the thickest was no bigger than a man's little finger. The stories of snakes swallowing deer and even buffaloes in Ceylon and Java are hard to believe, but I can't say they're false; after all, if a snake three inches wide can swallow a chicken six inches wide, one thirty feet long and of similar width and strength could probably manage a goat. I have credible evidence that a deer fawn was found inside a very large snake killed in one of the southern settlements. Poisonous snakes are called ular bisa, which includes the biludak or viper. The ular garang, or sea snake, is completely covered in scales, both on its belly and tail, with small hexagonal scales like those on its back; its color is grey with brownish shades here and there. Its head and about a third of its body from there is the narrowest part, and it grows thicker towards the tail, which looks like an eel's. It doesn’t have any fangs like a dog.
TORTOISE.
Turtle.
The tortoise, kura-kura, and turtle, katong, are both found in these seas; the former valuable for its scales, and the latter as food; the landtortoise (Testudo graeca) is brought from the Seychelles Islands.
The tortoise, kura-kura, and turtle, katong, can all be found in these seas; the tortoise is prized for its scales, while the turtle is valued as food; the land tortoise (Testudo graeca) is brought from the Seychelles Islands.
There is also an extensive variety of shellfish. The crayfish, udang laut (Cancer homarus or ecrevisse-de-mer), is as large as the lobster, but wants its biting claws. The small freshwater crayfish, the prawns and shrimps (all named udang, with distinctive epithets), are in great perfection.
There is also a wide range of shellfish. The crayfish, udang laut (Cancer homarus or ecrevisse-de-mer), is as large as the lobster but lacks its powerful claws. The small freshwater crayfish, along with the prawns and shrimps (all called udang, with specific names), are in excellent quality.
The crab, kapiting and katam (cancer), is not equally fine, but exhibits many extraordinary varieties.
The crab, kapiting, and katam (cancer) aren’t all the same quality, but they come in many amazing varieties.
The kima, or gigantic cockle (chama), has been already mentioned.
The kima, or giant cockle (chama), has already been mentioned.
The oysters, tiram, are by no means so good as those of Europe. The smaller kind are generally found adhering to the roots of the mangrove, in the wash of the tide.
The oysters, known as tiram, are definitely not as good as those from Europe. The smaller ones are usually found stuck to the roots of the mangrove, in the tidal currents.
The mussel, kupang (mytilus), rimis (donax), kapang (Teredo navalis), seaegg, bulu babi (echinus), bia papeda (nautilus), ruma gorita (argonauta), bia unam (murex), bia balang (cuprea), and many others may be added to the list. The beauty of the madrepores and corallines, of which the finest specimens are found in the recesses of the Bay of Tappanuli, is not to be surpassed in any country. Of these a superb collection is in the possession of Mr. John Griffiths, who has given, in Volume 96 of the Philosophical Transactions, the Description of a rare species of Worm-Shells, discovered at an island lying off the North-west coast of Sumatra. In the same volume is also a Paper by Mr. Everard Home, containing Observations on the Shell of the Sea Worm found on the Coast of Sumatra, proving it to belong to a species of Teredo; with an Account of the Anatomy of the Teredo navalis. The former he proposes to call the Teredo gigantea. The sea-grass, or ladang laut, concerning which Sir James Lancaster tells some wonderful stories, partakes of the nature of a sea-worm and of a coralline; in its original state it is soft and shrinks into the sand from the touch; but when dry it is quite hard, straight, and brittle.
The mussel, kupang (mytilus), rimis (donax), kapang (Teredo navalis), sea egg, bulu babi (echinus), bia papeda (nautilus), ruma gorita (argonauta), bia unam (murex), bia balang (cuprea), and many others could be added to the list. The beauty of the madrepores and corallines, with the finest specimens found in the depths of the Bay of Tappanuli, is unmatched anywhere else. A superb collection of these is owned by Mr. John Griffiths, who describes a rare species of Worm-Shells in Volume 96 of the Philosophical Transactions, discovered on an island off the northwest coast of Sumatra. Also in this volume is a paper by Mr. Everard Home, which includes observations on the shell of the Sea Worm found on the coast of Sumatra, confirming it as a species of Teredo, along with an account of the anatomy of the Teredo navalis. He suggests calling this species Teredo gigantea. The sea grass, or ladang laut, which Sir James Lancaster shares some fascinating stories about, behaves like both a sea worm and a coralline; in its natural state, it is soft and shrinks into the sand when touched, but when dried, it becomes hard, straight, and brittle.
FISH.
FISH.
The duyong is a very large sea-animal or fish, of the order of mammalia, with two large pectoral fins serving the purposes of feet. By the early Dutch voyagers it was, without any obvious analogy, called the sea-cow; and from the circumstance of the head being covered with a kind of shaggy hair, and the mammae of the female being placed immediately under the pectus, it has given rise to the stories of mermaids in the tropical seas. The tusks are applied to the same uses as ivory, especially for the handles of krises, and being whiter are more prized. It has much general resemblance to the manatee or lamantin of the West Indies, and has been confounded with it; but the distinction between them has been ascertained by M. Cuvier, Annales du Museum d'Histoire Naturelle 22 cahier page 308.*
The duyong is a very large marine animal or fish, belonging to the order of mammals, with two big front fins that serve as feet. Early Dutch explorers referred to it as the sea-cow, without any clear reason for the name. Because its head is covered with a sort of shaggy hair and the female's breasts are located right under the chest, it has led to tales of mermaids in tropical oceans. The tusks are used for the same purposes as ivory, especially for making handles of krises, and because they are whiter, they are more valued. It bears a strong resemblance to the manatee or lamantin found in the West Indies, and they have often been mistaken for one another. However, M. Cuvier clarified the differences between them in Annales du Museum d'Histoire Naturelle 22 cahier page 308.*
(*Footnote. "Some time ago (says Captain Forrest) a large fish, with valuable teeth, being cast ashore in the Illana districts, there arose a dispute who should have the teeth, but the Magindanoers carried it." Voyage to New Guinea page 272. See also Valentyn Volume 3 page 341.)
(*Footnote. "Not long ago (says Captain Forrest), a large fish with valuable teeth was washed ashore in the Illana region, which led to a dispute over who should keep the teeth, but the Magindanoers took it." Voyage to New Guinea page 272. See also Valentyn Volume 3 page 341.)
WHALE.
WHALE.
The grampus whale (species of delphinus) is well known to the natives by the names of pawus and gajah mina; but I do not recollect to have heard any instance of their being thrown upon the coast.
The grampus whale (a type of dolphin) is familiar to the locals as pawus and gajah mina; however, I don’t recall hearing about any cases of them being washed up on the shore.
VOILIER.
Sailboat.
Of the ikan layer (genus novum schombro affine) a grand specimen is preserved in the British Museum, where it was deposited by Sir Joseph Banks;* and a description of it by the late M. Brousonet, under the name of le Voilier, is published in the Mem. de l'Acad. de Scien. de Paris for 1786 page 450 plate 10. It derives its appellation from the peculiarity of its dorsal fin, which rises so high as to suggest the idea of a sail; but it is most remarkable for what should rather be termed its snout than its horn, being an elongation of the frontal bone, and the prodigious force with which it occasionally strikes the bottoms of ships, mistaking them, as we may presume, for its enemy or prey. A large fragment of one of these bones, which had transfixed the plank of an East India ship, and penetrated about eighteen inches, is likewise preserved in the same national collection, together with the piece of plank, as it was cut out of the ship's bottom upon her being docked in England. Several accidents of a similar nature are known to have occurred. There is an excellent representation of this fish, under the name of fetisso, in Barbot's Description of the Coasts of Guinea, plate 18, which is copied in Astley's Collection of Voyages, Volume 2 plate 73.
Of the ikan layer (genus novum schombro affine), a stunning specimen is held in the British Museum, where it was donated by Sir Joseph Banks;* and a description of it by the late M. Brousonet, under the name le Voilier, is published in the Mem. de l'Acad. de Scien. de Paris for 1786, page 450, plate 10. It gets its name from the unique shape of its dorsal fin, which rises high and resembles a sail; but it’s most notable for what should be called its snout rather than its horn, as it’s an extension of the frontal bone, and the incredible force it sometimes uses to strike the bottoms of ships, likely mistaking them for its enemy or prey. A large piece of one of these bones, which pierced the hull of an East India ship and penetrated about eighteen inches, is also preserved in the same national collection, along with the section of plank, as it was cut out of the ship's bottom when it was brought to dock in England. Several similar incidents are known to have happened. There is an excellent illustration of this fish, called fetisso, in Barbot’s Description of the Coasts of Guinea, plate 18, which is included in Astley’s Collection of Voyages, Volume 2, plate 73.
(*Footnote. This fish was hooked by Mr. John Griffiths near the southern extremity of the west coast of Sumatra, and was given to Captain Cumming of the Britannia indiaman, by whom it was presented to Sir Joseph Banks.)
(*Footnote. Mr. John Griffiths caught this fish near the southern tip of the west coast of Sumatra and gave it to Captain Cumming of the Britannia indiaman, who then presented it to Sir Joseph Banks.)
VARIOUS FISH.
DIFFERENT TYPES OF FISH.
To attempt an enumeration of the species of fish with which these seas abound would exceed my power, and I shall only mention briefly some of the most obvious; as the shark, hiyu (squalus); skate, ikan pari (raya); ikan mua (muraena); ikan chanak (gymnotus); ikan gajah (cepole); ikan karang or bonna (chaetodon), described by Mr. John Bell in Volume 82 of the Philosophical Transactions. It is remarkable for certain tumours filled with oil, attached to its bones. There are also the ikan krapo, a kind of rock-cod or sea-perch; ikan marrang or kitang (teuthis), commonly named the leather fish, and among the best brought to table; jinnihin, a rock-fish shaped like a carp; bawal or pomfret (species of chaetodon); balanak, jumpul, and marra, three fish of the mullet kind (mugil); kuru (polynemus); ikan lidah, a kind of sole; tingeri, resembles the mackerel; gagu, catfish; summa, a river fish, resembling the salmon; ringkis, resembles the trout, and is noted for the size of its roe; ikan tambarah, I believe the shad of Siak River; ikan gadis, good river fish, about the size of a carp; ikan bada, small, like white bait; ikan gorito, sepia; ikan terbang, flying-fish (exocoetus). The little seahorse (Syngnathus hippocampus) is commonly found here.
Listing all the species of fish found in these seas would be beyond my ability, so I’ll just briefly mention some of the most noticeable ones: the shark (hiyu or squalus); skate (ikan pari or raya); eel (ikan mua or muraena); knifefish (ikan chanak or gymnotus); elephant fish (ikan gajah or cepole); coral fish (ikan karang or bonna, described by Mr. John Bell in Volume 82 of the Philosophical Transactions), known for the oil-filled tumors attached to its bones. There's also the rock cod or sea perch (ikan krapo); leatherfish (ikan marrang or kitang, which is among the best for dining); jinnihin, a rock fish that looks like carp; pomfret (bawal or species of chaetodon); three types of mullet (balanak, jumpul, and marra); white mullet (kuru or polynemus); sole (ikan lidah); something similar to mackerel (tingeri); catfish (gagu); a river fish that resembles salmon (summa); a trout-like fish known for its large roe (ringkis); I believe the shad from the Siak River is referred to as ikan tambarah; a good river fish about the size of a carp (ikan gadis); small fish like whitebait (ikan bada); sepia (ikan gorito); and flying fish (ikan terbang or exocoetus). The little seahorse (Syngnathus hippocampus) is commonly found here.
BIRDS.
Birds.
Of birds the variety is considerable, and the following list contains but a small portion of those that might be discovered in the island by a qualified person who should confine his researches to that branch of natural history.
Of birds, there is a wide variety, and the following list includes just a small selection of those that could be found on the island by someone knowledgeable who focuses their studies on that area of natural history.
KUWAU.
KUWAU.
The kuwau, or Sumatran pheasant (Phasianus argus), is a bird of uncommon magnificence and beauty; the plumage being perhaps the most rich, without any mixture of gaudiness, of all the feathered race. It is found extremely difficult to keep it alive for any considerable time after catching it in the woods, yet it has in one instance been brought to England; but, having lost its fine feathers by the voyage, it did not excite curiosity, and died unnoticed. There is now a good specimen in the Liverpool Museum. It has in its natural state an antipathy to the light, and in the open day is quite moped and inanimate. When kept in a darkened place it seems at its ease, and sometimes makes use of the note or call from which it takes its name, and which is rather plaintive than harsh. The flesh, of which I have eaten, perfectly resembles that of the common pheasant (tugang), also found in the woods, but the body is of much larger size. I have reason to believe that it is not, as supposed, a native of the North or any part of China. From the Malayan Islands, of which it is the boast, it must be frequently carried thither.
The kuwau, or Sumatran pheasant (Phasianus argus), is a bird of rare magnificence and beauty; its plumage is possibly the richest, without any hint of gaudiness, among all feathered species. It is incredibly difficult to keep it alive for any significant period after catching it in the wild, yet it has been brought to England once; however, it lost its stunning feathers during the journey, and didn't attract attention, ultimately dying unnoticed. There is now a good example in the Liverpool Museum. In its natural environment, it has a dislike for light and is quite lethargic and unresponsive during daylight. When kept in a dim place, it appears more comfortable and occasionally produces the call from which it gets its name, which is rather mournful than harsh. The meat, which I have tasted, is very similar to that of the common pheasant (tugang), also found in the woods, but its body is significantly larger. I believe that it is not, as thought, a native of the North or anywhere in China. From the Malayan Islands, which it is proud of, it must frequently be transported there.
PEACOCK, ETC.
PEACOCK, ETC.
The peacock, burong marak (pavo), appears to be well known to the natives, though I believe not common.
The peacock, burong marak (pavo), seems to be familiar to the locals, although I think it’s not very common.
I should say the same of the eagle and the vulture (coracias), to the one or the other of which the name of raja wali is familiarly applied.
I should say the same about the eagle and the vulture (coracias), to which the name raja wali is commonly applied.
The kite, alang (falco), is very common, as is the crow, gadak (corvus), and jackdaw, pong (gracula), with several species of the woodpecker.
The kite, alang (falco), is very common, as is the crow, gadak (corvus), and jackdaw, pong (gracula), along with several species of woodpeckers.
The kingfisher (alcedo) is named burong buaya, or the alligator-bird.
The kingfisher (alcedo) is called burong buaya, or the alligator-bird.
The bird-of-paradise, burong supan, or elegant-bird, is known here only in the dried state, as brought from the Moluccas and coast of New Guinea (tanah papuah).
The bird-of-paradise, known as burong supan or elegant-bird, is recognized here only in its dried form, as it is brought in from the Moluccas and the coast of New Guinea (tanah papuah).
The rhinoceros bird, hornbill, or calao (buceros), called by the natives anggang and burong taun, is chiefly remarkable for what is termed the horn, which in the most common species extends halfway down the upper mandible of its large beak, and then turns up; but the varieties of shape are numerous. The length of one I measured whilst alive was ten inches and a half; the breadth, including the horn, six and a half; length from beak to tail four feet; wings four feet six inches; height one foot; length of neck one foot; the beak whitish; the horn yellow and red; the body black; the tail white ringed with black; rump, and feathers on the legs down to the heel, white; claws three before and one behind; the iris red. In a hen chick there was no appearance of a horn, and the iris was whitish. They eat either boiled rice or tender fresh meat. Of the use of such a singular cavity I could not learn any plausible conjecture. As a receptacle for water, it must be quite unnecessary in the country of which it is a native.
The rhinoceros bird, hornbill, or calao (buceros), known to locals as anggang and burong taun, is mainly notable for its horn, which in the most common species extends halfway down the upper mandible of its large beak and then curves upwards; however, there are many different shapes. One that I measured while alive was ten and a half inches long; its width, including the horn, was six and a half inches; the length from beak to tail was four feet; its wings spanned four feet six inches; it stood one foot tall; its neck was one foot long; the beak was whitish; the horn was yellow and red; the body was black; the tail had white rings with black; the rump and leg feathers down to the heel were white; it had three toes in front and one behind; and the iris was red. In a female chick, there was no sign of a horn, and the iris was whitish. They eat either boiled rice or tender fresh meat. I couldn’t find any reasonable explanation for the purpose of such a unique cavity. As a water holder, it must be quite unnecessary in its native land.
STORK, ETC.
STORK, ETC.
Of the stork kind there are several species, some of great height and otherwise curious, as the burong kambing and burong ular, which frequent the rice plantations in wet ground.
There are several types of storks, some of which are quite tall and interesting, like the burong kambing and burong ular, which are commonly found in rice fields in wet areas.
We find also the heron, burong kuntul (ardea); the snipe, kandidi (scolopax); the coot, or water-hen, ayam ayer (fulica); and the plover, cheruling (charadrius).
We also find the heron, burong kuntul (ardea); the snipe, kandidi (scolopax); the coot, or water-hen, ayam ayer (fulica); and the plover, cheruling (charadrius).
The cassowary, burong rusa, is brought from the island of Java.
The cassowary, burong rusa, is brought over from the island of Java.
The domestic hen is as common as in most other countries. In some the bones (or the periostea) are black, and these are at least equally good as food. The hen of the woods, ayam barugo, or ayam utan (which latter name is in some places applied to the pheasant), differs little from the common sort, excepting in the uniformity of its brown colour. In the Lampong country of Sumatra and western part of Java lying opposite to it there is a very large breed of fowls, called ayam jago; of these I have seen a cock peck from off of a common dining table; when inclined to rest they sit on the first joint of the leg and are then taller than the ordinary fowls. It is singular if the same country produces likewise the diminutive breed that goes by the name of bantam.
The domestic hen is as common as in most other countries. In some places, the bones (or the periostea) are black, and these are just as good for food. The hen of the woods, ayam barugo, or ayam utan (which in some areas is used for the pheasant), is not very different from the common kind, except for its uniform brown color. In the Lampong region of Sumatra and the western part of Java opposite it, there is a very large breed of chickens called ayam jago; I once saw a rooster pecking food off a regular dining table. When they choose to rest, they sit on the first joint of their leg, making them taller than typical chickens. It's interesting that the same region also has a tiny breed called bantam.
A species of partridge is called ayam gunong, or mountain hen.
A type of partridge is known as ayam gunong, or mountain hen.
DOVES.
Doves.
Beside the pigeon, merapeti and burong darah (columba), and two common species of doves, the one of a light brown or dove-colour, called ballum, and the other green, called punei, there are of the latter some most exquisite varieties: the punei jambu is smaller than the usual size of doves; the back, wings, and tail are green; the breast and crop are white, but the front of the latter has a slight shade of pink; the forepart of the head is of a deep pink, resembling the blossom of the jambu fruit, from whence its name; the white of the breast is continued in a narrow streak, having the green on one side and the pink on the other, half round the eye, which is large, full, and yellow; of which colour is also the beak. It will live upon boiled rice and padi; but its favourite food, when wild, is the berry of the rumpunnei (Ardisia coriacea), perhaps from this circumstance so called. The selaya, or punei andu, another variety, has the body and wings of deep crimson, with the head, and extremity of its long indented tail, white; the legs red. It lives on the worms generated in the decayed part of old trees, and is about the size of a blackbird. Of the same size is the burong sawei, a bird of a bluish black colour, with a dove-tail, from which extend two very long feathers, terminating circularly. It seems to be what is called the widow-bird, and is formidable to the kite.
Next to the pigeon, there are the merapeti and burong darah (columba), as well as two common species of doves: one that’s light brown or dove-colored, known as ballum, and another that’s green, called punei. Among the punei, there are some truly exquisite varieties. The punei jambu is smaller than typical doves; its back, wings, and tail are green, while its breast and crop are white, though the front of the crop has a slight pink hue. The front of its head is a deep pink, resembling the blossom of the jambu fruit, which is how it got its name. The white on its breast extends into a thin streak that wraps halfway around its eye, which is large, full, and yellow, matching the color of its beak. It feeds on boiled rice and padi, but in the wild, its favorite food is the berry of the rumpunnei (Ardisia coriacea), possibly named after that. Another variety, the selaya or punei andu, has a body and wings of deep crimson, with a white head and tips of its long, indented tail, and red legs. It eats the worms that form in the decayed parts of old trees and is about the size of a blackbird. The burong sawei is similar in size and has a bluish-black color with a dove-like tail, extending two very long feathers that end in a circular shape. It appears to be what people call the widow-bird and is quite a threat to the kite.
The burong pipit resembles the sparrow in its appearance, habits, numbers, and the destruction it causes to the grain.
The burong pipit looks like a sparrow in its appearance, behavior, population, and the damage it does to the crops.
The quail, puyuh (coturnix); but whether a native or a bird of passage, I cannot determine.
The quail, puyuh (coturnix); but I can't tell if it's a native bird or one that migrates.
The starling (sturnus), of which I know not the Malayan name.
The starling (sturnus), which I don't know the Malayan name for.
The swallow, layang-layang (hirundo), one species of which, called layang buhi, from its being supposed to collect the froth of the sea, is that which constructs the edible nests.
The swallow, layang-layang (hirundo), one type of which is known as layang buhi because it’s thought to gather the sea’s froth, is the one that builds the edible nests.
The murei, or dial-bird, resembling a small magpie, has a pretty but short note. There is not any bird in the country that can be said to sing. The tiyong, or mino, a black bird with yellow gills, has the faculty of imitating human speech in greater perfection than any other of the feathered tribe. There is also a yellow species, but not loquacious.
The murei, or dial-bird, looks like a small magpie and has a pretty but brief song. There's no bird in the country that can truly be said to sing. The tiyong, or mino, is a black bird with yellow gills that can imitate human speech better than any other bird. There's also a yellow version, but it's not very talkative.
Of the parrot kind the variety is not so great as might be expected, and consists chiefly of those denominated parakeets. The beautiful luri, though not uncommon, is brought from the eastward. The kakatua is an inhabitant chiefly of the southern extremity of the island.
Of parrots, the variety isn't as extensive as one might think, primarily consisting of what's known as parakeets. The beautiful luri, while not rare, comes from the east. The kakatua mostly lives in the southern part of the island.
The Indian goose, angsa and gangsa (anser); the duck, bebek and itik (anas); and the teal, belibi, are common.
The Indian goose, angsa and gangsa (anser); the duck, bebek and itik (anas); and the teal, belibi, are common.
INSECTS.
Insects.
With insects the island may truly be said to swarm; and I doubt whether there is any part of the world where greater variety is to be found. Of these I shall only attempt to enumerate a few:
With insects, the island can really be said to swarm; and I doubt there’s any place in the world where there’s greater variety. I’ll only try to list a few of them:
The kunang, or firefly, larger than the common fly, (which it resembles), with the phosphoric matter in the abdomen, regularly and quickly intermitting its light, as if by respiration; by holding one of them in my hand I could see to read at night;
The kunang, or firefly, which is larger than an ordinary fly (that it looks like), has a glowing substance in its abdomen that lights up and dims rapidly, almost like breathing. By holding one of them in my hand, I was able to see well enough to read at night;
Lipas, the cockroach (blatta); chingkarek, the cricket (gryllus);
Lipas, the cockroach; chingkarek, the cricket
Lebah, taun, the bee (apis), whose honey is gathered in the woods; kumbang, a species of apis, that bores its nest in timber, and thence acquires the name of the carpenter;
Lebah, tahun, the bee (apis), whose honey is collected in the woods; kumbang, a type of apis, that drills its nest in wood, and hence gets the name of the carpenter;
Sumut, the ant (formica), the multitudes of which overrun the country, and its varieties are not less extraordinary than its numbers. The following distinctions are the most obvious: the krangga, or great red ant, about three-fourths of an inch long, bites severely, and usually leaves its head, as a bee its sting, in the wound; it is found mostly on trees and bushes, and forms its nest by fastening together, with a glutinous matter, a collection of the leaves of a branch, as they grow; the common red ant; the minute red ant; the large black ant, not equal in size to the krangga, but with a head of disproportioned bulk; the common black ant; and the minute black ant: they also differ from each other in a circumstance which I believe has not been attended to; and that is the sensation with which they affect the taste when put into the mouth, as frequently happens unintentionally: some are hot and acrid, some bitter, and some sour. Perhaps this will be attributed to the different kinds of food they have accidentally devoured; but I never found one which tasted sweet, though I have caught them in the fact of robbing a sugar or honey-pot. Each species of ant is a declared enemy of the other, and never suffers a divided empire. Where one party effects a settlement the other is expelled; and in general they are powerful in proportion to their bulk, with the exception of the white-ant, sumut putih (termes), which is beaten from the field by others of inferior size; and for this reason it is a common expedient to strew sugar on the floor of a warehouse in order to allure the formicae to the spot, who do not fail to combat and overcome the ravaging but unwarlike termites. Of this insect and its destructive qualities I had intended to give some description, but the subject is so elaborately treated (though with some degree of fancy) by Mr. Smeathman, in Volume 71 of the Philosophical Transactions for 1781, who had an opportunity of observing them in Africa, that I omit it as superfluous.
Sumut, the ant (formica), whose vast numbers take over the country, has varieties that are just as remarkable as its sheer quantity. The following distinctions are the most evident: the krangga, or great red ant, which is about three-fourths of an inch long, bites hard and usually leaves its head, like a bee leaves its sting, in the wound; it mostly lives in trees and bushes, creating its nest by sticking together the leaves of branches using a sticky substance as they grow; the common red ant; the tiny red ant; the large black ant, which isn’t as big as the krangga but has a disproportionately large head; the common black ant; and the tiny black ant. They also differ in a way that I think hasn’t been noted: the taste they leave when they get accidentally put in the mouth. Some taste hot and spicy, some bitter, and some sour. This might be linked to the different types of food they accidentally consume, but I’ve never found one that tasted sweet, even though I’ve seen them stealing from a sugar or honey pot. Each species of ant is a sworn enemy of the others and does not share territory. When one group establishes a colony, the other is driven out; in general, they are strong in proportion to their size, except for the white ant, sumut putih (termes), which gets pushed out by smaller rivals. For this reason, it’s common to spread sugar on the floor of a warehouse to lure the ants, who do not hesitate to fight and defeat the destructive but non-aggressive termites. I had planned to describe this insect and its damaging traits, but since Mr. Smeathman thoroughly covered the topic (albeit with some embellishments) in Volume 71 of the Philosophical Transactions for 1781, having observed them in Africa, I’ll skip it as unnecessary.
Of the wasp kind there are several curious varieties. One of them may be observed building its nest of moistened clay against a wall, and inclosing in each of its numerous compartments a living spider; thus revenging upon this bloodthirsty race the injuries sustained by harmless flies, and providently securing for its own young a stock of food.
There are several interesting types of wasps. One variety can be seen building its nest from damp clay against a wall, trapping a living spider in each of its many compartments. In doing so, it gets back at this predatory species for the harm done to harmless flies, while also making sure its young have a supply of food.
Lalat, the common fly (musca); lalat kuda (tabanus); lalat karbau (oestrus);
Lalat, the common fly (musca); lalat kuda (tabanus); lalat karbau (oestrus);
Niamok, agas, the gnat or mosquito (culex), producing a degree of annoyance equal to the sum of all the other physical plagues of a hot climate, but even to these I found that habit rendered me almost indifferent;
Niamok, yeah, the gnat or mosquito (culex), is as annoying as all the other physical irritations of a hot climate put together, but I found that over time I became almost indifferent to them;
Kala-jingking, the scorpion (scorpio), the sting of which is highly inflammatory and painful, but not dangerous;
Kala-jingking, the scorpion (scorpio), has a sting that is very inflammatory and painful, but not life-threatening;
Sipasan, centipede (scholopendra), not so venomous as the preceding;
Sipasan, centipede (scholopendra), not as venomous as the one before.
Alipan (jules);
Alipan (jules);
Alintah, water-leech (hirudo); achih, small land-leech, dropping from the leaves of trees whilst moist with dew, and troublesome to travellers in passing through the woods.
Alintah, water leech (hirudo); achih, small land leech, falling from the leaves of trees when they're wet with dew, causing inconvenience to travelers passing through the woods.
To this list I shall only add the suala, tripan, or sea-slug (holothurion), which, being collected from the rocks and dried in the sun, is exported to China, where it is an article of food.
To this list, I’ll just add the suala, tripan, or sea-slug (holothurion), which is collected from the rocks, dried in the sun, and exported to China as food.
CHAPTER 7.
VEGETABLE PRODUCTIONS OF THE ISLAND CONSIDERED AS ARTICLES OF COMMERCE.
PEPPER.
CULTIVATION OF PEPPER.
CAMPHOR.
BENZOIN.
CASSIA, ETC.
VEGETABLE PRODUCTIONS OF THE ISLAND CONSIDERED AS COMMERCIAL PRODUCTS.
PEPPER.
GROWING PEPPER.
CAMPHOR.
BENZOIN.
CASSIA, ETC.
PEPPER.
Pepper.
OF those productions of Sumatra, which are regarded as articles of commerce, the most important and most abundant is pepper. This is the object of the East India Company's trade thither, and this alone it keeps in its own hands; its servants, and merchants under its protection, being free to deal in every other commodity.
Of the products from Sumatra that are considered commercial goods, the most significant and plentiful is pepper. This is the main focus of the East India Company's trade there, and it is the only one they control themselves; their employees and merchants under their protection are free to trade in any other goods.
ESTABLISHMENT OF THE TRADE.
TRADE ESTABLISHMENT.
Many of the princes or chiefs in different parts of the island having invited the English to form settlements in their respective districts, factories were accordingly established, and a permanency and regularity thereby given to the trade, which was very uncertain whilst it depended upon the success of occasional voyages to the coast; disappointments ensuing not only from failure of adequate quantities of pepper to furnish cargoes when required, but also from the caprices and chicanery of the chiefs with whom the disposal of it lay, the motives of whose conduct could not be understood by those who were unacquainted with the language and manners of the people. These inconveniencies were obviated when the agents of the Company were enabled, by their residence on the spot, to obtain an influence in the country, to inspect the state of the plantations, secure the collection of the produce, and make an estimate of the tonnage necessary for its conveyance to Europe.
Many of the princes or chiefs in various parts of the island invited the English to set up settlements in their areas, leading to the establishment of trading posts. This brought stability and consistency to trade, which had been very unpredictable when it relied on the success of occasional trips to the coast. Disappointments occurred not only due to insufficient amounts of pepper to fill cargoes when needed but also because of the unpredictable behavior and trickery of the chiefs who controlled the trade, whose motives were baffling to those unfamiliar with the local language and customs. These issues were resolved when the Company's agents were able to live on-site, gaining influence in the area, monitoring the state of the plantations, ensuring the collection of the goods, and estimating the shipping capacity needed to transport it to Europe.
In order to bind the chiefs to the observance of their original promises and professions, and to establish a plausible and legal claim, in opposition to the attempts of rival European powers to interfere in the trade of the same country, written contracts, attended with much form and solemnity, were entered into with the former; by which they engaged to oblige all their dependants to cultivate pepper, and to secure to us the exclusive purchase of it; in return for which they were to be protected from their enemies, supported in the rights of sovereignty, and to be paid a certain allowance or custom on the produce of their respective territories.
To ensure that the chiefs stick to their original promises and commitments, and to create a legitimate and credible claim against the attempts of competing European powers to interfere in the trade of the same country, formal written contracts were made with them. These contracts were created with a lot of ceremony, in which the chiefs agreed to make sure that all their subjects cultivated pepper and guaranteed us the exclusive right to buy it. In return, they were to receive protection from their enemies, support for their rights of sovereignty, and a set payment or tax on the produce from their territories.
PRICE.
COST.
The price for many years paid to the cultivators for their produce was ten Spanish dollars or fifty shillings per bahar of five hundredweight or five hundred and sixty pounds. About the year 1780, with a view to their encouragement and the increase of investment, as it is termed, the sum was augmented to fifteen dollars. To this cost is to be added the custom above mentioned, varying in different districts according to specific agreements, but amounting in general to one dollar and a half, or two dollars on each bahar, which is distributed amongst the chiefs at an annual entertainment; and presents are made at the same time to planters who have distinguished themselves by their industry. This low price, at which the natives submit to cultivate the plantations, affording to each man an income of not more than from eight to twelve dollars yearly, and the undisturbed monopoly we have so long possessed of the trade, from near Indrapura northward to Flat Point southward, are doubtless in a principal degree to be attributed to the peculiar manner in which this part of the island is shut up, by the surfs which prevail along the south-west coast, from communication with strangers, whose competition would naturally produce the effect of enhancing the price of the commodity. The general want of anchorage too, for so many leagues to the northward of the Straits of Sunda, has in all ages deterred the Chinese and other eastern merchants from attempting to establish an intercourse that must be attended with imminent risk to unskilful navigators; indeed I understand it to be a tradition among the natives who border on the sea-coast that it is not many hundred years since these parts began to be inhabited, and they speak of their descent as derived from the more inland country. Thus it appears that those natural obstructions, which we are used to lament as the greatest detriment to our trade, are in fact advantages to which it in a great measure owes its existence. In the northern countries of the island, where the people are numerous and their ports good, they are found to be more independent also, and refuse to cultivate plantations upon any other terms than those on which they can deal with private traders.
For many years, growers were paid ten Spanish dollars or fifty shillings for each bahar, which is about five hundredweight or five hundred sixty pounds. Around 1780, to encourage them and boost investment, the amount was raised to fifteen dollars. Additionally, there's a custom that varies by district based on specific agreements, but generally adds about one and a half to two dollars for each bahar. This money goes to local chiefs during an annual event, and gifts are given to planters who have shown exceptional effort. This low payment, which leaves each person earning only eight to twelve dollars a year, along with the strong monopoly we have maintained over the trade from just north of Indrapura to Flat Point in the south, is largely due to the unique way this part of the island is isolated. The rough waters along the southwest coast prevent interactions with outsiders, whose competition would likely drive prices up. Additionally, the lack of safe anchorage for many miles north of the Sunda Strait has historically kept Chinese and other eastern merchants from trying to establish trade, which would be risky for inexperienced navigators. In fact, it's said among the coastal natives that people have only settled here in the last few hundred years, claiming their ancestry from more inland regions. Thus, it seems that the natural barriers we commonly bemoan as major hindrances to our trade are actually significant advantages that help sustain it. In the northern parts of the island, where the population is larger and the ports are better, people tend to be more independent and refuse to work the plantations unless they can negotiate terms with private traders.
CULTIVATION OF PEPPER.
Pepper Farming.
In the cultivation of pepper (Piper nigrum, L.)* the first circumstance that claims attention, and on which the success materially depends, is the choice of a proper site for the plantation. A preference is usually given to level ground lying along the banks of rivers or rivulets, provided they are not so low as to be inundated, both on account of the vegetable mould commonly found there, and the convenience of water-carriage for the produce. Declivities, unless very gentle, are to be avoided, because the soil loosened by culture is liable in such situations to be washed away by heavy rains. When these plains however are naked, or covered with long grass only, they will not be found to answer without the assistance of the plough and of manure, their fertility being exhausted by exposure to the sun. How far the returns in general might be increased by the introduction of these improvements in agriculture I cannot take upon me to determine; but I fear that, from the natural indolence of the natives, and their want of zeal in the business of pepper-planting, occasioned by the smallness of the advantage it yields to them, they will never be prevailed upon to take more pains than they now do. The planters therefore, depending more upon the natural qualities of the soil than on any advantage it might receive from their cultivation, find none to suit their purpose better than those spots which, having been covered with old woods and long fertilized by decaying foliage and trunks, have recently been cleared for ladangs or padi-fields, in the manner already described; where it was also observed that, being allured by the certainty of abundant produce from a virgin soil, and having land for the most part at will, they renew their toil annually, and desert the ground so laboriously prepared after occupying it for one, or at the furthest for two, seasons. Such are the most usual situations chosen for the pepper plantations (kabun) or gardens, as they are termed; but, independently of the culture of rice, land is very frequently cleared for the pepper in the first instance by felling and burning the trees.
In growing pepper (Piper nigrum, L.), the first thing to consider, which significantly affects success, is picking the right spot for the plantation. People usually prefer flat land near rivers or streams, as long as it’s not too low to flood. This is because of the rich soil typically found there and the ease of transporting the harvest. Steep slopes, unless they’re very gentle, should be avoided since the soil can easily wash away during heavy rains. However, if these flat areas are bare or only have long grass, they won’t be productive without plowing and fertilization, since the soil's fertility has diminished due to sun exposure. I can't say exactly how much yields could be boosted with these agricultural improvements, but I worry that because of the native people’s natural laziness and lack of enthusiasm for pepper planting—due to the limited benefits they gain—it’s unlikely they’ll put in more effort than they currently do. Therefore, planters often rely more on the natural qualities of the soil than any improvements they could make, and find the best spots to be those that have been previously covered with old forests and enriched by decaying leaves and trunks, which have recently been cleared for ladangs or rice fields, as mentioned earlier. It was also noted that, drawn by the promise of a bountiful harvest from fresh soil and having land essentially at their disposal, they work hard every year but abandon the fields they painstakingly prepared after just one or, at most, two seasons. These are the common locations chosen for pepper plantations (kabun), or gardens, as they are called; however, aside from rice cultivation, land is often cleared for pepper initially by cutting down and burning the trees.
(*Footnote. See Remarks on the Species of Pepper (and on its Cultivation) at Prince of Wales Island, by Dr. William Hunter, in the Asiatic Researches Volume 9 page 383.)
(*Footnote. Check out the Remarks on the Species of Pepper (and its Cultivation) at Prince of Wales Island, by Dr. William Hunter, in Asiatic Researches Volume 9 page 383.)
FORMATION OF THE GARDEN.
Garden Formation.
The ground is then marked out in form of a regular square or oblong, with intersections throughout at the distance of six feet (being equal to five cubits of the measure of the country), the intended interval between the plants, of which there are commonly either one thousand or five hundred in each garden; the former number being required from those who are heads of families (their wives and children assisting them in their work), and the latter from single men. Industrious or opulent persons sometimes have gardens of two or three thousand vines. A border twelve feet in width, within which limit no tree is suffered to grow, surrounds each garden, and it is commonly separated from others by a row of shrubs or irregular hedge. Where the nature of the country admits of it the whole or greater part of the gardens of a dusun or village lie adjacent to each other, both for the convenience of mutual assistance in labour and mutual protection from wild beasts; single gardens being often abandoned from apprehension of their ravages, and where the owner has been killed in such a situation none will venture to replace him.
The ground is then laid out in a square or rectangular shape, with intersections every six feet (which is equivalent to five cubits in local measurement), that’s the distance between plants. Each garden typically has either one thousand or five hundred plants; the first number is required from heads of families (with their wives and children helping) and the second from single men. Hardworking or wealthy individuals sometimes maintain gardens with two or three thousand vines. A border twelve feet wide, where no trees are allowed to grow, surrounds each garden, and these are usually separated from others by a row of shrubs or a random hedge. In areas where the land allows, most of the gardens in a dusun or village are situated next to each other for easier teamwork and protection from wild animals; individual gardens are often abandoned due to fears of attacks, and if an owner is killed in such circumstances, no one will dare to take their place.
VEGETATING PROPS.
Decorative plants.
After lining out the ground and marking the intersections by slight stakes the next business is to plant the trees that are to become props to the pepper, as the Romans planted elms, and the modern Italians more commonly plant poplars and mulberries, for their grape-vines. These are cuttings of the chungkariang (Erythrina corallodendron), usually called chinkareens, put into the ground about a span deep, sufficiently early to allow time for a shoot to be strong enough to support the young pepper-plant when it comes to twine about it. The cuttings are commonly two feet in length, but sometimes a preference is given to the length of six feet, and the vine is then planted as soon as the chinkareen has taken root: but the principal objections to this method are that in such state they are very liable to fail and require renewal, to the prejudice of the garden; and that their shoots are not so vigorous as those of the short cuttings, frequently growing crooked, or in a lateral instead of a perpendicular direction. The circumstances which render the chinkareen particularly proper for this use are its readiness and quickness of growth, even after the cuttings have been kept some time in bundles,* if put into the ground with the first rains; and the little thorns with which it is armed enabling the vine to take a firmer hold. They are distinguished into two sorts, the white and red, not from the colour of the flowers (as might be supposed) for both are red, but from the tender shoots of the one being whitish and of the other being of a reddish hue. The bark of the former is of a pale ash colour, of the latter brown; the former is sweet, and the food of elephants, for which reason it is not much used in parts frequented by those animals; the latter is bitter and unpalatable to them; but they are not deterred by the short prickles which are common to the branches of both sorts.
After outlining the area and marking the intersections with small stakes, the next step is to plant the trees that will serve as supports for the pepper, similar to how the Romans planted elms, and how modern Italians typically plant poplars and mulberries for their grapevines. These are cuttings of the chungkariang (Erythrina corallodendron), usually referred to as chinkareens, which are inserted into the ground about a span deep, early enough to allow a shoot to grow strong enough to support the young pepper plant when it begins to wrap around it. The cuttings are usually two feet long, but sometimes a preference is given to six-foot lengths, with the vine being planted as soon as the chinkareen takes root. However, the main drawbacks of this approach are that in this state they are very likely to fail and require replacement, which can be detrimental to the garden; and their shoots tend to be less vigorous than those from the shorter cuttings, often growing crookedly or laterally rather than straight up. The features that make the chinkareen particularly suitable for this purpose are its rapid growth, even after the cuttings have been stored in bundles for a while, as long as they are planted in the ground with the first rains; and the small thorns it has, which help the vine get a better grip. They are categorized into two types, white and red, not based on the color of the flowers (as one might think, since both are red) but because the tender shoots of the white variety are whitish, while the shoots of the red variety have a reddish tint. The bark of the white variety is a pale ash color, while the brown bark belongs to the red variety; the white is sweet and is eaten by elephants, which is why it isn’t commonly found in areas where those animals roam; the red variety is bitter and unappetizing to them, but they aren’t deterred by the small prickles that are found on the branches of both types.
(*Footnote. It is a common and useful practice to place these bundles of cuttings in water about two inches deep and afterwards to reject such of them as in that state do not show signs of vegetation.)
(*Footnote. It's common and helpful to put these bundles of cuttings in about two inches of water and then discard any that don't show signs of growth after being in the water.)
Trial has frequently been made of other trees, and particularly of the bangkudu or mangkudu (Morinda citrifolia), but none have been found to answer so well for these vegetating props. It has been doubted indeed whether the growth and produce of the pepper-vine are not considerably injured by the chinkareen, which may rob it of its proper nourishment by exhausting the earth; and on this principle, in other of the eastern islands (Borneo, for instance), the vine is supported by poles in the manner of hops in England. Yet it is by no means clear to me that the Sumatran method is so disadvantageous in the comparison as it may seem; for, as the pepper-plant lasts many years, whilst the poles, exposed to sun and rain, and loaded with a heavy weight, cannot be supposed to continue sound above two seasons, there must be a frequent renewal, which, notwithstanding the utmost care, must lacerate and often destroy the vines. It is probable also that the shelter from the violence of the sun's rays afforded by the branches of the vegetating prop, and which, during the dry monsoon, is of the utmost consequence, may counterbalance the injury occasioned by their roots; not to insist on the opinion of a celebrated writer that trees, acting as siphons, derive from the air and transmit to the earth as much of the principle of vegetation as is expended in their nourishment.
Trial has often been made of other trees, especially the bangkudu or mangkudu (Morinda citrifolia), but none have worked as well for these plant supports. There has been some doubt about whether the growth and yield of the pepper vine are seriously harmed by the chinkareen, which might take away its necessary nutrients by depleting the soil; based on this idea, in other eastern islands (like Borneo), the vine is supported by poles, like hops in England. However, I'm not so sure that the Sumatran method is as disadvantageous as it seems; since the pepper plant lasts for many years, while the poles, exposed to the sun and rain and bearing heavy weight, are unlikely to last more than two seasons, there has to be frequent replacement, which, despite the best care, is bound to damage and often destroy the vines. It's also likely that the shelter from the harsh sun provided by the branches of the supporting plants, especially during the dry monsoon, may offset the damage caused by their roots; not to mention the opinion of a well-known writer that trees, acting as siphons, draw from the air and transfer to the soil as much of the essence of vegetation as is used in their nourishment.
When the most promising shoot of the chinkareen reserved for rearing has attained the height of twelve to fifteen feet (which latter it is not to exceed), or in the second year of its growth, it must be headed or topped; and the branches that then extend themselves laterally, from the upper part only, so long as their shade is required, are afterwards lopped annually at the commencement of the rainy season (about November), leaving little more than the stem; from whence they again shoot out to afford their protection during the dry weather. By this operation also the damage to the plant that would ensue from the droppings of rain from the leaves is avoided.
When the best shoot of the chinkareen set aside for growth reaches a height of twelve to fifteen feet (and should not exceed that), or in its second year of growth, it needs to be topped. The branches that grow out sideways from the upper part will be kept as long as their shade is needed, but they will be cut back every year at the start of the rainy season (around November), leaving just the main stem. From this, new shoots will grow again to provide shade during the dry season. This process also prevents damage to the plant that could occur from rain falling from the leaves.
DESCRIPTION OF THE PEPPER-VINE.
DESCRIPTION OF THE PEPPER VINE.
The pepper-vine is, in its own climate, a hardy plant, growing readily from cuttings or layers, rising in several knotted stems, twining round any neighbouring support, and adhering to it by fibres that shoot from every joint at intervals of six to ten inches, and from which it probably derives a share of its nourishment. If suffered to run along the ground these fibres would become roots; but in this case (like the ivy) it would never exhibit any appearance of fructification, the prop being necessary for encouraging it to throw out its bearing shoots. It climbs to the height of twenty or twenty-five feet, but thrives best when restrained to twelve or fifteen, as in the former case the lower part of the vine bears neither leaves nor fruit, whilst in the latter it produces both from within a foot of the ground. The stalk soon becomes ligneous, and in time acquires considerable thickness. The leaves are of a deep green and glossy surface, heart-shaped, pointed, not pungent to the taste, and have but little smell. The branches are short and brittle, not projecting above two feet from the stem, and separating readily at the joints. The blossom is small and white, the fruit round, green when young and fullgrown, and turning to a bright red when ripe and in perfection. It grows abundantly from all the branches in long small clusters of twenty to fifty grains, somewhat resembling bunches of currants, but with this difference, that every grain adheres to the common stalk, which occasions the cluster of pepper to be more compact, and it is also less pliant.
The pepper vine is a tough plant in its natural environment, easily grown from cuttings or layering. It develops multiple knotted stems that wrap around nearby supports, clinging to them with fibers that shoot out from each joint every six to ten inches, likely providing some of its nutrients. If it’s left to spread along the ground, these fibers would turn into roots; however, in that situation, similar to ivy, it wouldn’t produce any fruit since it needs a support to encourage the growth of its fruit-bearing shoots. It can climb up to twenty or twenty-five feet high, but it grows best when kept to about twelve or fifteen feet, as the lower part of the vine doesn't produce leaves or fruit in the taller form, while in the shorter form, it yields both close to the ground. The stalk quickly becomes woody and over time gets quite thick. The leaves are deep green, shiny, heart-shaped, pointed, not spicy, and have a faint smell. The branches are short and brittle, extending no more than two feet from the stem and easily breaking at the joints. The flowers are small and white, and the fruit is round, green when immature, and turning bright red when fully ripe. It grows plentifully from all branches in long clusters of twenty to fifty berries, somewhat similar to clusters of currants, but with one key difference: each berry is attached to the main stalk, making the cluster of pepper much denser and less flexible.
MODES OF PROPAGATING IT.
WAYS TO SPREAD IT.
The usual mode of propagating the pepper is by cuttings, a foot or two in length, of the horizontal shoots that run along the ground from the foot of the old vines (called lado sulur), and one or two of these are planted within a few inches of the young chinkareen at the same time with it if of the long kind, or six months after if of the short kind, as before described. Some indeed prefer an interval of twelve months; as in good soil the luxuriancy of the vine will often overpower and bear down the prop, if it has not first acquired competent strength. In such soil the vine rises two or three feet in the course of the first year, and four or five more in the second, by which time, or between the second and third year of its growth, it begins to show its blossom (be-gagang), if in fact it can be called such, being nothing more than the germ of the future bunch of fruit, of a light straw colour, darkening to green as the fruit forms. These germs or blossoms are liable to fall untimely (gugur) in very dry weather, or to be shaken off in high winds (although from this accident the gardens are in general well sheltered by the surrounding woods), when, after the fairest promise, the crop fails.
The common way to grow pepper is by using cuttings, about a foot or two long, from the horizontal shoots that spread along the ground from the old vines (called lado sulur). You can plant one or two of these cuttings a few inches away from the young chinkareen at the same time if they’re the longer kind, or six months later if they’re the shorter kind, as mentioned earlier. Some people actually prefer to wait twelve months; in fertile soil, the growth of the vine can often overwhelm the support if it hasn’t gained enough strength first. In such soil, the vine can grow two to three feet in the first year and four to five feet in the second year. By the end of the second year or between the second and third year, it starts to show its blossom (be-gagang), though it’s really just the budding of the future fruit, appearing in a light straw color and turning green as the fruit develops. These buds or blossoms can fall off unexpectedly (gugur) during very dry weather or can get knocked off in strong winds (although the surrounding woods generally offer good protection for the gardens). This can lead to crop failure despite initial promise.
TURNING DOWN THE VINES.
Tending to the vines.
In the rainy weather that succeeds the first appearance of the fruit the whole vine is loosened from the chinkareen and turned down again into the earth, a hole being dug to receive it, in which it is laid circularly or coiled, leaving only the extremity above ground, at the foot of the chinkareen, which it now reascends with redoubled vigour, attaining in the following season the height of eight or ten feet, and bearing a full crop of fruit. There is said to be a great nicety in hitting the exact time proper for this operation of turning down; for if it be done too soon, the vines have been known not to bear till the third year, like fresh plants; and on the other hand the produce is ultimately retarded when they omit to turn them down until after the first fruit has been gathered; to which avarice of present, at the expense of future advantage, sometimes inclines the owners. It is not very material how many stems the vine may have in its first growth, but now one only, if strong, or two at the most, should be suffered to rise and cling to the prop: more would be superfluous and only weaken the whole. The supernumerary shoots however are usefully employed, being either conducted through narrow trenches to adjacent chinkareens whose vines have failed, or taken off at the root and transplanted to others more distant, where, coiled round and buried as the former, they rise with the same vigour, and the garden is completed of uniform growth, although many of its original vines have not succeeded. With these offsets or layers (called anggor and tettas) new gardens may be at once formed; the necessary chinkareens being previously planted, and of sufficient growth to receive them.
In the rainy weather that follows the first appearance of the fruit, the entire vine is loosened from the chinkareen and turned back into the ground. A hole is dug to hold it, and it’s laid out in a circular or coiled manner, leaving only the tip above ground, at the base of the chinkareen. The vine then grows back up with renewed vigor, reaching heights of eight or ten feet in the next season, and producing a full crop of fruit. It’s said that timing is crucial for this operation of turning the vine down; if done too early, the vines might not bear fruit until their third year, like new plants. Conversely, waiting too long to turn them down after the first harvest can delay production, as some owners are tempted by the immediate gain at the expense of future yield. It doesn’t really matter how many stems the vine has during its initial growth, but now only one strong stem, or at most two, should be allowed to climb and cling to the support; extra stems would be unnecessary and weaken the plant overall. However, the surplus shoots can be useful, either directed through narrow trenches to neighboring chinkareens where the vines have failed, or removed at the root and transplanted to other, more distant areas where, coiled and buried like the original, they grow back with the same vigor, resulting in a garden of uniform growth, even if many of the original vines haven't thrived. These offsets or layers (called anggor and tettas) can quickly form new gardens, provided the necessary chinkareens have been planted and are sufficiently grown to receive them.
This practice of turning down the vines, which appears singular but certainly contributes to the duration as well as strength of the plants, may yet amount to nothing more than a substitute for transplantation. Our people observing that vegetables often fail to thrive when permitted to grow up in the same beds where they were first set or sown, find it advantageous to remove them, at a certain period of their growth, to fresh situations. The Sumatrans observing the same failure have had recourse to an expedient nearly similar in its principle but effected in a different and perhaps more judicious mode.
This practice of bending the vines, which seems unusual but definitely helps the plants last longer and grow stronger, might just be a replacement for transplanting. Our people notice that vegetables often don't do well when they stay in the same plots where they were initially planted or sown, so they find it helpful to move them to new spots at a certain point in their growth. The people of Sumatra, seeing the same issue, have turned to a similar approach, but they've executed it in a different and possibly smarter way.
In order to lighten the labour of the cultivator, who has also the indispensable task of raising grain for himself and his family, it is a common practice, and not attended with any detriment to the gardens, to sow padi in the ground in which the chinkareens have been planted, and when this has become about six inches high, to plant the cuttings of the vines, suffering the shoots to creep along the ground until the crop has been taken off, when they are trained to the chinkareens, the shade of the corn being thought favourable to the young plants.
To make it easier for farmers, who also need to grow food for themselves and their families, it's common practice to plant paddy in the same soil where chinkareens have been planted. Once the paddy is about six inches tall, they plant the cuttings of the vines, allowing the shoots to spread along the ground until the crop is harvested. After that, they guide the vines to grow along the chinkareens since the shade from the corn is considered beneficial for the young plants.
PROGRESS OF BEARING.
Bearing Progress.
The vines, as has been observed, generally begin to bear in the course of the third year from the time of planting, but the produce is retarded for one or two seasons by the process just described; after which it increases annually for three years, when the garden (about the seventh or eighth year) is esteemed in its prime, or at its utmost produce; which state it maintains, according to the quality of the soil, from one to four years, when it gradually declines for about the same period until it is no longer worth the labour of keeping it in order. From some, in good ground, fruit has been gathered at the age of twenty years; but such instances are uncommon. On the first appearance of decline it should be renewed, as it is termed; but, to speak more properly, another garden should be planted to succeed it, which will begin to bear before the old one ceases.
The vines usually start to produce fruit about three years after planting, but their growth is slowed for one or two seasons due to the process mentioned earlier; after that, their yield increases each year for three years. By the seventh or eighth year, the garden is considered to be at its peak, or producing its maximum. This stage lasts, depending on soil quality, from one to four years, after which the yield gradually decreases over a similar period until it's no longer worth the effort to maintain. In good soil, fruit has been harvested from vines as old as twenty years, but that's rare. When they first show signs of decline, it's best to start a new garden to take their place, so the new vines can begin to produce before the old ones stop.
MODE OF PRUNING.
PRUNING METHOD.
The vine having acquired its full growth, and being limited by the height of the chinkareen, sometimes grows bushy and overhangs at top, which, being prejudicial to the lower parts, must be corrected by pruning or thinning the top branches, and this is done commonly by hand, as they break readily at every joint. Suckers too, or superfluous sideshoots (charang), which spring luxuriantly, are to be plucked away. The ground of the garden must be kept perfectly clear of weeds, shrubs, and whatever might injure or tend to choke the plants. During the hot months of June, July, and August the finer kinds of grass may be permitted to cover the ground, as it contributes to mitigate the effects of the sun's power, and preserves for a longer time the dews, which at that season fall copiously; but the rank species, called lalang, being particularly difficult to eradicate, should not be suffered to fix itself, if it can be avoided. As the vines increase in size and strength less attention to the ground is required, and especially as their shade tends to check the growth of weeds. In lopping the branches of the chinkareens preparatory to the rains, some dexterity is required that they may fall clear of the vine, and the business is performed with a sharp prang or bill that generally separates at one stroke the light pithy substance of the bough. For this purpose, as well as that of gathering the fruit, light triangular ladders made of bamboo are employed.
Once the vine has fully grown and is limited by the height of the chinkareen, it can sometimes become bushy and overhang at the top, which harms the lower parts and needs to be managed by pruning or thinning the top branches. This is usually done by hand, as they easily break at every joint. Suckers or excess side shoots (charang), which grow vigorously, should also be removed. The garden ground must be kept completely clear of weeds, shrubs, and anything that could harm or choke the plants. During the hot months of June, July, and August, finer types of grass may be allowed to cover the ground since they help reduce the sun's intensity and retain dew, which falls abundantly during that season; however, the invasive type called lalang, which is particularly hard to get rid of, should not be allowed to take hold if possible. As the vines grow larger and stronger, less attention is needed for the ground, especially since their shade helps control weed growth. When trimming the branches of the chinkareens before the rains, a certain skill is required to ensure they fall clear of the vine, and this is done with a sharp prang or bill that usually cuts through the light, pithy branches in one stroke. For this task, as well as for harvesting the fruit, lightweight triangular ladders made of bamboo are used.
TIME OF GATHERING.
Meeting Time.
As soon as any of the berries or corns redden, the bunch is reckoned fit for gathering, the remainder being then generally full-grown, although green; nor would it answer to wait for the whole to change colour, as the most mature would drop off.
As soon as any of the berries or grains turn red, the bunch is considered ready to pick, and the rest are usually fully grown, even if they’re still green; it wouldn't be wise to wait for all of them to change color, as the ripest ones would fall off.
MODE OF DRYING AND CLEANSING.
DRYING AND CLEANING METHOD.
It is collected in small baskets slung over the shoulder, and with the assistance of the women and children conveyed to a smooth level spot of clean hard ground near the garden or the village, where it is spread, sometimes upon mats, to dry in the sun, but exposed at the same time to the vicissitudes of the weather, which are not much regarded nor thought to injure it. In this situation it becomes black and shrivelled, as we see it in Europe, and as it dries is hand-rubbed occasionally to separate the grains from the stalk. It is then winnowed in large round shallow sieves called nyiru, and put in large vessels made of bark (kulitkayu) under their houses until the whole of the crop is gathered, or a sufficient quantity for carrying (usually by water) to the European factory or gadong at the mouth of the river. That which has been gathered at the properest stage of maturity will shrivel the least; but, if plucked too soon, it will in a short time, by removal from place to place, become mere dust. Of this defect trial may be made by the hand; but as light pepper may have been mixed with the sound it becomes necessary that the whole should be garbled at the scale by machines constructed for the purpose. Pepper that has fallen to the ground overripe and been gathered from thence will be known by being stripped of its outer coat, and in that state is an inferior kind of white pepper.
It’s collected in small baskets hung over the shoulder, and with help from the women and children, it's taken to a smooth, clean spot of hard ground near the garden or the village, where it's spread out, sometimes on mats, to dry in the sun. At the same time, it’s left exposed to the changing weather, which doesn’t seem to bother it or harm it much. In this way, it turns black and shriveled, just like we see in Europe, and while it dries, it’s occasionally hand-rubbed to separate the grains from the stalk. It’s then winnowed in large, shallow round sieves called nyiru and stored in large containers made of bark (kulitkayu) under their houses until the entire crop is gathered, or until there’s enough to transport (usually by water) to the European factory or gadong at the river's mouth. The pepper that’s picked at the right stage of ripeness will shrivel the least; however, if picked too early, it can quickly turn to dust from being moved around. You can test for this defect by hand, but since lighter pepper may have mixed in with the sound ones, it’s necessary to sort everything at the scale using machines designed for that purpose. Overripe pepper that has fallen to the ground and been collected will be recognized by its stripped outer coat, and in that state, it's considered an inferior type of white pepper.
WHITE PEPPER.
White Pepper.
This was for centuries supposed in Europe to be the produce of a different plant, and to possess qualities superior to those of the common black pepper; and accordingly it sold at a considerably higher price. But it has lost in some measure that advantage since it has been known that the secret depended merely upon the art of blanching the grains of the other sort, by depriving it of the exterior pellicle. For this purpose the ripest red grains are picked out and put in baskets to steep, either in running water (which is preferred), in pits dug for the occasion near the banks of rivers, or in stagnant pools. Sometimes it is only buried in the ground. In any of these situations it swells, and in the course of a week or ten days bursts its tegument, from which it is afterwards carefully separated by drying in the sun, rubbing between the hands, and winnowing. It has been much disputed, and is still undetermined, to which sort the preference ought to be given. The white pepper has this obvious recommendation, that it can be made of no other than the best and soundest grains, taken at their most perfect stage of maturity: but on the other hand it is argued that, by being suffered to remain the necessary time in water, its strength must be considerably diminished; and that the outer husk, which is lost by the process, has a peculiar flavour distinct from that of the heart, and though not so pungent, more aromatic. For the white pepper the planter receives the fourth part of a dollar, or fifteen pence, per bamboo or gallon measure, equal to about six pounds weight. At the sales in England the prices are at this time in the proportion of seventeen to ten or eleven, and the quantity imported has for some years been inconsiderable.
For centuries, people in Europe believed this came from a different plant and had qualities better than common black pepper, which is why it sold for a much higher price. However, it has lost some of that advantage since it became known that the secret involved just the process of bleaching the grains of the other type by removing the outer layer. The ripest red grains are selected and placed in baskets to soak, ideally in running water, in pits dug near riverbanks, or in still pools. Sometimes they are just buried in the ground. In any of these methods, the grains swell and, within a week or ten days, burst their outer layer, which is then carefully separated through sun drying, rubbing between hands, and winnowing. There's been much debate, and it's still unclear which type is better. The white pepper has the clear advantage that it can only be made from the best and ripest grains. On the flip side, it's argued that soaking it for the necessary time decreases its strength significantly, and the outer husk that is removed during processing has a unique flavor distinct from the inner seed, which, while not as spicy, is more aromatic. For white pepper, the farmer receives a quarter of a dollar, or fifteen pence, per bamboo or gallon measure, which equals about six pounds. Currently, in England, the prices are about seventeen to ten or eleven, and the amount imported has been quite small for the past few years.
APPEARANCE OF THE GARDENS.
GARDEN APPEARANCE.
The gardens being planted in even rows, running parallel, and at right angles with each other, their symmetrical appearance is very beautiful, and rendered more striking by the contrast they exhibit to the wild scenes of nature which surround them. In highly cultivated countries such as England, where landed property is all lined out and bounded and intersected with walls and hedges, we endeavour to give our gardens and pleasure-grounds the charm of variety and novelty by imitating the wildness of nature, in studied irregularities. Winding walks, hanging woods, craggy rocks, falls of water, are all looked upon as improvements; and the stately avenues, the canals, and rectangular lawns of our ancestors, which afforded the beauty of contrast in ruder times are now exploded. This difference of taste is not merely the effect of caprice, nor entirely of refinement, but results from the change of circumstances. A man who should attempt to exhibit in Sumatra the modern or irregular style of laying out grounds would attract but little attention, as the unimproved scenes adjoining on every side would probably eclipse his labours. Could he, on the contrary, produce, amidst its magnificent wilds, one of those antiquated parterres, with its canals and fountains, whose precision he has learned to despise, his work would create admiration and delight. A pepper-garden cultivated in England would not in point of external appearance be considered as an object of extraordinary beauty, and would be particularly found fault with for its uniformity; yet in Sumatra I never entered one, after travelling many miles, as is usually the case, through the woods, that I did not find myself affected with a strong sensation of pleasure. Perhaps the simple view of human industry, so scantily presented in that island, might contribute to this pleasure, by awakening those social feelings that nature has inspired us with, and which make our breasts glow on the perception of whatever indicates the prosperity and happiness of our fellow-creatures.
The gardens are planted in neat rows that run parallel and intersect at right angles, creating a beautifully symmetrical look that stands out against the wild beauty of nature surrounding them. In highly cultivated countries like England, where land is divided and marked by walls and hedges, we try to give our gardens and recreational areas a touch of variety and novelty by mimicking the wildness of nature through intentional irregularities. Winding paths, overhanging woods, rugged rocks, and waterfalls are all seen as enhancements, while the grand avenues, canals, and rectangular lawns of our ancestors—which once provided beautiful contrast in rougher times—are now out of style. This shift in taste isn't just a whim or purely a sign of refinement; it stems from changing circumstances. Someone trying to showcase the modern or irregular landscape design in Sumatra would likely receive little attention, as the untouched scenery nearby would probably overshadow their efforts. However, if they could create one of those old-fashioned formal gardens with canals and fountains, which they may now regard with disdain, it would surely attract admiration and joy amidst the stunning wilderness. An English pepper garden would not be considered particularly beautiful due to its uniformity, yet every time I entered one after traveling many miles through the woods in Sumatra, I felt a strong sense of pleasure. Perhaps the mere sight of human effort—so sparsely seen on that island—adds to this joy, stirring those social emotions that nature awakens in us and causing us to feel uplifted by anything that signifies the prosperity and happiness of our fellow beings.
SURVEYS.
Polls.
Once in every year a survey of all the pepper-plantations is taken by the Company's European servants resident at the various settlements, in the neighbourhood of which that article is cultivated. The number of vines in each particular garden is counted; accurate observation is made of its state and condition; orders are given where necessary for further care, for completion of stipulated quantity, renewals, changes of situation for better soil; and rewards and punishments are distributed to the planters as they appear, from the degree of their industry or remissness, deserving of either. Minutes of all these are entered in the survey-book, which, beside giving present information to the chief, and to the governor and council, to whom a copy is transmitted, serves as a guide and check for the survey of the succeeding year. An abstract of the form of the book is as follows. It is divided into sundry columns, containing the name of the village; the names of the planters; the number of chinkareens planted; the number of vines just planted; of young vines, not in a bearing state, three classes or years; of young vines in a bearing state, three classes; of vines in prime; of those on decline; of those that are old, but still productive; the total number; and lastly the quantity of pepper received during the year. A space is left for occasional remarks, and at the conclusion is subjoined a comparison of the totals of each column, for the whole district or residency, with those of the preceding year. This business the reader will perceive to be attended with considerable trouble, exclusive of the actual fatigue of the surveys, which from the nature of the country must necessarily be performed on foot, in a climate not very favourable to such excursions. The journeys in few places can be performed in less than a month, and often require a much longer time.
Once a year, the Company's European staff living in various settlements conduct a survey of all the pepper plantations in the area where this crop is grown. They count the number of vines in each garden, carefully assess their condition, and issue orders for additional care, for meeting the required quantity, for relocations to better soil, and they distribute rewards and penalties to the planters based on their hard work or negligence. All of this is recorded in the survey book, which not only provides current information to the chief and the governor and council—who receive a copy—but also serves as a reference for the following year's survey. The book is organized into several columns that include the village name, the names of the planters, the number of chinkareens planted, the number of newly planted vines, young vines not yet bearing fruit (divided into three classes or ages), young vines that are bearing fruit (also in three classes), vines in their prime, those in decline, those that are old but still productive, the total number of vines, and finally, the amount of pepper harvested during the year. There is space for additional comments, and at the end, a comparison of the totals for each column for the entire district with those from the previous year is included. This task, as you can see, involves considerable effort, not to mention the physical demands of the surveys, which must be done on foot due to the terrain, in a climate that isn't very conducive to long excursions. In many cases, the journeys can take at least a month, and often even longer.
The arrival of the Company's Resident at each dusun is considered as a period of festivity. The chief, together with the principal inhabitants, entertain him and his attendants with rustic hospitality, and when he retires to rest, his slumbers are soothed, or interrupted, by the songs of young females, who never fail to pay this compliment to the respected guest; and receive in return some trifling ornamental and useful presents (such as looking-glasses, fans, and needles) at his departure.
The arrival of the Company’s Resident at each village is seen as a time for celebration. The chief, along with the main residents, welcomes him and his entourage with warm hospitality. When he goes to bed, his sleep is either gently lulled or interrupted by the songs of young women, who consistently honor the esteemed guest with this gesture. In return, he gives them some small decorative and practical gifts (like mirrors, fans, and needles) when he leaves.
SUCCESSION OF GARDENS.
Garden succession.
The inhabitants, by the original contracts of the headmen with the Company, are obliged to plant a certain number of vines; each family one thousand, and each young unmarried man five hundred; and, in order to keep up the succession of produce, so soon as their gardens attain to their prime state, they are ordered to prepare others, that they may begin to bear as the old ones fall off; but as this can seldom be enforced till the decline becomes evident, and as young gardens are liable to various accidents which older ones are exempt from, the succession is rendered incomplete, and the consequence is that the annual produce of each district fluctuates, and is greater or less in the proportion of the quantity of bearing vines to the whole number. To enter minutely into the detail of this business will not afford much information or entertainment to the generality of readers, who will however be surprised to hear that pepper-planting, though scarcely an art, so little skill appears to be employed in its cultivation, has nevertheless been rendered an abstruse science by the investigations which able men have bestowed upon the subject. These took their rise from censures conveyed for supposed mismanagement, when the investment, or annual provision of pepper, decreased in comparison with preceding years, and which was not satisfactorily accounted for by unfavourable seasons. To obviate such charges it became necessary for those who superintended the business to pay attention to and explain the efficient causes which unavoidably occasioned this fluctuation, and to establish general principles of calculation by which to determine at any time the probable future produce of the different residencies. These will depend upon a knowledge of the medium produce of a determinate number of vines, and the medium number to which this produce is to be applied; both of which are to be ascertained only from a comprehensive view of the subject, and a nice discrimination. Nothing general can be determined from detached instances. It is not the produce of one particular plantation in one particular stage of bearing and in one particular season, but the mean produce of all the various classes of bearing vines collectively, drawn from the experience of several years, that can alone be depended on in calculations of this nature. So in regard to the median number of vines presumed to exist at any residency in a future year, to which the medium produce of a certain number, one thousand, for instance, is to be applied, the quantity of young vines of the first, second, and third year must not be indiscriminately advanced, in their whole extent, to the next annual stage, but a judicious allowance founded on experience must be made for the accidents to which, in spite of a resident's utmost care, they will be exposed. Some are lost by neglect or death of the owner; some are destroyed by inundations, others by elephants and wild buffaloes, and some by unfavourable seasons, and from these several considerations the number of vines will ever be found considerably decreased by the time they have arrived at a bearing state. Another important object of consideration in these matters is the comparative state of a residency at any particular period with what may be justly considered as its medium state. There must exist a determinate proportion between any number of bearing vines and such a number of young as are necessary to replace them when they go off and keep up a regular succession. This will depend in general upon the length of time before they reach a bearing state and during which they afterwards continue in it. If this certain proportion happens at any time to be disturbed the produce must become irregular. Thus, if at any period the number of bearing vines shall be found to exceed their just proportion to the total number, the produce at such period is to be considered as above the mean, and a subsequent decrease may with certainty be predicted, and vice versa. If then this proportion can be known, and the state of population in a residency ascertained, it becomes easy to determine the true medium number of bearing vines in that residency.
The residents, according to the original agreements made by the leaders with the Company, are required to plant a specific number of vines—each family has to plant one thousand, and each young unmarried man five hundred. To ensure a continuous supply, they must prepare new gardens as soon as their existing ones reach peak production, so that the new ones can start producing as the old ones decline. However, this is often difficult to enforce until the decline is noticeable, and young gardens face many potential issues that older ones do not, resulting in an inconsistent production. Consequently, the annual output of each area varies, fluctuating according to the number of productive vines compared to the total planted. Delving deeply into the details here might not be very enlightening or entertaining for most readers, but it’s interesting to note that pepper planting, which seems to require minimal skill, has been turned into a complex science through the studies of skilled individuals. This focus arose from criticisms regarding mismanagement when the annual pepper supply decreased compared to previous years, and the situation couldn’t be fully explained by bad weather. To address these criticisms, those overseeing the operations needed to understand and clarify the causes of this fluctuation and to establish general guidelines to predict the future output of different regions. This relies on knowing the average output of a specific number of vines and the expected number that this output would apply to, which can only be determined through a broad understanding of the situation and careful distinction. General conclusions cannot be drawn from isolated cases. It’s not just the output of one specific plantation at one certain stage and time, but rather the average output of all types of bearing vines collectively, based on experiences over several years, that can be relied upon for these calculations. Similarly, when estimating the average number of vines that will exist in a region in the future, it’s important not to simply assume all young vines from their first, second, and third years will progress to the next stage. Instead, a careful estimate based on past experiences must consider the risks they face, even with the best care. Some vines might be lost due to neglect or the owner's death, while others could be destroyed by flooding or eaten by elephants and wild buffaloes, or affected by poor weather. For these reasons, the number of vines is often significantly lower by the time they reach maturity. Another crucial factor to consider is the current condition of a region compared to its average state. There needs to be a specific ratio between the number of mature vines and the young ones necessary to replace them when they stop producing to maintain a consistent output. Typically, this depends on how long it takes for the young vines to mature and how long they continue producing after that. If this ratio gets disrupted at any time, the production will become erratic. For instance, if there are more mature vines than the ideal proportion relative to the total count, the output at that time will be above average, suggesting a future drop, and vice versa. Therefore, if this ratio is known and the population of a region is established, it becomes straightforward to determine the accurate average number of productive vines in that area.
There are, agreeably to the form of the survey book, eleven stages or classes of vines, each advanced one year. Of these classes six are bearing and five young. If therefore the gardens were not liable to accidents, but passed on from column to column undiminished, the true proportion of the bearing vines to the young would be as six to five, or to the total, as six to eleven. But the various contingencies above hinted at must tend to reduce this proportion; while, on the other hand, if any of the gardens should continue longer than is necessary to pass through all the stages on the survey-book, or should remain more than one year in a prime state, these circumstances would tend to increase the proportion. What then is the true medium proportion can only be determined from experience, and by comparing the state of a residency at various successive periods. In order to ascertain this point a very ingenious gentleman and able servant of the East India Company, Mr. John Crisp, to whom I am indebted for the most part of what I have laid before the reader on this part of the subject, drew out in the year 1777 a general comparative view of Manna residency, from the surveys of twelve years, annexing the produce of each year. From the statement it appeared that the proportion of the bearing vines to the whole number in that district was no more than 5.1 to 11, instead of 6 to 11, which would be the proportion if not reduced by accidents; and further that, when the whole produce of the twelve years was diffused over the whole number of bearing vines during that period, the produce of one thousand vines came out to be four hundred and fifty-three pounds, which must therefore be estimated as the medium produce of that residency. The same principle of calculation being applied to the other residencies, it appeared that the mean annual produce of one thousand vines, in all the various stages of bearing, taken collectively throughout the country, deduced from the experience of twelve years, was four hundred and four pounds. It likewise became evident from the statements drawn out by that gentleman that the medium annual produce of the Company's settlements on the west coast of Sumatra ought to be estimated at twelve hundred tons, of sixteen hundred weight; which is corroborated by an average of the actual receipts for any considerable number of years.
According to the format of the survey book, there are eleven stages or classes of vines, each progressing one year. Of these classes, six are bearing and five are young. If the gardens were not subject to accidents and moved from one column to the next without loss, the true ratio of bearing vines to young vines would be six to five, or overall, six to eleven. However, various unforeseen events mentioned earlier would likely reduce this ratio. On the flip side, if any of the gardens take longer than necessary to move through all the stages laid out in the survey book or remain in a prime state for more than a year, this would increase the ratio. The actual average ratio can only be figured out from experience by comparing the status of a residency at different successive times. To find out this information, a clever gentleman and skilled servant of the East India Company, Mr. John Crisp, who I owe much of the information I've shared on this topic, created a general comparative view of Manna residency in 1777, based on twelve years of surveys, attaching the yield for each year. The findings showed that the ratio of bearing vines to the total in that district was only 5.1 to 11, rather than 6 to 11, which would be expected without accidents. Moreover, when the total yield over the twelve years was averaged across all the bearing vines during that time, the yield from one thousand vines amounted to four hundred and fifty-three pounds, which should be considered the average yield for that residency. Applying the same calculation principle to other residencies revealed that the average annual yield of one thousand vines, across all stages of bearing throughout the country, based on twelve years of experience, was four hundred and four pounds. Additionally, data compiled by Mr. Crisp showed that the average annual yield of the Company's settlements on the west coast of Sumatra should be estimated at twelve hundred tons, with each ton being sixteen hundredweight, which aligns with actual receipts over several significant years.
Thus much will be sufficient to give the reader an idea of pepper-planting as a kind of science. How far in a commercial light this produce answers the Company's views in supporting the settlements, is foreign from my purpose to discuss, though it is a subject on which not a little might be said. It is the history of the island and its inhabitants, and not of the European interests, that I attempt to lay before the public.
This should give the reader a good sense of pepper planting as a sort of science. While it could be discussed how this crop aligns with the Company's goals for supporting the settlements, that's not my focus here, even though there's a lot that could be said about it. My aim is to present the history of the island and its people, rather than the interests of Europeans.
SPECIES OF PEPPER.
Types of Pepper.
The natives distinguish three species of pepper, which are called at different places by different names. At Laye, in the Rejang country, they term them lado kawur, lado manna, and lado jambi, from the parts where each sort is supposed to prevail, or from whence it was first brought to them. The lado kawur, or Lampong pepper, is the strongest plant, and bears the largest leaf and fruit; is slower in coming to perfection than the second, but of much longer duration. The leaf and fruit of the lado manna are somewhat smaller, and it has this peculiarity, that it bears soon and in large quantities, but seldom passes the third or fourth year's crop. The jambi, which has deservedly fallen into disrepute, is of the smallest leaf and fruit, very short-lived, and not without difficulty trained to the chinkareen. In some places to the southward they distinguish two kinds only, lado sudul and lado jambi. Lado sulur and lado anggor are not distinctions of species; the former denoting the cuttings of young creeping shoots commonly planted, in opposition to the latter, which is the term for planting by layers.
The locals recognize three types of pepper, each known by different names in various places. In Laye, located in the Rejang region, they call them lado kawur, lado manna, and lado jambi, based on where each variety is believed to thrive or where it was initially brought from. The lado kawur, or Lampong pepper, is the strongest plant, has the largest leaves and fruit, and takes longer to mature than the second type, but lasts much longer. The leaves and fruit of the lado manna are somewhat smaller, and it has the unique trait of producing quickly and in large amounts, but typically doesn't yield much beyond the third or fourth year. The jambi, which has rightfully lost popularity, has the smallest leaves and fruit, is very short-lived, and is challenging to cultivate for the chinkareen. In some southern areas, they only recognize two types: lado sudul and lado jambi. Lado sulur and lado anggor are not different species; the former refers to cuttings from young creeping shoots that are commonly planted, while the latter refers to planting by layering.
SEASONS.
SEASONS.
The season of the pepper-vines bearing, as well as that of most other fruit-trees on Sumatra, is subject to great irregularities, owing perhaps to the uncertainty of the monsoons, which are not there so strictly periodical as on the western side of India. Generally speaking however the pepper produces two crops in the year; one called the greater crop (pupul agung) between the months of October and March; the other called the lesser or half crop (buah sello) between the months of April and September, which is small in proportion as the former has been considerable, and vice versa. Sometimes in particular districts they will be employed in gathering it in small quantities during the whole year round, whilst perhaps in others the produce of that year is confined to one crop; for, although the regular period between the appearance of the blossom and maturity is about four months, the whole does not ripen at once, and blossoms are frequently found on the same vine with green and ripe fruit. In Laye residency the principal harvest of pepper in the year 1766 was gathered between the months of February and May; in 1767 and 1768 about September and October; in 1778 between June and August; and for the four succeeding years was seldom received earlier than November and December. Long-continued droughts, which sometimes happen, stop the vegetation of the vines and retard the produce. This was particularly experienced in the year 1775, when, for a period of about eight months, scarcely a shower of rain fell to moisten the earth. The vines were deprived of their foliage, many gardens perished and a general destruction was expected. But this apparent calamity was attended with a consequence not foreseen, though analogous to the usual operations of nature in that climate. The natives, when they would force a tree that is backward to produce fruit, strip it of its leaves, by which means the nutritive juices are reserved for that more important use, and the blossoms soon begin to show themselves in abundance. A similar effect was displayed in the pepper gardens by the inclemency of the season. The vines, as soon as the rains began to descend, threw out blossoms in a profusion unknown before; old gardens which had been unprolific for two or three years began to bear; and accordingly the crop of 1776/1777 considerably surpassed that of many preceding years.
The season for pepper vines, like that of most other fruit trees in Sumatra, is quite unpredictable, likely due to the unreliable monsoons, which aren't as regular there as on the western side of India. Generally, though, pepper produces two crops a year: one, called the greater crop (pupul agung), between October and March; and the other, known as the lesser or half crop (buah sello), from April to September. The amount of the lesser crop is smaller in relation to how big the greater crop was, and vice versa. In some areas, people might gather pepper in small amounts throughout the entire year, while in others, production may be limited to just one crop for that year. Although the usual time from blossom to maturity is around four months, not everything ripens at the same time, and it’s common to see blossoms alongside green and ripe fruit on the same vine. In Laye residency, the main pepper harvest of 1766 was collected between February and May; in 1767 and 1768, it was around September and October; in 1778, it was from June to August; and in the following four years, it rarely came in before November and December. Prolonged droughts occasionally occur, which halt the vines' growth and delay production. This was especially true in 1775, when for about eight months, hardly any rain fell to moisten the soil. The vines lost their leaves, many gardens withered away, and widespread destruction seemed imminent. However, this apparent disaster led to an unexpected result, similar to natural processes in that climate. When locals try to encourage a slow-producing tree to bear fruit, they strip it of its leaves, conserving essential nutrients for that purpose, leading to a burst of blossoms shortly afterward. A similar outcome occurred in the pepper gardens due to the harsh weather. Once the rains began, the vines bloomed more abundantly than ever before; gardens that hadn’t produced for two or three years started to bear fruit, resulting in the crop of 1776/1777 significantly exceeding many previous years.
TRANSPORTATION OF PEPPER.
Shipping Pepper.
The pepper is mostly brought down from the country on rafts (rakit), which are sometimes composed of rough timbers, but usually of large bamboos, with a platform of split bamboos to keep the cargo dry. They are steered at both head and stern, in the more rapid rivers with a kind of rudder, or scull rather, having a broad blade fixed in a fork or crutch. Those who steer are obliged to exert the whole strength of the body in those places especially where the fall of water is steep, and the course winding; but the purchase of the scull is of so great power that they can move the raft bodily across the river when both ends are acted upon at the same time. But, notwithstanding their great dexterity and their judgment in choosing the channel, they are liable to meet with obstruction in large trees and rocks, which, from the violence of the stream, occasion their rafts to be overset, and sometimes dashed to pieces.
The pepper is mostly transported from the countryside on rafts, which are sometimes made of rough timber but usually consist of large bamboo poles, with a platform of split bamboo to keep the cargo dry. They are steered from both the front and the back, and on faster rivers, they use a type of rudder, or paddle, with a broad blade fixed in a fork or crutch. The steerspeople have to put in a lot of effort, especially in areas where there are steep drops in the water and winding paths. However, the leverage from the paddle is so powerful that they can move the entire raft across the river when both ends are being maneuvered at the same time. Despite their skill and good judgment in selecting a course, they can still face obstacles like large trees and rocks, which, due to the force of the current, can tip their rafts over or sometimes even break them apart.
It is a generally received opinion that pepper does not sustain any damage by an immersion in seawater; a circumstance that attends perhaps a fourth part of the whole quantity shipped from the coast. The surf, through which it is carried in an open boat, called a sampan lonchore, renders such accidents unavoidable. This boat, which carries one or two tons, being hauled up on the beach and there loaded, is shoved off, with a few people in it, by a number collected for that purpose, who watch the opportunity of a lull or temporary intermission of the swell. A tambangan, or long narrow vessel, built to contain from ten to twenty tons, (peculiar to the southern part of the coast), lies at anchor without to receive the cargoes from the sampans. At many places, where the kwallas, or mouths of the rivers, are tolerably practicable, the pepper is sent out at once in the tambangans over the bar; but this, owing to the common shallowness of the water and violence of the surfs, is attended with considerable risk. Thus the pepper is conveyed either to the warehouses at the head-settlement or to the ship from Europe lying there to receive it. About one-third part of the quantity of black pepper collected, but none of the white, is annually sent to China. Of the extent and circumstances of the trade in pepper carried on by private merchants (chiefly American) at the northern ports of Nalabu, Susu, and Mukki, where it is managed by the subjects of Achin, I have not any accurate information, and only know that it has increased considerably during the last twelve years.
It's widely believed that pepper doesn't get damaged when it's soaked in seawater; this happens to about a quarter of the total amount shipped from the coast. The waves, through which it's transported in an open boat called a sampan lonchore, make such incidents unavoidable. This boat, which carries one or two tons, is pulled up on the beach, loaded there, and then pushed off with a few people on it by a group gathered for that purpose, who wait for a break in the waves. A tambangan, or long narrow vessel designed to hold ten to twenty tons, which is specific to the southern part of the coast, waits at anchor to take on the cargo from the sampans. In many places where the kwallas, or river mouths, are reasonably navigable, the pepper is sent out immediately in the tambangans over the bar; however, due to the usual shallow waters and rough waves, this carries significant risk. Thus, the pepper is transported either to the warehouses at the main settlement or to the European ships there to collect it. About one-third of the black pepper collected, but none of the white, is shipped to China each year. I don’t have detailed information about the scale and details of the pepper trade conducted by private merchants (mainly American) at the northern ports of Nalabu, Susu, and Mukki, where it’s managed by the subjects of Achin, but I do know it’s grown significantly over the last twelve years.
NUTMEGS AND CLOVES.
Nutmeg and cloves.
It is well known with what jealousy and rigour the Batavian government has guarded against the transplantation of the trees producing nutmegs and cloves from the islands of Banda and Amboina to other parts of India. To elude its vigilance many attempts have been made by the English, who considered Sumatra to be well adapted, from its local circumstances, to the cultivation of these valuable spices; but all proved ineffectual, until the reduction of the eastern settlements in 1796 afforded the wished for opportunity, which was eagerly seized by Mr. Robert Broff, at that period chief of the Residency of Fort Marlborough. As the culture is now likely to become of importance to the trade of this country, and the history of its introduction may hereafter be thought interesting, I shall give it in Mr. Broff's own words:
It’s well known how jealously and strictly the Batavian government has protected the trees that produce nutmeg and cloves from being moved from the islands of Banda and Amboina to other parts of India. To get around their watchfulness, many attempts were made by the English, who thought Sumatra was well-suited, due to its local conditions, for growing these valuable spices; however, all these efforts were unsuccessful, until the takeover of the eastern settlements in 1796 provided the long-awaited opportunity, which Mr. Robert Broff, then chief of the Residency of Fort Marlborough, eagerly took. Since the cultivation of these spices is likely to become important to the trade of this country, and the story of how they were introduced may be interesting in the future, I’ll share it in Mr. Broff's own words:
The acquisition of the nutmeg and clove plants became an object of my solicitude the moment I received by Captain Newcombe, of his Majesty's ship Orpheus, the news of the surrender of the islands where they are produced; being convinced, from the information I had received, that the country in the neighbourhood of Bencoolen, situated as it is in the same latitude with the Moluccas, exposed to the same periodical winds, and possessing the same kind of soil, would prove congenial to their culture. Under this impression I suggested to the other members of the Board the expediency of freighting a vessel for the twofold purpose of sending supplies to the forces at Amboina, for which they were in distress, and of bringing in return as many spice-plants as could be conveniently stowed. The proposition was acceded to, and a vessel, of which I was the principal owner (no other could be obtained), was accordingly dispatched in July 1806; but the plan was unfortunately frustrated by the imprudent conduct of a person on the civil establishment to whom the execution was entrusted. Soon afterwards however I had the good fortune to be more successful, in an application I made to Captain Hugh Moore, who commanded the Phoenix country ship, to undertake the importation, stipulating with him to pay a certain sum for every healthy plant he should deliver.
The acquisition of nutmeg and clove plants became a priority for me once I received news from Captain Newcombe of His Majesty's ship Orpheus about the islands where they are grown surrendering. I was convinced, based on the information I had, that the area near Bencoolen, which shares the same latitude as the Moluccas, is subject to the same seasonal winds, and has the same type of soil, would be suitable for growing them. With this in mind, I suggested to the other Board members that we should rent a ship to both send supplies to the forces in Amboina, who were in need, and to bring back as many spice plants as could fit. The proposal was accepted, and a vessel, of which I was the main owner (no other was available), was sent out in July 1806; however, the plan was unfortunately disrupted by the careless actions of someone in the civil administration who was in charge of carrying it out. Shortly after, I was fortunate to have better luck with an application I made to Captain Hugh Moore, who was in charge of the Phoenix country ship, to handle the importation, agreeing to pay him a specific amount for every healthy plant he delivered.
FIRST INTRODUCTION.
FIRST INTRODUCTION.
Complete success attended the measure: he returned in July 1798, and I had the satisfaction of planting myself, and distributing for that purpose, a number of young nutmeg and a few clove trees in the districts of Bencoolen and Silebar, and other more distant spots, in order to ascertain from experience the situations best adapted to their growth. I particularly delivered to Mr. Charles Campbell, botanist, a portion to be under his own immediate inspection; and another to Mr. Edward Coles, this gentleman having in his service a family who were natives of a spice island and had been used to the cultivation. When I quitted the coast in January 1799 I had the gratification of witnessing the prosperous state of the plantations, and of receiving information from the quarters where they had been distributed of their thriving luxuriantly; and since my arrival in England various letters have reached me to the same effect. To the merit therefore of introducing this important article, and of forming regulations for its successful culture, I put in my exclusive claim; and am fully persuaded that if a liberal policy is adopted it will become of the greatest commercial advantage to the Company and to the nation.
The initiative was a complete success: he returned in July 1798, and I was pleased to plant and distribute several young nutmeg and a few clove trees in the areas of Bencoolen and Silebar, along with some other more remote locations, to find out which settings were best for their growth. I specifically gave a portion to Mr. Charles Campbell, a botanist, for him to oversee directly; and another portion to Mr. Edward Coles, as he had a family working for him who were natives of a spice island and were familiar with cultivation. When I left the coast in January 1799, I was gratified to see the plantations thriving and to receive reports from the areas where they had been planted that they were doing well; since arriving in England, I have received various letters confirming this. Therefore, I claim full credit for introducing this important commodity and for establishing regulations for its effective cultivation, and I am confident that if a generous policy is pursued, it will bring great commercial benefits to both the Company and the nation.
Further light will be thrown upon this subject and the progress of the cultivation by the following extract of a letter to me from Mr. Campbell, dated in November 1803:
Further insight will be provided on this topic and the advancement of the cultivation by the following excerpt from a letter to me from Mr. Campbell, dated November 1803:
Early in the year 1798 Mr. Broff, to whom the highest praise is due for his enterprising and considerative scheme of procuring the spice trees from our newly-conquered islands (after experiencing much disappointment and want of support) overcame every obstacle, and we received, through the agency of Mr. Jones, commercial resident at Amboina, five or six hundred nutmeg plants, with about fifty cloves; but these latter were not in a vigorous state. They were distributed and put generally under my inspection. Their culture was attended with various success, but Mr. Coles, from the situation of his farm, near Silebar River but not too close to the seashore, and from, I believe, bestowing more personal attention than any of us, has outstripped his competitors. Some trees which I planted as far inland as the Sugar-loaf Mountain blossomed with his, but the fruit was first perfected in his ground. The plants were dispatched from Amboina in March 1798, just bursting from the shell, and two months ago I plucked the perfect fruit, specimens of which I now send you; being a period of five years and nine months only; whereas in their native land eight years at least are commonly allowed. Having early remarked the great promise of the trees I tried by every means in my power to interest the Bengal government in our views, and at length, by the assistance of Dr. Roxburgh, I succeeded.
Early in 1798, Mr. Broff, who deserves high praise for his ambitious and thoughtful plan to obtain spice trees from our newly-conquered islands (after facing much disappointment and lack of support), overcame every challenge. We received, through Mr. Jones, the commercial resident at Amboina, five or six hundred nutmeg plants, along with about fifty cloves, although the latter were not very healthy. These were distributed and generally placed under my supervision. Their cultivation had varying levels of success, but Mr. Coles, due to the location of his farm near the Silebar River—without being too close to the coastline—and, I believe, because he devoted more personal attention than the rest of us, has outperformed his rivals. Some of the trees I planted as far inland as Sugar-loaf Mountain bloomed alongside his, but the fruit ripened first on his land. The plants were sent from Amboina in March 1798, just coming out of their shells, and two months ago I harvested the ripe fruit, examples of which I am now sending you; this took only five years and nine months, while in their native land, they usually require at least eight years. Having noticed the great potential of the trees early on, I made every effort to engage the Bengal government in our plans, and eventually, with the help of Dr. Roxburgh, I succeeded.
SECOND IMPORTATION OF PLANTS.
Second shipment of plants.
A few months ago his son arrived here from Amboina, with twenty-two thousand nutmeg plants, and upwards of six thousand cloves, which are already in my nurseries, and flourishing like those which preceded them. About the time the nutmegs fruited one clove tree flowered. Only three of the original importation had survived their transit and the accidents attending their planting out. Its buds are now filling, and I hope to transmit specimens of them also. The Malay chiefs have eagerly engaged in the cultivation of their respective shares. I have retained eight thousand nutmegs as a plantation from which the fruit may hereafter be disseminated. Every kind of soil and every variety of situation has been tried. The cloves are not yet widely dispersed, for, being a tender plant, I choose to have them under my own eye.
A few months ago, his son arrived here from Amboina with twenty-two thousand nutmeg plants and over six thousand cloves, which are already in my nurseries and thriving like those that came before them. Around the time the nutmegs started to bear fruit, one clove tree blossomed. Only three of the original imports survived the journey and the challenges during planting. Its buds are now developing, and I hope to send some specimens of them too. The Malay chiefs have enthusiastically taken part in growing their respective shares. I have kept eight thousand nutmegs for a plantation to spread the fruit in the future. Every type of soil and various locations have been tested. The cloves aren’t widely spread yet because, being a delicate plant, I prefer to keep them under my direct care.
Since the death of Mr. Campbell Mr. Roxburgh has been appointed to the superintendence, and the latest accounts from thence justify the sanguine expectations formed of the ultimate importance of the trade; there being at that period upwards of twenty thousand nutmeg trees in full bearing, capable of yielding annually two hundred thousand pounds weight of nutmegs, and fifty thousand pounds of mace. The clove plants have proved more delicate, but the quality of their spice equal to any produced in the Moluccas.
Since Mr. Campbell's passing, Mr. Roxburgh has been appointed to oversee things, and the latest reports from there confirm the optimistic hopes regarding the trade's potential significance. At that time, there were over twenty thousand nutmeg trees in full production, which could yield two hundred thousand pounds of nutmegs and fifty thousand pounds of mace each year. The clove plants have been more fragile, but their spice quality is on par with the best from the Moluccas.
CULTURE LEFT TO INDIVIDUALS.
Cultural identity for individuals.
It is understood that the Company has declined the monopoly of the trade and left the cultivation to individual exertion; directing however that its own immediate plantations be kept up by the labour of convicts from Bengal, and reserving to itself an export duty of ten per cent on the value of the spices.
It is understood that the Company has given up the monopoly on trade and has allowed individuals to handle cultivation; however, it mandates that its own plantations be maintained by convict labor from Bengal, and it retains an export duty of ten percent on the value of the spices.
CAMPHOR.
Cinnamon leaf.
Among the valuable productions of the island as articles of commerce a conspicuous place belongs to the camphor.
Among the valuable products of the island that are used for trade, camphor holds a prominent position.
This peculiar substance, called by the natives kapur-barus,* and distinguished by the epithet of native camphor from another sort which shall be mentioned hereafter, is a drug for which Sumatra and Borneo have been celebrated from the earliest times, and with the virtues of which the Arabian physicians appear to have been acquainted. Chemists formerly entertained opinions extremely discordant in regard to the nature and the properties of camphor; and even at this day they seem to be but imperfectly known. It is considered however as a sedative and powerful diaphoretic: but my province is to mention such particulars of its history as have come within my knowledge, leaving to others to investigate its most beneficial uses.
This unusual substance, known to the locals as kapur-barus,* and referred to as native camphor to distinguish it from another type that will be discussed later, is a drug for which Sumatra and Borneo have been famous since ancient times. The Arab physicians seem to have been aware of its benefits. Chemists in the past had very different views about the nature and properties of camphor, and even today, their understanding seems limited. It is generally regarded as a sedative and a strong diaphoretic. However, my role is to share the details of its history that I’ve come across, leaving it to others to explore its most beneficial uses.
(*Footnote. The word kapur appears to be derived from the Sanskrit karpura, and the Arabic and Persian kafur (from whence our camphor) to have been adopted from the language of the country where the article is produced. Barus is the name of a place in Sumatra.)
(*Footnote. The word kapur seems to come from the Sanskrit karpura, and the Arabic and Persian kafur (which is where we get our camphor) as adopted from the language of the region where the product is sourced. Barus is the name of a location in Sumatra.)
PLACE OF GROWTH.
Growth Area.
The tree is a native of the northern parts of the island only, not being found to the southward of the line, nor yet beyond the third degree of north latitude. It grows without cultivation in the woods lying near to the sea-coast, and is equal in height and bulk to the largest timber trees, being frequently found upwards of fifteen feet in circumference.
The tree is found only in the northern parts of the island, not to the south of the line and not beyond the third degree of north latitude. It grows wild in the forests near the coastline and is as tall and thick as the largest timber trees, often measuring over fifteen feet in circumference.
WOOD.
Wood.
For carpenters' purposes the wood is in much esteem, being easy to work, light, durable, and not liable to be injured by insects, particularly by the kumbang, a species of the bee, whose destructive perforations have been already mentioned; but is also said to be more affected than most others by the changes of the atmosphere. The leaf is small, of a roundish oval, the fibres running straight and parallel to each other, and terminates in a remarkably long and slender point. The flower has not yet been brought to England. The fruit is described by C.F. Gaertner (De Seminibus Volume 3 page 49 tab. 186) by the name of Dryobalanops aromatica, from specimens in the collection of Sir Joseph Banks; but he has unaccountably mistaken it for the cinnamon tree, and spoken of it as a native of Ceylon. It is also described, from the same specimens, by M. Correa de Serra (Annales du Museum d'Histoire Naturelle Tome 10 page 159 plate 8) by the name of Pterigium teres; without any reference whatever to the nature of the tree as yielding this valuable drug. A beautiful engraving of its very peculiar foliage has been made under the direction of Mr. A.B. Lambert.
For carpenters, this wood is highly valued because it is easy to work with, lightweight, durable, and resistant to insect damage, especially from the kumbang, a type of beetle known for its destructive tunneling, as previously noted. However, it is said to be more sensitive to changes in the atmosphere than many other types. The leaf is small and oval-shaped, with fibers that run straight and parallel, ending in a notably long and slender point. The flower has not yet been introduced to England. The fruit is referred to by C.F. Gaertner (De Seminibus Volume 3 page 49 tab. 186) as Dryobalanops aromatica, based on specimens from Sir Joseph Banks’ collection, but he mistakenly identified it as the cinnamon tree and claimed it was native to Ceylon. M. Correa de Serra also described it from the same specimens (Annales du Museum d'Histoire Naturelle Tome 10 page 159 plate 8) as Pterigium teres, without mentioning the tree’s significance in producing this valuable substance. A beautiful engraving of its distinctive leaves was created under the guidance of Mr. A.B. Lambert.
CAMPHOR FOUND IN THE FISSURES.
Camphor found in the cracks.
The camphor is found in the concrete state in which we see it, in natural fissures or crevices of the wood, but does not exhibit any exterior appearance by which its existence can be previously ascertained, and the persons whose employment it is to collect it usually cut down a number of trees, almost at random, before they find one that contains a sufficient quantity to repay their labour, although always assisted in their research by a professional conjurer, whose skill must be chiefly employed in concealing or accounting for his own mistakes. It is said that not a tenth part of the number felled is productive either of camphor or of camphor-oil (meniak kapur), although the latter is less rare; and that parties of men are sometimes engaged for two or three months together in the forests, with very precarious success. This scarcity tends to enhance the price. The tree when cut down is divided transversely into several blocks, and these again are split with wedges into small pieces, from the interstices of which the camphor, if any there be, is extracted. That which comes away readily in large flakes, almost transparent, is esteemed the prime sort or head; the smaller, clean pieces are considered as belly, and the minute particles, chiefly scraped from the wood, and often mixed with it, are called foot; according to the customary terms adopted in the assortment of drugs. The mode of separating it from these and other impurities is by steeping and washing it in water, and sometimes with the aid of soap. It is then passed through sieves or screens of different apertures in order to make the assortment, so far as that depends upon the size of the grains; but much of the selection is also made by hand, and particular care is taken to distinguish from the more genuine kinds that which is produced by an artificial concretion of the essential oil.
Camphor is found in its solid state in the natural cracks or crevices of the wood, but it doesn't show any exterior signs that reveal its presence beforehand. People whose job it is to collect it often chop down several trees, almost randomly, before they find one with enough camphor to make their efforts worthwhile. They usually get help from a professional conjurer whose skills are mainly used to cover up or explain his own mistakes. It’s said that less than a tenth of the trees cut down yield either camphor or camphor oil (meniak kapur), although camphor oil is somewhat more common. Teams of workers sometimes spend two or three months in the forests with very uncertain results. This scarcity tends to drive up the price. When a tree is felled, it's cut into several sections and then split with wedges into smaller pieces. From the gaps in these pieces, camphor, if present, is extracted. The large, almost transparent flakes that come off easily are considered the prime quality, or "head"; the smaller, cleaner pieces are referred to as "belly," and the tiny particles, often scraped from the wood and mixed in, are called "foot," based on the traditional terms used in the classification of drugs. To separate it from other impurities, camphor is soaked and washed in water, sometimes using soap as well. It’s then sifted through screens with various sizes of holes to sort it by grain size. However, a lot of the sorting is also done by hand, and special care is taken to differentiate the genuine types from those produced by artificial crystallization of the essential oil.
CAMPHOR OIL.
Camphor oil.
The inquiries I formerly made on the subject (not having been myself in the district where the tree grows) led me to believe with confidence that the oil and the dry crystallized resin were not procured from the same individual tree; but in this I was first undeceived by Mr. R. Maidman, who in June 1788 wrote to me from Tappanuli, where he was resident, to the following effect:
The questions I used to ask about this topic (since I haven't been in the area where the tree grows) made me confidently believe that the oil and the dried crystallized resin didn’t come from the same tree. However, I was initially set straight by Mr. R. Maidman, who wrote to me in June 1788 from Tappanuli, where he lived, saying the following:
I beg your acceptance of a piece of camphor-wood, the genuine quality of which I can answer for, being cut by one of my own people, who was employed in making charcoal, of which the best for smiths' work is made from this wood. On cutting deep into a pretty large tree the fine oil suddenly gushed out and was lost for want of a receiver. He felled the tree, and, having split it, brought me three or four catties (four or five pounds) of the finest camphor I ever saw, and also this log, which is very rich. My reason for being thus particular is that the country people have a method of pouring oil of inferior camphor-trees into a log of wood that has natural cracks, and, by exposing this to the sun every day for a week, it appears like genuine camphor; but is the worst sort.
I kindly ask you to accept this piece of camphor wood, which I can guarantee is genuine because it was cut by one of my people who was making charcoal, the best of which comes from this wood. When he cut into a fairly large tree, the fine oil suddenly flowed out and was lost because there was no container to catch it. He felled the tree, and after splitting it, he brought me three or four catties (four or five pounds) of the finest camphor I've ever seen, along with this log, which is very rich. The reason I’m being so specific is that the locals have a trick where they pour oil from inferior camphor trees into a log with natural cracks and leave it in the sun every day for a week, making it look like genuine camphor, but it’s actually the worst quality.
This coexistence of the two products has been since confirmed to me by others, and is particularly stated by Mr. Macdonald in his ingenious paper on certain Natural Productions of Sumatra, published in the Asiatic Researches Volume 4 Calcutta 1795. It seems probable on the whole that, as the tree advances in age, a greater proportion of this essential oil takes a concrete form, and it has been observed to me that, when the fresh oil has been allowed to stand and settle, a sediment of camphor is procured; but the subject requires further examination by well-informed persons on the spot.
The coexistence of the two products has been confirmed to me by others, especially noted by Mr. Macdonald in his insightful paper about certain natural products from Sumatra, published in the Asiatic Researches Volume 4, Calcutta 1795. It seems likely that as the tree gets older, a larger amount of this essential oil solidifies, and I’ve been told that when the fresh oil is left to stand and settle, a sediment of camphor forms; however, this topic needs more investigation by knowledgeable individuals on site.
PRICE.
COST.
Head camphor is usually purchased from those who procure it at the rate of six Spanish dollars the pound, or eight dollars the catty, and sells in the China market at Canton for nine to twelve dollars the pound, or twelve to fifteen hundred dollars the pekul of a hundred catties or one hundred thirty-three pounds and a third, avoirdupois. When of superior quality it sells for two thousand dollars, and I have been assured that some small choice samples have produced upwards of thirty dollars per catty.* It is estimated that the whole quantity annually brought down for sale on the western side of the island does not exceed fifty pekul. The trade is chiefly in the hands of the Achinese settled at Sinkell, who buy the article from the Batta people and dispose of it to the Europeans and Chinese settlers.
Head camphor is typically bought from suppliers at six Spanish dollars per pound or eight dollars per catty, and it sells in the China market in Canton for nine to twelve dollars per pound, or twelve to fifteen hundred dollars per pekul, which is a hundred catties or about one hundred thirty-three pounds and a third, avoirdupois. When it’s of high quality, it can be sold for two thousand dollars, and I’ve been told that some premium samples have sold for over thirty dollars per catty.* It’s estimated that the total amount brought down for sale on the western side of the island each year doesn’t exceed fifty pekul. The trade is mainly controlled by the Achinese living in Sinkell, who purchase it from the Batta people and sell it to European and Chinese settlers.
(*Footnote. See Price Currents of the China trade. Camphor was purchased in Sumatra by Commodore Beaulieu in 1622 at the rate of fifteen Spanish dollars for twenty-eight ounces, which differs but little from the modern price. In the Transactions of the Society at Batavia it appears that the camphor of Borneo sells in their market for 3200 rix dollars, and that of Japan for 50 rix dollars the pekul.)
(*Footnote. See Price Currents of the China trade. Camphor was bought in Sumatra by Commodore Beaulieu in 1622 for fifteen Spanish dollars per twenty-eight ounces, which is quite similar to today's price. According to the Transactions of the Society at Batavia, Borneo camphor sells in their market for 3200 rix dollars, while Japan camphor goes for 50 rix dollars per pekul.)
JAPAN CAMPHOR.
Japan Camphor.
It has been commonly supposed that the people of China or Japan prepare a factitious substance resembling native camphor, and impregnated with its virtues by the admixture of a small quantity of the genuine, which is sold to the Dutch factory for thirty or forty dollars the pekul, sent to Holland, and afterwards refined to the state in which we see it in our shops, where it is sold at eight to twelve shillings the pound. It appears however an extraordinary circumstance that any article could possibly be so adulterated, bearing at the same time the likeness and retaining the sensible qualities of its original, as that the dealers should be enabled, with profit to themselves to resell it for the fiftieth part of the price they gave. But, upon inquiry of an ingenious person long resident in China, I learned that the Japan camphor is by no means a factitious substance, but the genuine produce of a tree growing in abundance in the latter country, different in every character from that of Sumatra or Borneo, and well known to our botanists by the name of Laurus camphora, L. He further informed me that the Chinese never mix the Sumatran camphor with that from Japan, but purchase the former for their own use, at the before-mentioned extravagant price, from an idea of its efficacy, probably superstitious, and export the latter as a drug not held in any particular estimation. Thus we buy the leaves of their tea-plant at a high rate and neglect herbs, the natives of our own soil, possessing perhaps equal virtues. It is known also that the Japan camphor, termed factitious, will evaporate till it wholly disappears, and at all stages of its diminution retain its full proportion of strength; which does not seem the property of an adulterated or compounded body. Kaempfer informs us that it is prepared from a decoction of the wood and roots of the tree cut into small pieces; and the form of the lumps in which it is brought to us shows that it has undergone a process. The Sumatran sort, though doubtless from its extreme volatility it must be subject to decrease, does not lose any very sensible quantity from being kept, as I find from the experience of many years that it has been in my possession. It probably may not be very easy to ascertain its superiority over the other in the materia medica, not being brought for sale to this country, nor generally administered; but from a medical person who practised at Bencoolen I learned that the usual dose he gave was from half a grain to one or two grains at the most. The oil, although hitherto of little importance as an article of commerce, is a valuable domestic medicine, and much used by the natives as well as Europeans in cases of strains, swellings, and rheumatic pains; its particles, from their extreme subtlety, readily entering the pores. It undergoes no preparation, and is used in the state in which, upon incision, it has distilled from the tree. The kayu putih (Melaleuca leucadendron) oil, which is somewhat better known in England, is obtained in the same manner; but to procure the meniak kayu or common wood-oil, used for preserving timber or boards exposed to the weather, from decay, and for boiling with dammar to pay the bottoms of ships and boats, the following method is practised. They make a transverse incision into the tree to the depth of some inches, and then cut sloping down from the notch, till they leave a flat superficies. This they hollow out to a capacity to receive about a quart. They then put into the hollow a bit of lighted reed, and let it remain for about ten minutes, which, acting as a stimulus, draws the fluid to that part. In the space of a night the liquor fills the receptacle prepared for it, and the tree continues to yield a lesser quantity for three successive nights, when the fire must be again applied: but on a few repetitions it is exhausted.
People commonly think that the people of China or Japan create a synthetic substance that looks like natural camphor and is infused with its properties by mixing in a small amount of the real stuff. This is sold to the Dutch factory for thirty or forty dollars per pekul, shipped to Holland, and then refined into the form we see in stores, where it sells for eight to twelve shillings per pound. However, it seems bizarre that any product could be so adulterated while still resembling and retaining the characteristics of its original, allowing sellers to resell it for just a fraction of the price they paid. But when I asked an insightful person who had lived in China for a long time, I learned that Japanese camphor is not a synthetic product; it’s directly sourced from a tree that grows abundantly in Japan, which is completely different from that of Sumatra or Borneo, well known to botanists as Laurus camphora, L. He also explained that the Chinese do not mix Sumatran camphor with Japanese camphor but instead buy the former at the previously mentioned high price, likely due to its perceived effectiveness, possibly because of superstition, and export the latter as a drug that isn’t particularly valued. This is similar to how we pay a high price for their tea leaves while overlooking herbs that grow in our own country, which might have equal benefits. It's also known that the so-called synthetic Japanese camphor can evaporate completely while maintaining its full strength at all stages of evaporation, which doesn’t seem to be a trait of an adulterated or mixed substance. Kaempfer tells us that it's made by boiling the wood and roots of the tree, cut into small pieces, and the shape of the lumps in which it’s delivered to us shows that it has been processed. The Sumatran variety, despite its extreme volatility that causes it to diminish, does not lose a noticeable amount when stored, according to my years of experience with it. It might be quite challenging to determine its superiority over the other in medicine since it's not available for sale in this country and isn’t commonly prescribed; however, a medical practitioner who worked in Bencoolen informed me that the regular dose he provided was between half a grain to one or two grains at most. The oil, although not very significant as a trade item, is a valuable home remedy and is widely used by both locals and Europeans for issues like strains, swelling, and rheumatic pain; its tiny particles can easily penetrate the skin. It doesn’t require any processing and is used in the form it naturally drips from the tree once cut. The kayu putih (Melaleuca leucadendron) oil, which is somewhat more familiar in England, is obtained in the same way; but to get the meniak kayu or common wood oil—used to protect timber or boards from decay when exposed to the weather and for boiling with dammar to seal the bottoms of ships and boats—a different method is used. They make a cut across the tree to a depth of several inches and then cut downwards from the notch until leaving a flat surface. They hollow this space out to hold about a quart. Then, they insert a burning reed into the hollowed area and leave it for about ten minutes, which stimulates the tree to draw the liquid towards that area. Overnight, the fluid fills the receptacle prepared for it, and the tree continues to produce smaller amounts for the next three nights, after which the fire must be applied again; but after a few repetitions, it becomes exhausted.
BENZOIN.
BENZOIN.
Benzoin or Benjamin (Styrax benzoin*) called by the Malays kaminian, is, like the camphor, found almost exclusively in the Batta country, to the northward of the equator, but not in the Achinese dominions immediately beyond that district. It is also met with, though rarely, south of the line, but there, either from natural inferiority or want of skill in collecting it, the small quantity produced is black and of little value. The tree does not grow to any considerable size, and is of no value as timber. The seeds or nuts, which are round, of a brown colour, and about the size of a moderate bolus, are sown in the padi-fields and afterwards require no other cultivation than to clear away the shrubs from about the young plants. In some places, especially near the sea-coast, large plantations of it are formed, and it is said that the natives, sensible of the great advantage accruing to them from the trade, in a national point of view, oblige the proprietors, by legal regulation, to keep up the succession.
Benzoin or Benjamin (Styrax benzoin), called kaminian by the Malays, is found almost exclusively in the Batta region, north of the equator, but it doesn't grow in the Achinese territories just beyond that area. It is also occasionally found south of the equator; however, the small amount produced there is either of lower quality or harvested poorly, resulting in black, low-value products. The tree itself isn't very large and has no value as timber. The seeds or nuts are round, brown, and roughly the size of a medium marble; they are planted in rice fields and require little maintenance beyond clearing away surrounding shrubs. In some areas, especially near the coast, large plantations are created, and it's said that the locals, aware of the significant advantages of this trade, mandate through local laws that owners maintain the continuity of crops.
(*Footnote. See a Botanical Description of this tree by my friend Mr. Jonas Dryander, with a plate, in Volume 77 page 307 of the Philosophical Transactions for the year 1787.)
(*Footnote. Refer to a Botanical Description of this tree by my friend Mr. Jonas Dryander, along with an image, in Volume 77, page 307 of the Philosophical Transactions from the year 1787.)
MODE OF PROCURING IT.
HOW TO GET IT.
When the trees have attained the age of about seven years, and are six or eight inches in diameter, incisions are made in the bark, from whence the balsam or gum (as it is commonly termed, although being soluble in spirits and not in water, it is rather a resin) exudes, which is carefully pared off. The purest of the gum, or Head benzoin, is that which comes from these incisions during the first three years, and is white, inclining to yellow, soft, and fragrant; after which it gradually changes to the second sort, which is of a reddish yellow, degenerating to brown; and at length when the tree, which will not bear a repetition of the process for more than ten or twelve years, is supposed to be worn out, they cut it down, and when split in pieces procure, by scraping, the worst sort, or Foot benzoin, which is dark coloured, hard, and mixed more or less with parings of the wood and other impurities. The Head is further distinguished into Europe and India-head, of which the first is superior, and is the only sort adapted to the home market: the latter, with most of the inferior sorts, is exported to Arabia,* Persia, and some parts of India, where it is burned to perfume with its smoke their temples and private houses, expel troublesome insects, and obviate the pernicious effects of unwholesome air or noxious exhalations; in addition to which uses, in the Malayan countries, it is always considered as a necessary part of the apparatus in administering an oath. It is brought down from the country for sale in large cakes, called tampang, covered with mats; and these, as a staple commodity, are employed in their dealings for a standard of value, to which the price of other things have reference, as in most parts of the world to certain metals. In order to pack it in chests it is necessary to soften the coarser sorts with boiling water; for the finer it is sufficient to break the lumps and to expose it to the heat of the sun. The greater part of the quantity brought to England is re-exported from thence to countries where the Roman Catholic and Mahometan religions prevail, to be there burnt as incense in the churches and temples.** The remainder is chiefly employed in medicine, being much esteemed as an expectorant and styptic, and constitutes the basis of that valuable balsam distinguished by the name of Turlington, whose very salutary effects, particularly in healing green and other wounds, is well known to persons abroad who cannot always obtain surgical assistance. It is also employed, if I am not misinformed, in the preparation of court sticking-plaster. The gum or resin called dulang is named by us scented benzoin from its peculiar fragrance. The rasamala (Lignum papuanum of Rumphius, and Altingia excelsa of the Batavian Transactions) is a sort of wild benzoin, of little value, and not, in Sumatra, considered as an object of commerce.
When the trees reach about seven years old and have a diameter of six to eight inches, cuts are made in the bark, allowing the balsam or gum (commonly referred to as gum, though it's actually a resin since it dissolves in alcohol and not in water) to flow out, which is then carefully scraped off. The purest form of the gum, known as Head benzoin, is collected from these cuts in the first three years. It appears white with a hint of yellow, is soft, and has a pleasant scent; after that, it gradually changes to a second type, which is a reddish-yellow that eventually turns brown. When the tree can no longer endure this process, typically after ten or twelve years, it's cut down. The trunk is split into pieces, and by scraping, the lower quality, or Foot benzoin, is harvested, which is dark, hard, and often contains bits of wood and other impurities. The Head is further categorized into Europe and India-head, with the former being superior and the only type suitable for the home market. The latter, along with most lesser varieties, is exported to Arabia,* Persia, and parts of India, where it’s burned to scent temples and homes, drive away annoying insects, and counteract the harmful effects of bad air or toxic fumes. Additionally, in the Malayan regions, it's considered essential when taking oaths. The gum is brought down from the countryside for sale in large cakes called tampang, wrapped in mats; these serve as a key commodity in trade, similar to how certain metals are used as a reference for pricing items in many parts of the world. To package it in chests, it’s necessary to soften the coarser types with boiling water; for the finer varieties, it's enough to break the lumps and warm them in the sun. Most of what is sent to England is exported again to countries where Roman Catholic and Muslim religions are predominant, to be burned as incense in churches and temples.** The remaining supply is mostly used in medicine, highly valued as an expectorant and styptic, and forms the basis of the well-known Balsam of Turlington, recognized for its healing properties, especially for cuts and wounds, which is appreciated by those abroad who may not always have access to surgical care. It’s also used, if I’m not mistaken, in making court sticking-plaster. The gum or resin called dulang is referred to by us as scented benzoin due to its unique fragrance. The rasamala (Lignum papuanum of Rumphius, and Altingia excelsa of the Batavian Transactions) is a type of wild benzoin with little value and is not regarded as a commercial item in Sumatra.
(*Footnote. Les Arabes tirent beaucoup d'autres sortes d'encens de l'Habbesch, de Sumatra, Siam, Java, etc. et parmi celles-la une qu'ils appellent Bachor (bakhor) Java, et que les Anglois nomment Benzoin, est tres semblable a l'Oliban. On en exporte en grande quantite en Turquie parles golfes d'Arabie et de Perse, et la moindre des trois especes de Benzoin, que les marchands vendent, est estimee meilleure que l'Oliban d'Arabie. Niebuhr, Description de l'Arabie page 126.)
(*Footnote. The Arabs obtain many other types of incense from Abyssinia, Sumatra, Siam, Java, etc., including one they call Bachor (bakhor) Java, which the English refer to as Benzoin. It is very similar to Olibanum. A large quantity is exported to Turkey through the Arabian and Persian Gulf. Among the three varieties of Benzoin that merchants sell, the least regarded is considered better than Arabian Olibanum. Niebuhr, Description de l'Arabie page 126.)
(**Footnote. According to Mr. Jackson the annual importation of Benzoin at Mogodor from London is about 13,000 pounds annually.)
(**Footnote. Mr. Jackson states that the annual import of Benzoin to Mogador from London is approximately 13,000 pounds each year.)
CASSIA.
CASSIA.
Cassia or kulit manis (Laurus cassia) is a coarse species of cinnamon which flourishes chiefly, as well as the two foregoing articles, in the northern part of the island; but with this difference, that the camphor and benzoin grow only near the coast, whereas the cassia is a native of the central parts of the country. It is mostly procured in those districts which lie inland of Tapanuli, but it is also found in Musi, where Palembang River takes its rise. The leaves are about four inches long, narrower than the bay (to which tribe it belongs) and more pointed; deep green; smooth surface, and plain edge. The principal fibres take their rise from the peduncle. The young leaves are mostly of reddish hue. The blossoms grow six in number upon slender footstalks, close to the bottom of the leaf. They are monopetalous, small, white, stellated in six points. The stamina are six, with one stile, growing from the germen, which stands up in three brownish segments, resembling a cup. The trees grow from fifty to sixty feet high, with large, spreading, horizontal branches, almost as low as the earth. The root is said to contain much camphor that may be obtained by boiling or other processes unknown on Sumatra. No pains is bestowed on the cultivation of the cassia. The bark, which is the part in use, is commonly taken from such of the trees as are a foot or eighteen inches diameter, for when they are younger it is said to be so thin as to lose all its qualities very soon. The difference of soil and situation alters considerably the value of the bark. Those trees which grow in a high rocky soil have red shoots, and the bark is superior to that which is produced in a moist clay, where the shoots are green. I have been assured by a person of extensive knowledge that the cassia produced on Sumatra is from the same tree which yields the true cinnamon, and that the apparent difference arises from the less judicious manner of quilling it. Perhaps the younger and more tender branches should be preferred; perhaps the age of the tree or the season of the year ought to be more nicely attended to; and lastly I have known it to be suggested that the mucilaginous slime which adheres to the inside of the fresh peeled rind does, when not carefully wiped off, injure the flavour of the cassia and render it inferior to that of the cinnamon. I am informed that it has been purchased by Dutch merchants at our India sales, where it sometimes sold to much loss, and afterwards by them shipped for Spain as cinnamon, being packed in boxes which had come from Ceylon with that article. The price it bears in the island is about ten or twelve dollars the pecul.
Cassia, or kulit manis (Laurus cassia), is a rough variety of cinnamon that mainly grows in the northern part of the island. However, unlike camphor and benzoin, which only grow near the coast, cassia is found in the central areas of the country. It's mostly harvested in regions inland from Tapanuli, but can also be found in Musi, where the Palembang River begins. The leaves are about four inches long, narrower than bay leaves (the family it belongs to), and more pointed; they are deep green with a smooth surface and plain edges. The main veins come from the petiole. The young leaves often have a reddish tint. The flowers typically grow in clusters of six on slender stalks near the base of the leaves. They are small, white, and have a single petal with six points. There are six stamens and one style that emerges from the ovary, which is divided into three brownish segments resembling a cup. The trees can reach heights of fifty to sixty feet, with large branches that spread out horizontally, almost touching the ground. It's said that the roots contain a lot of camphor, which can be extracted by boiling or through other methods not commonly practiced in Sumatra. There is no effort put into cultivating cassia. The bark, which is what is used, is usually taken from trees that are about a foot to eighteen inches in diameter because when younger, it is said to be too thin and quickly loses its qualities. The value of the bark varies significantly depending on soil and location. Trees in high, rocky soil have red shoots, and their bark is considered superior to that of trees grown in moist clay, where the shoots are green. I have been told by someone knowledgeable that the cassia found in Sumatra comes from the same tree as true cinnamon, and the differences arise from the less careful way it is processed. Perhaps the younger, more delicate branches should be prioritized; maybe the age of the tree or the time of year should be given more attention; and I've also heard that the slimy residue that sticks to the inside of the freshly peeled bark can spoil the flavor of the cassia if not carefully wiped off, making it inferior to cinnamon. I've been informed that Dutch merchants have bought it at our Indian sales, where sometimes it was sold at a loss, and later exported to Spain as cinnamon, packed in boxes that originally held Ceylon cinnamon. The price on the island is about ten to twelve dollars per pecul.
RATTANS.
Rattan furniture.
Rattans or rotan (Calamus rotang) furnish annually many large cargoes, chiefly from the eastern side of the island, where the Dutch buy them to send to Europe; and the country traders for the western parts of India. Walking-canes, or tongkat, of various kinds, are also produced near the rivers which open to the straits of Malacca.
Rattans, or rotan (Calamus rotang), provide large shipments every year, mostly from the eastern side of the island, where the Dutch purchase them to export to Europe and to country traders in the western parts of India. Different types of walking-canes, or tongkat, are also made near the rivers that connect to the straits of Malacca.
COTTON.
Cotton.
In almost every part of the country two species of cotton are cultivated, namely, the annual sort named kapas (Gossypium herbaceum), and the shrub cotton named kapas besar (Gossypium herboreum). The cotton produced from both appears to be of very good quality, and might, with encouragement, be procured in any quantities; but the natives raise no more than is necessary for their own domestic manufactures. The silk cotton or kapok (bombax) is also to be met with in every village. This is, to appearance, one of the most beautiful raw materials the hand of nature has presented. Its fineness, gloss, and delicate softness render it, to the sight and touch, much superior to the labour of the silkworm; but owing to the shortness and brittleness of the staple it is esteemed unfit for the reel and loom, and is only applied to the unworthy purpose of stuffing pillows and mattresses. Possibly it has not undergone a fair trial in the hands of our ingenious artists, and we may yet see it converted into a valuable manufacture. It grows in pods, from four to six inches long, which burst open when ripe. The seeds entirely resemble the black pepper, but are without taste. The tree is remarkable from the branches growing out perfectly straight and horizontal, and being always three, forming equal angles, at the same height: the diminutive shoots likewise grow flat; and the several gradations of branches observe the same regularity to the top. Some travellers have called it the umbrella tree, but the piece of furniture called a dumb-waiter exhibits a more striking picture of it.
In nearly every part of the country, two types of cotton are grown: the annual variety known as kapas (Gossypium herbaceum) and the shrub cotton called kapas besar (Gossypium herboreum). The cotton produced from both types seems to be of very high quality and could be produced in large quantities with the right support. However, the locals only grow enough for their own needs. The silk cotton, or kapok (bombax), can also be found in every village. It appears to be one of the most beautiful natural materials available. Its fine texture, sheen, and delicate softness make it visually and physically superior to silkworm silk, but because the fibers are short and brittle, it’s considered unsuitable for spinning and weaving, and is instead used for stuffing pillows and mattresses. It’s possible that it hasn’t been given a fair chance by our creative artisans, and we may eventually see it transformed into a valuable product. It grows in pods that are about four to six inches long, which burst open when ripe. The seeds look just like black pepper but have no flavor. The tree is notable for its perfectly straight and horizontal branches, which always grow in threes at equal angles from the same height. The tiny shoots also grow flat, and the varying levels of branches maintain the same symmetry all the way to the top. Some travelers have referred to it as the umbrella tree, but the piece of furniture known as a dumbwaiter gives a more striking resemblance.
BETEL-NUT.
Betel nut.
The betel-nut or pinang (Areca catechu) before mentioned is a considerable article of traffic to the coast of Coromandel or Telinga, particularly from Achin.
The betel-nut or pinang (Areca catechu) mentioned earlier is an important trade item for the coast of Coromandel or Telinga, especially from Achin.
COFFEE.
Coffee.
The coffee-trees are universally planted, but the fruit produced here is not excellent in quality, which is probably owing entirely to the want of skill in the management of them. The plants are disposed too close to each other, and are so much overshaded by other trees that the sun cannot penetrate to the fruit; owing to which the juices are not well ripened, and the berries, which become large, do not acquire a proper flavour. Add to this that the berries are gathered whilst red, which is before they have arrived at a due degree of maturity, and which the Arabs always permit them to attain to, esteeming it essential to the goodness of the coffee. As the tree is of the same species with that cultivated in Arabia there is little doubt but with proper care this article might be produced of a quality equal, perhaps superior, to that imported from the West Indies; though probably the heavy rains on Sumatra may prevent its attaining to the perfection of the coffee of Mocha.*
The coffee trees are widely grown, but the fruit produced here isn't great in quality, likely due to a lack of skill in how they are managed. The plants are planted too close together and are overshadowed by other trees, preventing sunlight from reaching the fruit. As a result, the juices don't ripen well, and the berries grow large but lack proper flavor. Additionally, the berries are picked when they're still red, before they fully mature, while the Arabs always let them ripen fully as they believe it’s essential for good coffee. Since the tree is the same species as those grown in Arabia, there’s little doubt that with the right care, this coffee could be produced at a quality equal to, or even better than, what's imported from the West Indies. However, the heavy rains in Sumatra might prevent it from reaching the perfection of Mocha coffee.
(*Footnote. For these observations on the growth of the coffee, as well as many others on the vegetable productions of the island, I am indebted to the letters of Mr. Charles Miller, entered on the Company's records at Bencoolen, and have to return him my thanks for many communications since his return to England. On the subject of this article of produce I have since received the following interesting information from the late Mr. Charles Campbell in a letter dated November 1803. "The coffee you recollect on this coast I found so degenerated from want of culture and care as not to be worth the rearing. But this objection has been removed, for more than three years ago I procured twenty-five plants from Mocha; they produced fruit in about twenty months, are now in their second crop, and loaded beyond any fruit-trees I ever saw. The average produce is about eight pounds a tree; but so much cannot be expected in extensive plantations, nor in every soil. The berries are in no respect inferior in flavour to those of the parent country." This cultivation, I am happy to hear, has since been carried to a great extent.)
(*Footnote. For these insights on the growth of coffee, as well as many others regarding the island's crops, I owe thanks to the letters from Mr. Charles Miller, recorded in the Company's archives at Bencoolen. I also appreciate his many communications since returning to England. Regarding this particular crop, I recently received some interesting information from the late Mr. Charles Campbell in a letter dated November 1803. "The coffee you remember on this coast had become so degraded due to lack of care that it wasn't worth growing. However, this issue has been resolved, as I obtained twenty-five plants from Mocha over three years ago; they bore fruit in about twenty months, are now in their second harvest, and are fuller than any fruit trees I've ever seen. The average yield is about eight pounds per tree, but such results may not be achievable in large plantations or in every type of soil. The berries are in no way inferior in taste to those from the original country." I'm pleased to learn that this cultivation has since significantly expanded.)
DAMMAR.
Dammar.
The dammar is a kind of turpentine or resin from a species of pine, and used for the same purposes to which that and pitch are applied. It is exported in large quantities to Bengal and elsewhere. It exudes, or flows rather, spontaneously from the tree in such plenty that there is no need of making incisions to procure it. The natives gather it in lumps from the ground where it has fallen, or collect it from the shores of bays and rivers whither it has floated. It hangs from the bough of the tree which produces it in large pieces, and hardening in the air it becomes brittle and is blown off by the first high wind. When a quantity of it has fallen in the same place it appears like a rock, and thence, they say, or more probably from its hardness, it is called dammar batu; by which name it is distinguished from the dammar kruyen. This is another species of turpentine, yielded by a tree growing in Lampong, called kruyen, the wood of which is white and porous. It differs from the common sort, or dammar batu, in being soft and whitish, having the consistence and somewhat the appearance of putty. It is in much estimation for paying the bottoms of vessels, for which use, to give it firmness and duration, it ought to be mixed with some of the hard kind, of which it corrects the brittleness. The natives, in common, do not boil it, but rub or smear it on with their hands; a practice which is probably derived from indolence, unless, as I have been informed, that boiling it, without oil, renders it hard. To procure it, an incision is made in the tree.
Dammar is a type of turpentine or resin from a species of pine and is used for the same purposes as turpentine and pitch. It's exported in large quantities to Bengal and other places. It flows freely from the tree, so there's no need to cut into it to collect it. Locals gather it in lumps from the ground where it has fallen or collect it from the shores of bays and rivers where it has floated. It hangs from the tree's branches in large pieces, and when it hardens in the air, it becomes brittle and is blown away by the first strong wind. When a bunch falls in the same spot, it looks like a rock, and that's likely why it's called dammar batu; this name distinguishes it from dammar kruyen. Dammar kruyen comes from a tree in Lampong called kruyen, which has white, porous wood. It differs from the common kind, or dammar batu, by being soft and whitish, resembling the feel and somewhat the look of putty. It’s highly valued for sealing the bottoms of boats, and to make it more durable, it should be mixed with some of the harder kind, which helps reduce brittleness. Generally, locals don’t boil it; instead, they rub or spread it on by hand, a practice likely born from laziness, unless, as I’ve been told, boiling it without oil makes it hard. To collect it, a cut is made in the tree.
DRAGONS-BLOOD.
Dragons' blood.
Dragons-blood, Sanguis draconis, or jaranang, is a drug obtained from a large species of rattan, called rotan jaranang, growing abundantly in the countries of Palembang and Jambi, where it is manufactured and exported, in the first instance to Batavia, and from thence to China, where it is held in much estimation; but whether it be precisely the drug of our shops, so named, I cannot take upon me to determine. I am informed that it is prepared in the following manner: the stamina and other parts of fructification of this plant, covered with the farina, are mixed with a certain proportion of white dammar, and boiled in water until the whole is well incorporated, and the water evaporated; by which time the composition has acquired a red colour, and, when rubbed between the fingers, comes off in a dry powder. Whilst soft, it is usually poured into joints of small bamboo, and shipped in that state. According to this account, which I received from my friend Mr. Philip Braham, who had an opportunity of acquiring a knowledge of the process, the resinous quality of the drug belongs only to the dammar, and not to the rotan.
Dragons-blood, Sanguis draconis, or jaranang, is a substance sourced from a large type of rattan called rotan jaranang, which grows abundantly in the regions of Palembang and Jambi. It's produced and exported primarily to Batavia, and from there to China, where it is highly valued. However, I'm not sure if this is exactly the same product as the one sold in our stores under that name. I've been told it's prepared like this: the stamens and other reproductive parts of the plant, covered with pollen, are mixed with a specific amount of white dammar and boiled in water until they're well blended and the water evaporates. By that point, the mixture turns red, and when you rub it between your fingers, it turns into a dry powder. While still soft, it’s typically poured into small bamboo tubes and shipped in that form. According to this explanation from my friend Mr. Philip Braham, who learned about the process firsthand, the resinous quality of the product comes solely from the dammar and not from the rotan.
GAMBIR.
Gambir.
Gambir, or gatah gambir, is a juice extracted from the leaves of a plant of that name, inspissated by decoction, strained, suffered to cool and harden, and then cut into cakes of different shapes, or formed into balls. It is very generally eaten by the natives with their sirih or betel, and is supposed to have the property of cleansing and sweetening the mouth; for which reason it is also rubbed to the gums of infants. For a minute detail of the culture and manufacture of this article at Malacca see the Batavian Transactions Volume 2 page 356, where the plant is classed between the portlandia and roella of L. In other places it is obtained from a climbing or trailing plant, evidently the Funis uncatus of Rumphius.* See also Observations on the Nauclea Gambir, by Mr. W. Hunter, in the Linnean Transactions Volume 9 page 218. At Siak, Kampar, and Indragiri, on the eastern side of Sumatra, it is an important article of commerce.
Gambir, or gatah gambir, is a juice extracted from the leaves of a plant by boiling, straining, cooling, and then hardening it into cakes of various shapes or forming it into balls. It's commonly consumed by locals with their sirih or betel, and it’s believed to help cleanse and sweeten the mouth; that's why it’s also rubbed on infants' gums. For detailed information on the cultivation and production of this item in Malacca, refer to the Batavian Transactions Volume 2 page 356, where the plant is categorized between the portlandia and roella of L. In other regions, it's sourced from a climbing or trailing plant, clearly identified as the Funis uncatus of Rumphius.* Also see Observations on the Nauclea Gambir, by Mr. W. Hunter, in the Linnean Transactions Volume 9 page 218. In Siak, Kampar, and Indragiri on the eastern side of Sumatra, it is a significant commercial product.
(*Footnote. Hoc unum adhuc addendum est, in Sumatra nempe ac forte in Java aliam quoque esse plantam repentem gatta gambir akar dictam, qum forte unae eaedemque erunt plantae; ac verbum akar Malaiensibus denotat non tantum radicem, sed repentem quoque fruticem. Volume 5 page 64.)
(*Footnote. It's worth adding that in Sumatra, and possibly in Java, there may be another creeping plant called gatta gambir akar, which might actually be the same plant; also, the word akar in Malay refers not only to root but also to a creeping shrub. Volume 5 page 64.)
LIGNUM ALOES.
Agarwood.
The agallochin, agila-wood, or lignum aloes, called by the natives kalambak and kayu gahru, is highly prized in all parts of the East, for the fragrant scent it emits in burning. I find these two names used indiscriminately in Malayan writings, and sometimes coupled together; but Valentyn pronounces the gahru to be an inferior species, and the Batavian Catalogue describes it as the heart of the rasamala, and different from the genuine kalambak. This unctuous substance, which burns like a resin, is understood to be the decayed, and probably disordered, part of the tree. It is described by Kaempfer (Amaenit page 903) under the Chinese name of sinkoo, and by Dr. Roxburgh under that of Aquillaria agallocha.
The agallochin, agila wood, or lignum aloes, known by the locals as kalambak and kayu gahru, is highly valued throughout the East for the fragrant smell it gives off when burned. I see these two names used interchangeably in Malayan texts, and sometimes mentioned together; however, Valentyn calls gahru an inferior type, and the Batavian Catalogue describes it as the heart of the rasamala, distinct from true kalambak. This oily substance, which burns like resin, is believed to be the decayed, and likely damaged, part of the tree. Kaempfer describes it (Amaenit page 903) using the Chinese name sinkoo, and Dr. Roxburgh refers to it as Aquillaria agallocha.
TIMBER.
WOOD.
The forests contain an inexhaustible store and endless variety of timber trees, many sorts of which are highly valuable and capable of being applied to ship-building and other important purposes. On the western coast the general want of navigable rivers has materially hindered both the export and the employment of timber; but those on the eastern side, particularly Siak, have heretofore supplied the city of Batavia with great abundance, and latterly the naval arsenal at Pulo Pinang with what is required for the construction of ships of war.
The forests have an endless supply and a wide variety of timber trees, many of which are highly valuable and can be used for shipbuilding and other important purposes. The lack of navigable rivers on the western coast has significantly slowed down both the export and use of timber; however, those on the eastern side, especially Siak, have previously provided the city of Batavia with plenty, and recently supplied the naval base at Pulo Pinang with what it needs for building warships.
TEAK.
TEAK wood.
The teak however, the pride of Indian forests, called by the Malays jati (Tectona grandis, L.), does not appear to be indigenous to this island, although flourishing to the northward and southward of it, in Pegu and Java; and I believe it is equally a stranger to the Malayan peninsula. Attempts have been made by the servants of the Company to promote its cultivation. Mr. Robert Hay had a plantation near Bencoolen, but the situation seemed unfavourable. Mr. John Marsden, when resident of Laye in the year 1776, sowed some seeds of it, and distributed a quantity amongst the inhabitants of his district. The former, at least, throve exceedingly, as if in their natural soil. The appearance of the tree is stately, the leaves are broad and large, and they yield, when squeezed, a red juice. The wood is well known to be, in many respects, preferable to oak, working more kindly, surpassing it in durability, and having the peculiar property of preserving the iron bolts driven into it from rust; a property that may be ascribed to the essential oil or tar contained in it, and which has lately been procured from it in large quantities by distillation at Bombay. Many ships built at that place have continued to swim so long that none could recollect the period at which they were launched.
The teak, known as the pride of Indian forests and referred to as jati (Tectona grandis, L.) by the Malays, doesn’t seem to be native to this island, although it thrives to the north and south in Pegu and Java. I believe it is also not native to the Malayan peninsula. The Company’s representatives have tried to promote its cultivation. Mr. Robert Hay had a plantation near Bencoolen, but the location seemed unsuitable. Mr. John Marsden, while living in Laye in 1776, planted some seeds and shared a number with the locals in his area. At least the former thrived remarkably, as if it were in its natural environment. The tree looks impressive, with broad, large leaves that produce a red juice when squeezed. The wood is well-known to be, in many ways, better than oak, working more easily, lasting longer, and having the unique quality of preventing rust on the iron bolts driven into it. This quality is likely due to the essential oil or tar it contains, which has recently been extracted in large amounts through distillation in Bombay. Many ships built there have lasted so long that no one remembers when they were launched.
POON, ETC.
POON, ETC.
For masts and yards the wood preferred is the red bintangur (a species of uvaria), which in all the maritime parts of India has obtained the name of poon or puhn, from the Malayan word signifying tree in general; as puhn upas, the poison-tree, puhn kayu, a timber-tree, etc.
For masts and yards, the preferred wood is red bintangur (a type of uvaria), which is commonly called poon or puhn in all the coastal regions of India. This name comes from the Malay word meaning tree in general; for example, puhn upas means poison-tree, and puhn kayu means timber-tree, etc.
The camphor-wood, so useful for carpenters' purposes, has been already mentioned.
The camphor wood, which is really useful for carpenters, has already been mentioned.
Kayu pindis or kapini (species of metrosideros), is named also kayu besi, or iron-wood, on account of its extraordinary hardness, which turns the edge of common tools.
Kayu pindis or kapini (a species of metrosideros) is also known as kayu besi, or iron-wood, because of its exceptional hardness that dulls regular tools.
Marbau (Metrosideros amboinensis, R.) grows to a large size, and is used for beams both in ship and housebuilding, as well as for other purposes to which oak is applied in Europe. Pinaga is valuable as crooked timber, and used for frames and knees of ships, being also very durable. It frequently grows in the wash of the sea.
Marbau (Metrosideros amboinensis, R.) grows to a large size and is used for beams in ship and house building, as well as for other purposes similar to those of oak in Europe. Pinaga is valuable as twisted timber and is used for frames and knees of ships, being very durable as well. It often grows in areas affected by the sea.
Juar, ebony, called in the Batavian Catalogue kayu arang, or charcoal-wood, is found here in great plenty.
Juar, ebony, known in the Batavian Catalogue as kayu arang, or charcoal-wood, is found here in large quantities.
Kayu gadis, a wood possessing the flavour and qualities of the sassafras, and used for the same purposes in medicine, but in the growth of the tree resembling rather our elm than the laurus (to which latter tribe the American sassafras belongs), is very common in the plains near Bencoolen.
Kayu gadis, a type of wood with the flavor and qualities of sassafras, is used for the same medical purposes. However, its tree structure is more similar to our elm than to the laurus (the family to which American sassafras belongs). This wood is quite common in the plains near Bencoolen.
Kayu arau (Casuarina littorea) is often termed a bastard-pine, and as such gave name to the Isle of Pines discovered by Captain Cook. By the Malays it is usually called kayu chamara, from the resemblance of its branches to the ornamental cowtails of Upper India. It has been already remarked of this tree, whose wood is not particularly useful, that it delights in a low sandy soil, and is ever the first that springs up from land relinquished by the sea.
Kayu arau (Casuarina littorea) is commonly known as bastard-pine, which also inspired the name of the Isle of Pines discovered by Captain Cook. The Malays typically refer to it as kayu chamara, due to its branches resembling the decorative cowtails of Upper India. It has already been noted that this tree, whose wood isn't very valuable, thrives in low sandy soil and is always the first to grow on land abandoned by the sea.
The rangas or rungi, commonly supposed to be the manchineel of the West Indies, but perhaps only from the noxious quality of its juices, is the Arbor vernicis of Rumphius, and particularly described in the Batavian Transactions Volume 5 under the name of Manga deleteria sylvestris, fructu parvo cordiformi. In a list of plants in the same volume, by F. Norona, it is termed Anacardium encardium. The wood has some resemblance to mahogany, is worked up into articles of furniture, and resists the destructive ravages of the white ant, but its hardness and acrid sap, which blisters the hands of those employed about it, are objections to its general use. I am not aware of the natives procuring a varnish from this tree.
The rangas or rungi, often thought to be the manchineel tree of the West Indies, likely due to its harmful sap, is the Arbor vernicis described by Rumphius. It's detailed in the Batavian Transactions Volume 5 under the name Manga deleteria sylvestris, fructu parvo cordiformi. In a plant list from the same volume by F. Norona, it’s called Anacardium encardium. The wood somewhat resembles mahogany and is made into furniture, plus it stands up against the destructive white ant. However, its hardness and the irritating sap, which can cause blisters on the hands of those working with it, are drawbacks for broader use. I’m not aware of locals making varnish from this tree.
Of the various sorts of tree producing dammar, some are said to be valuable as timber, particularly the species called dammar laut, not mentioned by Rumphius, which is employed at Pulo Pinang for frame timbers of ships, beams, and knees.
Of the different types of trees that produce dammar, some are considered valuable for timber, especially the species known as dammar laut, which Rumphius didn't mention. This tree is used in Pulo Pinang for ship frames, beams, and knees.
Kamuning (camunium, R. chalcas paniculata, Lour.) is a light-coloured wood, close, and finely grained, takes an exquisite polish, and is used for the sheaths of krises. There is also a red-grained sort, in less estimation. The appearance of the tree is very beautiful, resembling in its leaves the larger myrtle, with a white flower.
Kamuning (camunium, R. chalcas paniculata, Lour.) is a light-colored wood that is dense and has a fine grain. It takes an exquisite polish and is used for the sheaths of krises. There’s also a red-grained variety that is less highly regarded. The tree itself is very beautiful, with leaves that resemble those of the larger myrtle and features a white flower.
The langsani likewise is a wood handsomely veined, and is employed for cabinet and carved work.
The langsani is also a beautifully veined wood used for cabinetmaking and carving.
Beside these the kinds of wood most in use are the madang, ballam, maranti, laban, and marakuli. The variety is much greater, but many, from their porous nature and proneness to decay, are of very little value, and scarcely admit of seasoning before they become rotten.
Next to these, the types of wood that are most commonly used include madang, ballam, maranti, laban, and marakuli. There are many more varieties, but a lot of them are not very valuable due to their porous nature and tendency to decay, often becoming rotten before they can even be dried out.
I cannot quit the vegetable kingdom without noticing a tree which, although of no use in manufacture or commerce, not peculiar to the island, and has been often described, merits yet, for its extreme singularity, that it should not be passed over in silence. This is the jawi-jawi and ulang-ulang of the Malays, the banyan tree of the continent, the Grossularia domestica of Rumphius, and the Ficus indica or Ficus racemosa of Linnaeus. It possesses the uncommon property of dropping roots or fibres from certain parts of its boughs, which, when they touch the earth, become new stems, and go on increasing to such an extent that some have measured, in circumference of the branches, upwards of a thousand feet, and have been said to afford shelter to a troop of horse.* These fibres, that look like ropes attached to the branches, when they meet with any obstruction in their descent conform themselves to the shape of the resisting body, and thus occasion many curious metamorphoses. I recollect seeing them stand in the perfect shape of a gate long after the original posts and cross piece had decayed and disappeared; and I have been told of their lining the internal circumference of a large bricked well, like the worm in a distiller's tub; there exhibiting the view of a tree turned inside out, the branches pointing to the centre, instead of growing from it. It is not more extraordinary in its manner of growth than whimsical and fantastic in its choice of situations. From the side of a wall or the top of a house it seems to spring spontaneously. Even from the smooth surface of a wooden pillar, turned and painted, I have seen it shoot forth, as if the vegetative juices of the seasoned timber had renewed their circulation and begun to produce leaves afresh. I have seen it flourish in the centre of a hollow tree of a very different species, which however still retained its verdure, its branches encompassing those of the adventitious plant whilst its decayed trunk enclosed the stem, which was visible, at interstices, from nearly the level of the plain on which they grew. This in truth appeared so striking a curiosity that I have often repaired to the spot to contemplate the singularity of it. How the seed from which it is produced happens to occupy stations seemingly so unnatural is not easily determined. Some have imagined the berries carried thither by the wind, and others, with more appearance of truth, by the birds; which, cleansing their bills where they light, or attempt to light, leave, in those places, the seeds adhering by the viscous matter which surrounds them. However this be, the jawi-jawi, growing on buildings without earth or water, and deriving from the genial atmosphere its principle of nourishment, proves in its increasing growth highly destructive to the fabric where it is harboured; for the fibrous roots, which are at first extremely fine, penetrate common cements, and, overcoming as their size enlarges the most powerful resistance, split, with the force of the mechanic wedge, the most substantial brickwork. When the consistence is such as not to admit the insinuation of the fibres the root extends itself along the outside, and to an extraordinary length, bearing not unfrequently to the stem the proportion of eight to one when young. I have measured the former sixty inches, when the latter, to the extremity of the leaf, which took up a third part, was no more than eight inches. I have also seen it wave its boughs at the apparent height of two hundred feet, of which the roots, if we may term them such, occupied at least one hundred; forming by their close combination the appearance of a venerable gothic pillar. It stood near the plains of Krakap, but, like other monuments of antiquity, it had its period of existence, and is now no more.
I can’t leave the plant world without mentioning a tree that, while not useful for manufacturing or trade, isn’t unique to the island and has been described many times, still deserves recognition for its extreme uniqueness. This is the jawi-jawi and ulang-ulang of the Malays, the banyan tree from the mainland, the Grossularia domestica of Rumphius, and the Ficus indica or Ficus racemosa of Linnaeus. It has the rare ability to drop roots or fibers from certain parts of its branches, which, when they touch the ground, become new stems. These can grow so large that some branches measure over a thousand feet in circumference and can shelter a troop of horses. These fibers, resembling ropes hanging from the branches, adapt their shape when they encounter obstacles as they descend, leading to many curious transformations. I remember seeing them form the perfect shape of a gate long after the original posts and crosspiece had rotted away; I’ve been told they even lined the inside of a large bricked well, like woodworms in a distiller's tub, creating a view of a tree turned inside out, with branches pointing toward the center instead of growing out from it. It's not just unusual in how it grows but also in where it chooses to thrive. It appears to sprout spontaneously from the side of a wall or the top of a building. I’ve even seen it emerge from the smooth surface of a painted wooden pillar, as if the plant juices in the seasoned timber had revived and started producing leaves again. I’ve seen it thrive in the center of a hollow tree of a different species that still retained its greenery, its branches surrounding those of the new plant while its decayed trunk encased the stem, which could be seen peeking through openings near ground level. This seemed such a striking curiosity that I often visited the spot just to admire its uniqueness. How the seed that produces it ends up in seemingly such odd places isn’t easily determined. Some think the berries are carried there by the wind, while others, with more credibility, believe it’s the birds; they clean their beaks where they land, leaving behind the seeds stuck in the sticky matter surrounding them. Whatever the case, the jawi-jawi, growing on buildings without soil or water and drawing nourishment from the friendly atmosphere, proves highly destructive to the structures where it grows. The fibrous roots, initially very fine, penetrate common cement and, as they grow larger, they break apart even the sturdiest brickwork with the force of a mechanical wedge. If the material is too solid for the fibers to get through, the roots will extend along the outside, often becoming much longer than the stem, sometimes as much as eight times longer when the plant is young. I’ve measured the roots at sixty inches, while the stem, up to the tip of the leaf—which made up a third of its height—was only eight inches. I’ve also seen it wave its branches at an apparent height of two hundred feet, with the roots, if we call them that, taking up at least one hundred feet, forming a structure that looks like an ancient gothic pillar. It stood near the plains of Krakap, but like other ancient monuments, it had its time and is now gone.
(*Footnote. The following is an account of the dimensions of a remarkable banyan or burr tree, near Manjee, twenty miles west of Patna in Bengal. Diameter 363 to 375 feet. Circumference of shadow at noon 1116 feet. Circumference of the several stems, in number fifty or sixty, 921 feet. Under this tree sat a naked Fakir, who had occupied that situation for twenty-five years; but he did not continue there the whole year through, for his vow obliged him to lie, during the four cold months, up to his neck in the waters of the river Ganges.)
(*Footnote. This is a description of the size of an impressive banyan or burr tree located near Manjee, twenty miles west of Patna in Bengal. Its diameter is between 363 and 375 feet. The circumference of its shadow at noon is 1,116 feet. The combined circumference of its several stems, totaling around fifty or sixty, is 921 feet. Beneath this tree sat a naked Fakir who had been in that spot for twenty-five years; however, he did not stay there all year, as his vow required him to lie in the waters of the Ganges up to his neck for the four cold months.)
CHAPTER 8.
GOLD, TIN, AND OTHER METALS.
BEESWAX.
IVORY.
BIRDS-NEST, ETC.
IMPORT-TRADE.
GOLD, TIN, AND OTHER METALS.
BEESWAX.
IVORY.
BIRDS' NEST, ETC.
IMPORT TRADE.
GOLD.
Gold.
Beside those articles of trade afforded by the vegetable kingdom Sumatra produces many others, the chief of which is gold. This valuable metal is found mostly in the central parts of the island; none (or with few exceptions) being observed to the southward of Limun, a branch of Jambi River, nor to the northward of Nalabu, from which port Achin is principally supplied. Menangkabau has always been esteemed the richest seat of it; and this consideration probably induced the Dutch to establish their head factory at Padang, in the immediate neighbourhood of that kingdom. Colonies of Malays from thence have settled themselves in almost all the districts where gold is procured, and appear to be the only persons who dig for it in mines, or collect it in streams; the proper inhabitants or villagers confining their attention to the raising of provisions, with which they supply those who search for the metal. Such at least appears to be the case in Limun, Batang Asei, and Pakalang jambu, where a considerable gold trade is carried on.
Alongside the trading goods from the plant kingdom, Sumatra also produces many other items, with gold being the most important. This precious metal is mostly found in the central parts of the island; very little is seen to the south of Limun, a branch of the Jambi River, or to the north of Nalabu, which is the main port that supplies Achin. Menangkabau has always been recognized as the richest area for gold, and this likely motivated the Dutch to set up their main trading post in Padang, right next to that kingdom. Groups of Malays from there have settled in almost all the regions where gold is mined and seem to be the only ones who extract it from mines or gather it from streams; the local inhabitants focus on growing food to supply those searching for gold. This appears to be the situation in Limun, Batang Asei, and Pakalang Jambu, where a significant gold trade is active.
It has been generally understood at the English settlements that earth taken up from the beds of rivers, or loosened from the adjacent banks, and washed by means of rivulets diverted towards the newly-opened ground, furnishes the greater proportion of the gold found in the island, and that the natives are not accustomed to venture upon any excavation that deserves the name of mining; but our possession, during the present war, of the settlements that belonged to the Dutch, has enabled us to form juster notions on the subject, and the following account, obtained from well-informed persons on the spot, will show the methods pursued in both processes, and the degree of enterprise and skill employed by the workmen.
It has been generally understood in the English settlements that soil taken from riverbeds or loosened from nearby banks, and then washed using streams directed towards the newly cleared land, provides most of the gold found on the island. The locals typically don’t engage in any digging that can really be called mining. However, our control of the settlements that were previously Dutch during the current war has allowed us to gain a clearer understanding of the situation. The following account, gathered from knowledgeable sources on-site, will illustrate the methods used in both processes and the level of effort and skill shown by the workers.
In the districts situated inland of Padang, which is the principal mart for this article, little is collected otherwise than from mines (tambang) by people whose profession it is to work them, and who are known by the appellation of orang gulla. The metal brought down for sale is for the most part of two sorts, distinguished by the terms amas supayang and amas sungei-abu, from the names of places where they are respectively procured. The former is what we usually call rock-gold, consisting of pieces of quartz more or less intermixed with veins of gold, generally of fine quality, running through it in all directions, and forming beautiful masses, which, being admired by Europeans, are sometimes sold by weight as if the whole were solid metal. The mines yielding this sort are commonly situated at the foot of a mountain, and the shafts are driven horizontally to the extent of from eight to twenty fathoms. The gold to which sungei-abu gives name is on the contrary found in the state of smooth solid lumps, in shape like gravel, and of various sizes, the largest lump that I have seen weighing nine ounces fifteen grains, and one in my possession (for which I am indebted to Mr. Charles Holloway) weighing eight grains less than nine ounces. This sort is also termed amas lichin or smooth gold, and appears to owe that quality to its having been exposed, in some prior state of the soil or conformation of the earth, to the action of running water, and deprived of its sharp and rough edges by attrition. This form of gravel is the most common in which gold is discovered. Gold-dust or amas urei is collected either in the channels of brooks running over ground rich in the metal, in standing pools of water occasioned by heavy rains, or in a number of holes dug in a situation to which a small rapid stream can be directed.
In the areas located inland from Padang, which is the main market for this article, little is gathered except from mines (tambang) by people who make a living working them, known as orang gulla. The metal that gets brought down for sale is mostly of two types, referred to as amas supayang and amas sungei-abu, named after the locations where they are found. The first is what we usually call rock-gold, made up of chunks of quartz mixed with veins of gold, typically of good quality, running through it in various directions and forming beautiful pieces that Europeans admire, sometimes sold by weight as if the whole was solid metal. The mines that produce this type are usually found at the base of a mountain, and the shafts are dug horizontally between eight and twenty fathoms deep. The gold referred to by the name sungei-abu, on the other hand, is found as smooth solid lumps, shaped like gravel, and of different sizes, with the largest lump I've seen weighing nine ounces and fifteen grains, and one I have (thanks to Mr. Charles Holloway) weighing eight grains less than nine ounces. This type is also called amas lichin or smooth gold, and its smoothness seems to result from having been exposed, in some previous state of the soil or earth's formation, to the action of running water, which has worn down its sharp edges. This form of gravel is the most common one for discovering gold. Gold-dust, or amas urei, is collected either in the beds of streams flowing over gold-rich ground, in standing pools created by heavy rains, or in several holes dug where a small fast stream can be channeled.
The tools employed in working the mines are an iron crow three feet in length, called tabah, a shovel called changkul, and a heavy iron mallet or hammer, the head of which is eighteen inches in length and as thick as a man's leg, with a handle in the middle. With this they beat the lumps of rock till they are reduced to powder, and the pounded mass is then put into a sledge or tray five or six feet long and one and a half broad, in the form of a boat, and thence named bidu. To this vessel a rope of iju is attached, by which they draw it when loaded out of the horizontal mine to the nearest place where they can meet with a supply of water, which alone is employed to separate the gold from the pulverized quartz.
The tools used in mining include a three-foot iron crowbar called a tabah, a shovel known as a changkul, and a heavy iron mallet or hammer with an eighteen-inch long head as thick as a man's leg, featuring a handle in the middle. They use this hammer to crush rocks into powder, and the crushed material is then placed into a sledge or tray, about five or six feet long and one and a half feet wide, shaped like a boat, called a bidu. A rope made from iju is attached to this vessel, allowing them to pull it when it's loaded out of the mine to the nearest spot with access to water, which is the only resource used to separate the gold from the crushed quartz.
In the perpendicular mines the smooth or gravel-gold is often found near the surface, but in small quantities, improving as the workmen advance, and again often vanishing suddenly. This they say is most likely to be the case when after pursuing a poor vein they suddenly come to large lumps. When they have dug to the depth of four, six, or sometimes eight fathoms (which they do at a venture, the surface not affording any indications on which they can depend), they work horizontally, supporting the shaft with timbers; but to persons acquainted with the berg-werken of Germany or Hungary, these pits would hardly appear to merit the appellation of mines.* In Siberia however, as in Sumatra, the hills yield their gold by slightly working them. Sand is commonly met with at the depth of three or four fathoms, and beneath this a stratum of napal or steatite, which is considered as a sign that the metal is near; but the least fallible mark is a red stone, called batu kawi, lying in detached pieces. It is mostly found in red and white clay, and often adhering to small stones, as well as in homogeneous lumps. The gold is separated from the clay by means of water poured on a hollow board, in the management of which the persons employed are remarkably expert.
In the vertical mines, smooth or gravel-gold is often found near the surface, but in small amounts, improving as the miners go deeper, and then often disappearing suddenly. They say this is most likely when, after digging through a poor vein, they suddenly find larger nuggets. After digging down to four, six, or sometimes eight fathoms (which they do on a hunch, as the surface doesn't provide reliable clues), they work horizontally, supporting the shaft with timber; but to those familiar with the mining techniques in Germany or Hungary, these pits would hardly be considered true mines.* In Siberia, however, like in Sumatra, gold is extracted from the hills with minimal effort. Sand is usually found at three or four fathoms deep, and below that, there’s a layer of talc or soapstone, which indicates that metal is close by; but the most reliable sign is a red stone called batu kawi, found in isolated pieces. It’s mostly located in red and white clay and often sticks to small stones, as well as in cohesive lumps. The gold is separated from the clay by pouring water over a hollow board, and the workers are quite skilled in managing this process.
(*Footnote. It has been observed to me that it is not so much the want of windlasses or machines (substitutes for which they are ready enough at contriving) that prevents excavation to a great depth as the apprehension of earthquakes, the effect of which has frequently been to overwhelm them before they could escape even from their shallow mines.)
(*Footnote. I’ve been told that it’s not really the lack of winches or machines (they’re quite good at coming up with substitutes) that stops them from digging deep, but rather the fear of earthquakes. The impact of these disasters has often resulted in them being buried before they could even escape from their shallow mines.)
In these perpendicular mines the water is drawn off by hand in pails or buckets. In the horizontal they make two shafts or entries in a direction parallel to each other, as far as they mean to extend the work, and there connect them by a cross trench. One of these, by a difference in their respective levels, serves as a drain to carry off the water, whilst the other is kept dry. They work in parties of from four or five to forty or fifty in number; the proprietor of the ground receiving one half of the produce and the undertakers the other; and it does not appear that the prince receives any established royalty. The hill people affect a kind of independence or equality which they express by the term of sama rata.
In these vertical mines, workers manually remove water using pails or buckets. In the horizontal mines, they create two shafts or entrances parallel to each other, extending as far as they plan to dig, and then connect them with a cross trench. One shaft, due to the difference in their respective levels, acts as a drain to get rid of the water, while the other remains dry. They work in teams ranging from four or five to forty or fifty people; the landowner receives half of the output, while the miners keep the other half. It doesn’t seem like the prince gets any standard royalty from this. The mountain people emphasize a sense of independence or equality, which they refer to as sama rata.
It may well be imagined that mines of this description are very numerous, and in the common estimation of the natives they amount to no fewer than twelve hundred in the dominions of Menangkabau. A considerable proportion of their produce (perhaps one half) never comes into the hands of Europeans but is conveyed to the eastern side of the island, and yet I have been assured on good authority that from ten to twelve thousand ounces have annually been received, on public and private account, at Padang alone; at Nalabu about two thousand, Natal eight hundred, and Moco-moco six hundred. The quality of the gold collected in the Padang districts is inferior to that purchased at Natal and Moco-moco, in consequence of the practice of blending together the unequal produce of such a variety of mines which in other parts it is customary to keep distinct. The gold from the former is of the fineness of from nineteen to twenty-one, and from the latter places is generally of from twenty-two to twenty-three carats. The finest that has passed through my hands was twenty-three carats, one grain and a half, assayed at the Tower of London. Gold of an inferior touch, called amas muda from the paleness of its colour, is found in the same countries where the other is produced. I had some assayed which was two carats three grains worse than standard, and contained an alloy of silver, but not in a proportion to be affected by the acids. I have seen gold brought from Mampawah in Borneo which was in the state of a fine uniform powder, high-coloured, and its degree of fineness not exceeding fifteen or sixteen carats. The natives suppose these differences to proceed from an original essential inferiority of the metal, not possessing the art of separating it from the silver or copper. In this island it is never found in the state of ore, but is always completely metallic. A very little pale gold is now and then found in the Lampong country.
It's easy to imagine that mines like these are quite plentiful, and the locals believe there are at least twelve hundred in the Menangkabau region. A significant portion of their output (possibly half) never reaches Europeans and is sent to the eastern side of the island. However, I've received reliable information that Padang alone gets about ten to twelve thousand ounces annually, both for public use and private sales; Nalabu gets around two thousand, Natal eight hundred, and Moco-moco six hundred. The quality of the gold from the Padang area is lower than that from Natal and Moco-moco because they mix different outputs from various mines, while in other regions, it's common to keep them separate. The gold from Padang ranges from nineteen to twenty-one carats in purity, while the gold from the other locations typically ranges from twenty-two to twenty-three carats. The finest piece I've handled was twenty-three carats, one and a half grains, tested at the Tower of London. Lower quality gold, known as amas muda due to its lighter color, is found in the same areas as the higher quality gold. I had some of it tested, and it was two carats and three grains below standard, containing some silver but not enough to be affected by acids. I've also seen gold from Mampawah in Borneo that was a fine, uniform powder with a rich color, but its purity didn’t exceed fifteen or sixteen carats. The locals believe these differences arise from an inherent lower quality of the metal, as they lack the means to separate it from silver or copper. In this island, gold is never found in ore form; it's always in a pure metallic state. Occasionally, some pale gold is found in the Lampong region.
Of those who dig for it the most intelligent, distinguished by the name of sudagar or merchants, are intrusted by the rest with their collections, who carry the gold to the places of trade on the great eastern rivers, or to the settlements on the west coast, where they barter it for iron (of which large quantities are consumed in tools for working the mines), opium, and the fine piece-goods of Madras and Bengal with which they return heavily loaded to their country. In some parts of the journey they have the convenience of water-carriage on lakes and rivers; but in others they carry on their backs a weight of about eighty pounds through woods, over streams, and across mountains, in parties generally of one hundred or more, who have frequent occasion to defend their property against the spirit of plunder and extortion which prevails among the poorer nations through whose districts they are obliged to pass. Upon the proposal of striking out any new road the question always asked by these intermediate people is, apa ontong kami, what is to be our advantage?
Of those who dig for it, the smartest ones, known as sudagar or merchants, are trusted by the others with their collections. They take the gold to trading spots along the major eastern rivers or to settlements on the west coast, where they exchange it for iron (which is used in large amounts to make tools for the mines), opium, and fine textiles from Madras and Bengal. They return heavily loaded to their homeland. On some parts of the journey, they can use boats on lakes and rivers, but in other areas, they carry around eighty pounds on their backs, navigating through forests, streams, and mountains, generally in groups of one hundred or more. They often have to defend their goods against the thieves and extortionists that roam the poorer regions they pass through. When someone suggests creating a new route, the first question these middlemen ask is, apa ontong kami, what’s in it for us?
PRICE.
COST.
When brought to our settlements it was formerly purchased at the rate of eighteen Spanish dollars the tail, or about three pounds five shillings the ounce, but in later times it has risen to twenty-one dollars, or to three pounds eighteen shillings the ounce. Upon exportation to Europe therefore it scarcely affords a profit to the original buyer, and others who employ it as a remittance incur a loss when insurance and other incidental charges are deducted. A duty of five per cent which it had been customary to charge at the East India-house was, about twenty years ago, most liberally remitted by the Company upon a representation made by me to the Directors of the hardship sustained in this respect by its servants at Fort Marlborough, and the public benefit that would accrue from giving encouragement to the importation of bullion. The long continuance of war and peculiar risk of Indian navigation resulting from it may probably have operated to counteract these good effects.
When it was first brought to our settlements, it used to sell for eighteen Spanish dollars per tail, or about three pounds five shillings per ounce, but recently the price has gone up to twenty-one dollars, or three pounds eighteen shillings per ounce. Because of this, when it's exported to Europe, it barely gives any profit to the original buyer, and others who use it as a way to send money often end up losing money after deducting insurance and other fees. About twenty years ago, a five percent duty that was normally charged at the East India House was generously waived by the Company after I explained to the Directors how much hardship this caused for their servants at Fort Marlborough and how beneficial it would be to encourage the importation of bullion. However, the prolonged war and unique risks associated with Indian navigation during this time may have undermined these positive outcomes.
It has generally been thought surprising that the European Companies who have so long had establishments in Sumatra should not have considered it an object to work these mines upon a regular system, with proper machinery, and under competent inspection; but the attempt has in fact been made, and experience and calculation may have taught them that it is not a scheme likely to be attended with success, owing among other causes to the dearness of labour, and the necessity it would occasion for keeping up a force in distant parts of the country for the protection of the persons engaged and the property collected. Europeans cannot be employed upon such work in that climate, and the natives are unfit for (nor would they submit to) the laborious exertion required to render the undertaking profitable. A detailed and in many respects interesting account of the working a gold mine at Sileda, with a plate representing a section of the mine, is given by Elias Hesse,* who in the year 1682 accompanied the Bergh-Hoofdman, Benj. Olitzsch, and a party of miners from Saxony, sent out by the Dutch East India Company for that purpose. The superintendent, with most of his people, lost their lives, and the undertaking failed. It is said at Padang that the metal proved to be uncommonly poor. Many years later trial was made of a vein running close to that settlement; but the returns not being adequate to the expense it was let to farm, and in a few years fell into such low repute as to be at length disposed of by public auction at a rent of two Spanish dollars.** The English company, also having intelligence of a mine said to be discovered near Fort Marlborough, gave orders for its being worked; but if it ever existed no trace now remains.
It's generally surprising that European companies, which have had operations in Sumatra for so long, haven't tried to run these mines in a regular way, with proper machinery and skilled supervision. However, efforts have been made, and experience and calculations may have shown them that it's not a viable plan, partly because of the high cost of labor and the need to maintain a force in remote areas of the country to protect the workers and the resources gathered. Europeans can't do this kind of work in that climate, and the locals are neither capable of nor willing to do the hard work needed to make the venture profitable. A detailed and quite interesting account of mining for gold at Sileda, including a diagram of the mine, is provided by Elias Hesse,* who, in 1682, joined the Bergh-Hoofdman Benj. Olitzsch and a group of miners from Saxony sent by the Dutch East India Company for this purpose. The supervisor and most of his crew lost their lives, and the project failed. It's said in Padang that the metal turned out to be unusually low quality. Many years later, an attempt was made at a vein near that settlement, but since the returns didn’t cover the costs, it was leased out, and eventually fell into such disrepute that it was finally put up for public auction at a rent of two Spanish dollars.** The English company, having learned about a mine reportedly found near Fort Marlborough, ordered it to be worked, but if it ever existed, there’s no sign of it now.
(*Footnote. Ost-Indische Reise-beschreibung oder Diarium. Leipzig 1690 octavo. See also J.W. Vogel's Ost-Indianische Reise-beschreibung. Altenburg 1704 octavo.)
(*Footnote: Description of the East Indian Journey or Diary. Leipzig 1690, octavo. See also J.W. Vogel's Description of the East Indian Journey. Altenburg 1704, octavo.)
(**Footnote. The following is an extract of a letter from Mr. James Moore, a servant of the Company, dated from Padang in 1778. "They have lately opened a vein of gold in the country inland of this place, from which the governor at one time received a hundred and fifty tials (two hundred ounces). He has procured a map to be made of a particular part of the gold country, which points out the different places where they work for it; and also the situation of twenty-one Malay forts, all inhabited and in repair. These districts are extremely populous compared to the more southern part of the island. They collect and export annually to Batavia about two thousand five hundred tials of gold from this place: the quantity never exceeds three thousand tials nor falls short of two thousand." This refers to the public export on the Company's account, which agrees with what is stated in the Batavian Transactions. "In een goed Jaar geeven de Tigablas cottas omtrent 3000 Thail, zynde 6 Thail een Mark, dus omtrent 500 Mark Goud, van 't gchalte van 19 tot 20 carat.")
(**Footnote. The following is an excerpt from a letter from Mr. James Moore, an employee of the Company, written from Padang in 1778. "Recently, they discovered a gold vein in the area inland from here, from which the governor received a hundred and fifty tials (about two hundred ounces) at one point. He has arranged for a map to be created of a specific part of the gold-producing region, which shows the various sites where they mine for it, as well as the locations of twenty-one Malay forts, all of which are occupied and well-maintained. These areas are very populated compared to the more southern part of the island. They collect and export around two thousand five hundred tials of gold from here to Batavia every year: the amount never exceeds three thousand tials or falls short of two thousand." This refers to the public export on the Company's behalf, which agrees with what is mentioned in the Batavian Transactions. "In a good year, the Tigablas cottas yield about 3000 Thail, with 6 Thail equating to a Mark, so approximately 500 Marks of gold, ranging from 19 to 20 carats.")
Before the gold dust is weighed for sale, in order to cleanse it from all impurities and heterogeneous mixtures, whether natural or fraudulent, (such as filings of copper or of iron) a skilful person is employed who, by the sharpness of his eye and long practice, is able to effect this to a surprising degree of nicety. The dust is spread out on a kind of wooden platter, and the base particles (lanchong) are touched out from the mass and put aside one by one with an instrument, if such it may be termed, made of cotton cloth rolled up to a point. If the honesty of these goldcleaners can be depended upon their dexterity is almost infallible; and as some check upon the former it is usual to pour the contents of each parcel when thus cleansed into a vessel of aqua-fortis, which puts their accuracy to the test. The parcels or bulses in which the gold is packed up are formed of the integument that covers the heart of the buffalo. This has the appearance of bladder, but is both tougher and more pliable. In those parts of the country where the traffic in the article is considerable it is generally employed as currency instead of coin; every man carries small scales about him, and purchases are made with it so low as to the weight of a grain or two of padi. Various seeds are used as gold weights, but more especially these two: the one called rakat or saga-timbangan (Glycine abrus L. or Abrus maculatus of the Batavian Transactions) being the well-known scarlet pea with a black spot, twenty-four of which constitute a mas, and sixteen mas a tail: the other called sagapuhn and kondori batang (Adenanthera pavonia, L.), a scarlet or rather coral bean, much larger than the former and without the black spot. It is the candarin-weight of the Chinese, of which a hundred make a tail, and equal, according to the tables published by Stevens, to 5.7984 gr. troy; but the average weight of those in my possession is 10.50 grains. The tail differs however in the northern and southern parts of the island, being at Natal twenty-four pennyweights nine grains, and at Padang, Bencoolen, and elsewhere, twenty-six pennyweights twelve grains. At Achin the bangkal of thirty pennyweights twenty-one grains, is the standard. Spanish dollars are everywhere current, and accounts are kept in dollars, sukus (imaginary quarter-dollars) and kepping or copper cash, of which four hundred go to the dollar. Beside these there are silver fanams, single, double, and treble (the latter called tali) coined at Madras, twenty-four fanams or eight talis being equal to the Spanish dollar, which is always valued in the English settlements at five shillings sterling. Silver rupees have occasionally been struck in Bengal for the use of the settlements on the coast of Sumatra, but not in sufficient quantities to become a general currency; and in the year 1786 the Company contracted with the late Mr. Boulton of Soho for a copper coinage, the proportions of which I was desired to adjust, as well as to furnish the inscriptions; and the same system, with many improvements suggested by Mr. Charles Wilkins, has since been extended to the three Presidencies of India. At Achin small thin gold and silver coins were formerly struck and still are current; but I have not seen any of the pieces that bore the appearance of modern coinage; nor am I aware that this right of sovereignty is exercised by any other power in the island.
Before the gold dust is weighed for sale, it needs to be cleaned of all impurities and mixed substances, whether natural or fake (like copper or iron filings). A skilled person is hired who, with a keen eye and extensive experience, can do this with remarkable precision. The dust is spread out on a wooden platter, and the base particles (lanchong) are picked out from the mass one by one with a tool made from rolled-up cotton cloth with a pointed tip. If the honesty of these gold cleaners can be trusted, their skill is nearly flawless. As a check on their work, it’s common to pour the cleaned contents into a container of aqua-fortis, which tests their accuracy. The packages that hold the gold are made from the covering of the buffalo’s heart. This material looks like bladder but is tougher and more flexible. In areas where gold trade is significant, it is often used as currency instead of coins; everyone carries small scales to make purchases as low as a grain or two of padi. Various seeds serve as gold weights, notably two types: one called rakat or saga-timbangan (Glycine abrus L. or Abrus maculatus), the well-known scarlet pea with a black spot, of which twenty-four make a mas, and sixteen mas make a tail. The other is called saga-puhn and kondori batang (Adenanthera pavonia, L.), a larger scarlet or coral bean without a black spot. This is the candarin-weight per the Chinese, of which a hundred make a tail and is equivalent, according to Stevens' published tables, to 5.7984 gr. troy; but the average weight of those I have is 10.50 grains. However, the tail weight varies in different parts of the island: in Natal it's twenty-four pennyweights nine grains, while in Padang, Bencoolen, and elsewhere, it is twenty-six pennyweights twelve grains. In Achin, the standard is the bangkal of thirty pennyweights twenty-one grains. Spanish dollars are universally accepted, and transactions are recorded in dollars, sukus (imaginary quarter-dollars), and kepping or copper cash, of which four hundred make a dollar. In addition, there are silver fanams—single, double, and treble (the latter called tali)—minted in Madras, where twenty-four fanams or eight talis equal one Spanish dollar, which is always valued at five shillings sterling in English settlements. Occasionally, silver rupees were minted in Bengal for the settlements along the coast of Sumatra, but not in enough quantity to become standard currency. In 1786, the Company contracted with the late Mr. Boulton of Soho for a copper coinage, which I helped adjust the proportions for and provided the inscriptions. This system, along with many improvements suggested by Mr. Charles Wilkins, has since been expanded to the three Presidencies of India. In Achin, small gold and silver coins were once minted and are still in circulation; however, I have not encountered any coins resembling modern currency, nor am I aware of any other power on the island exercising this sovereign right.
TIN.
TIN.
Tin, called timar, is a very considerable article of trade, and many cargoes of it are yearly carried to China, where the consumption is chiefly for religious purposes. The mines are situated in the island of Bangka, lying near Palembang, and are said to have been accidentally discovered there in 1710, by the burning of a house. They are worked by a colony of Chinese (said in the Batavian Transactions to consist of twenty-five thousand persons) under the nominal direction of the king of Palembang, but for the account and benefit of the Dutch Company, which has endeavoured to monopolize the trade, and actually obtained two millions of pounds yearly; but the enterprising spirit of private merchants, chiefly English and American, finds means to elude the vigilance of its cruisers, and the commerce is largely participated by them. It is exported for the most part in small pieces or cakes called tampang, and sometimes in slabs. M. Sonnerat reports that this tin (named calin by the French writers), was analysed by M. Daubenton, who found it to be the same metal as that produced in England; but it sells something higher than our grain-tin. In different parts of Sumatra, there are indications of tin-earth, or rather sand, and it is worked at the mountain of Sungei-pagu, but not to any great extent. Of this sand, at Bangka, a pikul, or 133 pounds is said to yield about 75 pounds of the metal.
Tin, known as timar, is a significant trade item, and many shipments of it are sent to China each year, mainly for religious uses. The mines are located on the island of Bangka, near Palembang, and were reportedly discovered by accident in 1710 due to a house fire. They are operated by a community of Chinese (estimated in the Batavian Transactions to number around twenty-five thousand) under the nominal oversight of the king of Palembang, but they benefit the Dutch Company, which aims to monopolize the trade and successfully exports about two million pounds annually. However, the entrepreneurial spirit of private merchants, mainly from England and America, manages to bypass the scrutiny of Dutch patrols, and they participate significantly in the trade. The tin is mostly exported in small pieces or cakes called tampang, and sometimes in slabs. M. Sonnerat mentions that this tin (referred to as calin by French authors) was analyzed by M. Daubenton, who found it to be the same metal as that produced in England, but it sells for a somewhat higher price than our grain-tin. Various regions in Sumatra show signs of tin-rich earth, or rather sand, and there is some mining at the Sungei-pagu mountain, though not extensively. At Bangka, it is said that a pikul, or 133 pounds, yields about 75 pounds of the metal.
COPPER.
Copper.
A rich mine of copper is worked at Mukki near Labuan-haji, by the Achinese. The ore produces half its original weight in pure metal, and is sold at the rate of twenty dollars the pikul. A lump which I deposited in the Museum of the East India Company is pronounced to be native copper. The Malays are fond of mixing this metal with gold in equal quantities, and using the composition, which they name swasa, in the manufacture of buttons, betel-boxes, and heads of krises. I have never heard silver spoken of as a production of this part of the East.
A rich copper mine is being operated at Mukki near Labuan-haji by the Achinese. The ore yields half its original weight in pure metal and is sold for twenty dollars per pikul. A piece I donated to the Museum of the East India Company has been identified as native copper. The Malays like to mix this metal with gold in equal amounts, using the blend, which they call swasa, to make buttons, betel-boxes, and kris handles. I've never heard of silver being produced in this area of the East.
IRON.
Iron.
Iron ore is dug at a place named Turawang, in the eastern part of Menangkabau, and there smelted, but not, I apprehend, in large quantities, the consumption of the natives being amply supplied with English and Swedish bar-iron, which they are in the practice of purchasing by measure instead of weight.
Iron ore is mined in a place called Turawang, in eastern Menangkabau, and smelted there, though I believe it's not done in large amounts since the locals are sufficiently supplied with English and Swedish bar-iron, which they tend to buy by measurement rather than weight.
SULPHUR.
SULFUR.
Sulphur (balerang), as has been mentioned, is abundantly procured from the numerous volcanoes, and especially from that very great one which is situated about a day's journey inland from Priaman. Yellow Arsenic (barangan) is also an article of traffic.
Sulfur (balerang), as previously mentioned, is easily obtained from the many volcanoes, especially from the large one located about a day's journey inland from Priaman. Yellow Arsenic (barangan) is also a traded item.
SALTPETRE.
Sodium nitrate.
In the country of Kattaun, near the head of Urei River, there are extensive caves (goha) from the soil of which saltpetre (mesiyu mantah) is extracted. M. Whalfeldt, who was employed as a surveyor, visited them in March 1773. Into one he advanced seven hundred and fortythree feet, when his lights were extinguished by the damp vapour. Into a second he penetrated six hundred feet, when, after getting through a confined passage about three feet wide and five in height, an opening in the rock led to a spacious place forty feet high. The same caves were visited by Mr. Christopher Terry and Mr. Charles Miller. They are the habitation of innumerable birds, which are perceived to abound the more the farther you proceed. Their nests are formed about the upper parts of the cave, and it is thought to be their dung simply that forms the soil (in many places from four to six feet deep, and from fifteen to twenty broad) which affords the nitre. A cubic foot of this earth, measuring seven gallons, produced on boiling seven pounds fourteen ounces of saltpetre, and a second experiment gave a ninth part more. This I afterwards saw refined to a high degree of purity; but I conceive that its value would not repay the expense of the process.
In the country of Kattaun, near the head of Urei River, there are large caves (goha) where saltpetre (mesiyu mantah) is extracted from the soil. M. Whalfeldt, a surveyor, visited them in March 1773. He went seven hundred and fortythree feet into one cave before his lights went out due to the damp air. In another cave, he explored six hundred feet and passed through a narrow passage about three feet wide and five feet high, leading to a spacious area forty feet high. The same caves were visited by Mr. Christopher Terry and Mr. Charles Miller. They serve as homes to countless birds, which become more numerous the further you go in. Their nests are built high up in the cave, and it is believed that their droppings create the soil (in many spots four to six feet deep and fifteen to twenty feet wide) that produces the nitre. A cubic foot of this earth, weighing seven gallons, yielded seven pounds and fourteen ounces of saltpetre when boiled, and a second test produced a little more. I later saw this refined to a high level of purity; however, I think its value wouldn't justify the cost of the process.
BIRDS-NEST.
Bird's nest.
The edible birds-nest, so much celebrated as a peculiar luxury of the table, especially amongst the Chinese, is found in similar caves in different parts of the island, but chiefly near the sea-coast, and in the greatest abundance at its southern extremity. Four miles up the river Kroi there is one of considerable size. The birds are called layang-layang, and resemble the common swallow, or perhaps rather the martin. I had an opportunity of giving to the British Museum some of these nests with the eggs in them. They are distinguished into white and black, of which the first are by far the more scarce and valuable, being found in the proportion of one only to twenty-five. The white sort sells in China at the rate of a thousand to fifteen hundred dollars the pikul (according to the Batavian Transactions for nearly its weight in silver), the black is usually disposed of at Batavia at about twenty or thirty dollars for the same weight, where I understand it is chiefly converted into a kind of glue. The difference between the two sorts has by some been supposed to be owing to the mixture of the feathers of the birds with the viscous substance of which the nests are formed; and this they deduce from the experiment of steeping the black nests for a short time in hot water, when they are said to become white to a certain degree. Among the natives I have heard a few assert that they are the work of a different species of bird. It was also suggested to me that the white might probably be the recent nests of the season in which they were taken, and the black such as had been used for several years successively. This opinion appearing plausible, I was particular in my inquiries as to that point, and learned what seems much to corroborate it. When the natives prepare to take the nests they enter the cave with torches, and, forming ladders of bamboos notched according to the usual mode, they ascend and pull down the nests, which adhere in numbers together, from the sides and top of the rock. I was informed that the more regularly the cave is thus stripped the greater proportion of white nests they are sure to find, and that on this experience they often make a practice of beating down and destroying the old nests in larger quantities than they trouble themselves to carry away, in order that they may find white nests the next season in their room. The birds, I am assured, are seen, during the building time, in large flocks upon the beach, collecting in their beaks the foam thrown up by the surf, of which there appears little doubt of their constructing their gelatinous nests, after it has undergone, perhaps, some preparation from commixture with their saliva or other secretion in the beak or the craw; and that this is the received opinion of the natives appears from the bird being very commonly named layang-buhi, the foam-swallow. Linnaeus however has conjectured, and with much plausibility, that it is the animal substance frequently found on the beach which fishermen call blubber or jellies, and not the foam of the sea, that these birds collect; and it is proper to mention that, in a Description of these Nests by M. Hooyman, printed in Volume 3 of the Batavian Transactions, he is decidedly of opinion that the substance of them has nothing to do with the sea-foam but is elaborated from the food of the bird. Mr. John Crisp informed me that he had seen at Padang a common swallow's nest, built under the eaves of a house, which was composed partly of common mud and partly of the substance that constitutes the edible nests. The young birds themselves are said to be very delicate food, and not inferior in richness of flavour to the beccafico.
The edible birds' nest, highly regarded as a unique delicacy, especially among the Chinese, can be found in similar caves across various parts of the island, mainly near the coastline, with the highest concentration at the southern tip. Four miles up the Kroi River, there's a sizable one. The birds are called layang-layang and look like a common swallow, or probably more like a martin. I had a chance to donate some of these nests with the eggs to the British Museum. They come in white and black varieties, with the white being significantly rarer and more valuable, found in a ratio of one to twenty-five. The white ones sell in China for about one thousand to fifteen hundred dollars per pikul (according to the Batavian Transactions, nearly their weight in silver), while the black ones are usually sold in Batavia for about twenty or thirty dollars for the same weight, where I understand they are mainly turned into a type of glue. Some believe the difference between the two types is due to the mixture of bird feathers with the sticky material used to make the nests; they support this claim by steeping the black nests in hot water, which reportedly makes them partially white. Among the locals, I've heard a few say that they are made by a different species of bird. It was also suggested to me that the white nests might be the newer creations of the current season, while the black nests could be older ones used for several consecutive years. This idea seemed plausible, so I asked more about it and learned some information that supports this theory. When locals prepare to collect the nests, they enter the cave with torches, make bamboo ladders notched in the traditional way, and climb up to pull down the nests, which stick together from the sides and top of the rock. I was told that the more systematically they remove from the cave, the greater the number of white nests they are likely to find. Based on this experience, they often intentionally destroy old nests in large quantities rather than carrying them away, hoping to find white nests in their place next season. The birds, I was informed, are seen in large flocks on the beach during nesting season, gathering foam thrown up by the waves, which they are believed to use to construct their gelatinous nests after mixing it with their saliva or other secretions from their beak or throat; this is a commonly accepted belief among the locals, as the bird is often called layang-buhi, or foam-swallow. However, Linnaeus speculated, with considerable reason, that the birds collect an animal substance frequently found on the beach known as blubber or jellies, rather than sea foam. It’s worth mentioning that in a Description of these Nests by M. Hooyman, printed in Volume 3 of the Batavian Transactions, he firmly believes that the material of the nests has nothing to do with sea-foam and is instead made from the bird's food. Mr. John Crisp told me he saw a common swallow's nest at Padang, built under a house's eaves, which was made partly of regular mud and partly of the material used in edible nests. The young birds themselves are considered very delicate and flavorful, comparable in richness to the beccafico.
TRIPAN.
TRIPAN.
The swala, tripan, or sea-slug (holothurion), is likewise an article of trade to Batavia and China, being employed, as birds-nest or vermicelli, for enriching soups and stews, by a luxurious people. It sells at the former place for forty-five dollars per pikul, according to the degree of whiteness and other qualities.
The swala, tripan, or sea-slug (holothurion) is also a trade item for Batavia and China, used similarly to birds' nests or vermicelli to enhance soups and stews by a luxury-loving population. It sells for forty-five dollars per pikul in Batavia, depending on the level of whiteness and other qualities.
WAX.
WAX.
Beeswax is a commodity of great importance in all the eastern islands, from whence it is exported in large oblong cakes to China, Bengal, and other parts of the continent. No pains are taken with the bees, which are left to settle where they list (generally on the boughs of trees) and are never collected in hives. Their honey is much inferior to that of Europe, as might be expected from the nature of the vegetation.
Beeswax is a highly valued product in all the eastern islands, where it is exported in large rectangular blocks to China, Bengal, and other areas of the continent. No effort is made to manage the bees, which are allowed to nest wherever they like (usually on tree branches) and are never gathered into hives. Their honey is much lower in quality compared to that of Europe, which is expected given the type of vegetation.
GUM-LAC.
Gum lac.
Gum-lac, called by the natives ampalu or ambalu, although found upon trees and adhering strongly to the branches, is known to be the work of insects, as wax is of the bee. It is procured in small quantities from the country inland of Bencoolen; but at Padang is a considerable article of trade. Foreign markets however are supplied from the countries of Siam and Camboja. It is chiefly valued in Sumatra for the animal part, found in the nidus of the insect, which is soluble in water, and yields a very fine purple dye, used for colouring their silks and other webs of domestic manufacture. Like the cochineal it would probably, with the addition of a solution of tin, become a good scarlet. I find in a Bisayan dictionary that this substance is employed by the people of the Philippine Islands for staining their teeth red. For an account of the lac insect see in the Philosophical Transactions Volume 71 page 374 a paper by Mr. James Kerr.
Gum-lac, known to locals as ampalu or ambalu, is found on trees where it sticks strongly to the branches and is recognized as an insect product, similar to wax from bees. It is collected in small amounts from the areas inland of Bencoolen, but in Padang, it is a significant commodity for trade. Foreign markets, however, primarily get it from Siam and Cambodia. In Sumatra, it’s especially valued for the animal component found in the insect’s nest, which dissolves in water and produces a high-quality purple dye, used for coloring their silks and other handmade fabrics. Similar to cochineal, it could likely create a good scarlet dye with the addition of a tin solution. I found in a Bisayan dictionary that people in the Philippine Islands use this substance to stain their teeth red. For more information about the lac insect, refer to the Philosophical Transactions Volume 71 page 374, where you can find a paper by Mr. James Kerr.
IVORY.
IVORY.
The forests abounding with elephants, ivory (gading) is consequently found in abundance, and is carried both to the China and Europe markets. The animals themselves were formerly the objects of a considerable traffic from Achin to the coast of Coromandel, or kling country, and vessels were built expressly for their transport; but it has declined, or perhaps ceased altogether, from the change which the system of warfare has undergone, since the European tactics have been imitated by the princes of India.
The forests full of elephants have plenty of ivory, which is traded widely in both the China and Europe markets. These animals used to be a major part of trade from Achin to the coast of Coromandel, or Kling country, and ships were specifically constructed for their transport; however, this trade has declined, or maybe even stopped completely, due to the changes in warfare strategies, as Indian princes have begun to adopt European military tactics.
FISH-ROES.
Fish eggs.
The large roes of a species of fish (said to be like the shad, but more probably of the mullet-kind) taken in great quantities at the mouth of Siak River, are salted and exported from thence to all the Malayan countries, where they are eaten with boiled rice, and esteemed a delicacy. This is the botarga of the Italians, and here called trobo and telur-trobo.
The large eggs of a type of fish (similar to shad, but more likely a type of mullet) are caught in huge amounts at the mouth of the Siak River. They are salted and shipped to various countries in Malaysia, where they are served with boiled rice and considered a delicacy. This is known as botarga in Italy, and here it is called trobo and telur-trobo.
IMPORT-TRADE.
Import Trade.
The most general articles of import-trade are the following:
The most common items in international trade are these:
From the coast of Coromandel various cotton goods, as long-cloth, blue and white, chintz, and coloured handkerchiefs, of which those manufactured at Pulicat are the most prized; and salt.
From the coast of Coromandel, there are various cotton goods, like long cloth, blue and white fabrics, chintz, and colored handkerchiefs, with those made in Pulicat being the most valued; and salt.
From Bengal muslins, striped and plain, and several other kinds of cotton goods, as cossaes, baftaes, hummums, etc., taffetas and some other silks; and opium in considerable quantities.
From Bengal muslins, both striped and plain, along with various types of cotton fabrics like cossaes, baftaes, hummums, etc., taffetas, and some other silks; and a significant amount of opium.
From the Malabar coast various cotton goods, mostly of a coarse raw fabric.
From the Malabar coast, there are various cotton products, mostly made of rough raw fabric.
From China coarse porcelain, kwalis or iron pans, in sets of various sizes, tobacco shred very fine, gold thread, fans, and a number of small articles.
From China, coarse porcelain, kwalis or iron pans, in sets of various sizes, very fine tobacco shred, gold thread, fans, and a number of small items.
From Celebes (known here by the names of its chief provinces, Mangkasar, Bugis, and Mandar), Java, Balli, Ceram, and other eastern islands, the rough, striped cotton cloth called kain-sarong, or vulgarly bugis-clouting, being the universal body-dress of the natives; krises and other weapons, silken kris-belts, tudongs or hats, small pieces of ordnance, commonly of brass, called rantaka, spices, and also salt of a large grain, and sometimes rice, chiefly from Balli.
From Celebes (known here by the names of its main provinces, Mangkasar, Bugis, and Mandar), Java, Bali, Ceram, and other eastern islands, the rough, striped cotton cloth called kain-sarong, or commonly bugis-clouting, is the standard clothing of the locals; krises and other weapons, silk kris-belts, tudongs or hats, small brass cannons called rantaka, spices, and also large-grain salt, and sometimes rice, mainly from Bali.
From Europe silver, iron, steel, lead, cutlery, various sorts of hardware, brass wire, and broadcloths, especially scarlet.
From Europe: silver, iron, steel, lead, cutlery, different kinds of hardware, brass wire, and broadcloths, especially in scarlet.
It is not within my plan to enlarge on this subject by entering into a detail of the markets for, or prices of, the several articles, which are extremely fluctuating, according to the more or less abundant or scanty supply. Most of the kinds of goods above enumerated are incidentally mentioned in other parts of the work, as they happen to be connected with the account of the natives who purchase them.
It’s not my intention to expand on this topic by going into details about the markets for, or prices of, the various items, which fluctuate greatly depending on whether the supply is abundant or scarce. Most of the types of goods listed above are mentioned elsewhere in the text, as they relate to the description of the locals who buy them.
CHAPTER 9.
ARTS AND MANUFACTURES.
ART OF MEDICINE.
SCIENCES.
ARITHMETIC
.
GEOGRAPHY.
ASTRONOMY.
MUSIC, ETC.
ARTS AND MANUFACTURING.
MEDICAL SCIENCE.
SCIENTIFIC DISCIPLINES.
MATHEMATICS
.
GEOGRAPHY.
ASTRONOMY.
MUSIC, ETC.
ARTS AND MANUFACTURES.
Arts and Crafts.
I shall now take a view of those arts and manufactures which the Sumatrans are skilled in, and which are not merely domestic but contribute rather to the conveniences, and in some instances to the luxuries, than to the necessaries of life. I must remind the reader that my observations on this subject are mostly drawn from the Rejangs, or those people of the island who are upon their level of improvement. We meet with accounts in old writers of great foundries of cannon in the dominion of Achin, and it is certain that firearms as well as krises are at this day manufactured in the country of Menangkabau; but my present description does not go to these superior exertions of art, which certainly do not appear among those people of the island whose manners, more immediately, I am attempting to delineate.
I will now look at the arts and crafts that the Sumatrans are skilled in, which are not just for everyday use but also add to comfort and, in some cases, luxury, rather than just fulfilling basic needs. I want to remind the reader that my observations on this topic mainly come from the Rejangs, or those people of the island who are at a similar level of development. Old writings mention large cannon foundries in the Achin region, and it's known that firearms and krises are still made in the Menangkabau area today; however, my current description doesn’t focus on these advanced artistic efforts, which definitely aren’t representative of the customs of the islanders whose lifestyles I am trying to describe.
FILIGREE.
Filigree.
What follows, however, would seem an exception to this limitation; there being no manufacture in that part of the world, and perhaps I might be justified in saying, in any part of the world, that has been more admired and celebrated than the fine gold and silver filigree of Sumatra. This indeed is, strictly speaking, the work of the Malayan inhabitants; but as it is in universal use and wear throughout the country, and as the goldsmiths are settled everywhere along the coast, I cannot be guilty of much irregularity in describing here the process of their art.
What follows, however, seems to be an exception to this limitation; there’s no manufacturing in that part of the world, and maybe I can say, in any part of the world, that has been more admired and celebrated than the fine gold and silver filigree of Sumatra. This is, strictly speaking, the work of the Malayan people; but since it is universally used and worn throughout the country, and because goldsmiths are established along the coast, I can’t be too out of line in describing the process of their art here.
MODE OF WORKING IT.
WORKING METHOD.
There is no circumstance that renders the filigree a matter of greater curiosity than the coarseness of the tools employed in the workmanship, and which, in the hands of a European, would not be thought sufficiently perfect for the most ordinary purposes. They are rudely and inartificially formed by the goldsmith (pandei) from any old iron he can procure. When you engage one of them to execute a piece of work his first request is usually for a piece of iron hoop to make his wire-drawing instrument; an old hammer head, stuck in a block, serves for an anvil; and I have seen a pair of compasses composed of two old nails tied together at one end. The gold is melted in a piece of a priuk or earthen rice-pot, or sometimes in a crucible of their own making, of common clay. In general they use no bellows but blow the fire with their mouths through a joint of bamboo, and if the quantity of metal to be melted is considerable three or four persons sit round their furnace, which is an old broken kwali or iron pot, and blow together. At Padang alone, where the manufacture is more considerable, they have adopted the Chinese bellows. Their method of drawing the wire differs but little from that used by European workmen. When drawn to a sufficient fineness they flatten it by beating it on their anvil; and when flattened they give it a twist like that in the whalebone handle of a punch-ladle, by rubbing it on a block of wood with a flat stick. After twisting they again beat it on the anvil, and by these means it becomes flat wire with indented edges. With a pair of nippers they fold down the end of the wire, and thus form a leaf or element of a flower in their work, which is cut off. The end is again folded and cut off till they have got a sufficient number of leaves, which are all laid on singly. Patterns of the flowers or foliage, in which there is not very much variety, are prepared on paper, of the size of the gold plate on which the filigree is to be laid. According to this they begin to dispose on the plate the larger compartments of the foliage, for which they use plain flat wire of a larger size, and fill them up with the leaves before mentioned. To fix their work they employ a glutinous substance made of the small red pea with a black spot before mentioned, ground to a pulp on a rough stone. This pulp they place on a young coconut about the size of a walnut, the top and bottom being cut off. I at first imagined that caprice alone might have directed them to the use of the coconut for this purpose; but I have since reflected on the probability of the juice of the young fruit being necessary to keep the pulp moist, which would otherwise speedily become dry and unfit for the work. After the leaves have been all placed in order and stuck on, bit by bit, a solder is prepared of gold filings and borax, moistened with water, which they strew or daub over the plate with a feather, and then putting it in the fire for a short time the whole becomes united. This kind of work on a gold plate they call karrang papan: when the work is open, they call it karrang trus. In executing the latter the foliage is laid out on a card, or soft kind of wood covered with paper, and stuck on, as before described, with the paste of the red seed; and the work, when finished, being strewed over with their solder, is put into the fire, when, the card or soft wood burning away, the gold remains connected. The greatest skill and attention is required in this operation as the work is often made to run by remaining too long or in too hot a fire. If the piece be large they solder it at several times. When the work is finished they give it that fine high colour they so much admire by an operation which they term sapoh. This consists in mixing nitre, common salt, and alum, reduced to powder and moistened, laying the composition on the filigree and keeping it over a moderate fire until it dissolves and becomes yellow. In this situation the piece is kept for a longer or shorter time according to the intensity of colour they wish the gold to receive. It is then thrown into water and cleansed. In the manufacture of baju buttons they first make the lower part flat, and, having a mould formed of a piece of buffalo's horn, indented to several sizes, each like one half of a bullet mould, they lay their work over one of these holes, and with a horn punch they press it into the form of the button. After this they complete the upper part. The manner of making the little balls with which their works are sometimes ornamented is as follows. They take a piece of charcoal, and, having cut it flat and smooth, they make in it a small hole, which they fill with gold dust, and this melted in the fire becomes a little ball. They are very inexpert at finishing and polishing the plain parts, hinges, screws, and the like, being in this as much excelled by the European artists as these fall short of them in the fineness and minuteness of the foliage. The Chinese also make filigree, mostly of silver, which looks elegant, but wants likewise the extraordinary delicacy of the Malayan work. The price of the workmanship depends upon the difficulty or novelty of the pattern. In some articles of usual demand it does not exceed one-third of the value of the gold; but, in matters of fancy, it is generally equal to it. The manufacture is not now (1780) held in very high estimation in England, where costliness is not so much the object of luxury as variety; but, in the revolution of taste, it may probably be again sought after and admired as fashionable.
There’s no situation that makes filigree more intriguing than the roughness of the tools used in its creation, which, in the hands of a European, would seem inadequate for even the most basic tasks. The goldsmith (pandei) creates these tools crudely from any old iron he can find. When you ask one of them to do a piece of work, his first request is usually for a piece of an iron hoop to make his wire-drawing tool; an old hammer head stuck in a block acts as an anvil, and I’ve seen a pair of compasses made from two old nails tied together at one end. The gold is melted in a piece of a priuk or earthen rice pot, or sometimes in a makeshift crucible made of common clay. Generally, they don’t use bellows but instead blow air into the fire with their mouths through a piece of bamboo; if there's a large amount of metal to melt, three or four people sit around their furnace, which is an old, broken kwali or iron pot, and blow together. In Padang, where the production is larger, they’ve adopted Chinese bellows. Their method of drawing wire isn’t much different from that used by European artisans. Once it’s drawn to a fine enough thickness, they flatten it by hammering it on their anvil; then, they twist it like the handle of a whalebone punch ladle by rubbing it on a wooden block with a flat stick. After twisting, they beat it again on the anvil, creating flat wire with indented edges. They use a pair of nippers to fold down the end of the wire, forming a leaf or petal for their design, which is then cut off. The end is folded and cut again until they have enough leaves, which they lay out one by one. Patterns for the flowers or foliage, which don’t vary much, are prepared on paper the size of the gold plate where the filigree will be placed. Based on this, they start arranging the larger sections of foliage on the plate, using plain flat wire of a larger size, filling them with the previously mentioned leaves. To secure their work, they use a sticky substance made from the small red pea with a black spot, ground to a pulp on rough stone. This pulp is placed on a young coconut, cut at the top and bottom to the size of a walnut. Initially, I thought they chose the coconut for no particular reason, but I realized the juice from the young fruit is likely needed to keep the pulp moist, preventing it from drying out too quickly. After all the leaves are arranged and glued on bit by bit, they prepare a solder of gold filings and borax mixed with water, applying it over the plate with a feather before placing it in the fire for a short time, which unites everything. This type of work on a gold plate is called karrang papan; when it’s open, it’s referred to as karrang trus. For the latter, the foliage is laid out on a card or soft wood covered with paper, glued on with the red seed paste, and once finished, they sprinkle their solder over it and burn it in the fire, causing the card or soft wood to burn away and leaving the gold connected. This process requires great skill and attention, as the work can easily run if left in the fire for too long or in temperatures that are too high. If the piece is large, they solder it in stages. When finished, they achieve the vibrant, bright color they admire by a process they call sapoh. This involves mixing nitre, common salt, and alum into a powder, moistening it, and applying this mixture to the filigree while heating it over a gentle fire until it dissolves and turns yellow. The duration of this process depends on how deep a color they want the gold to have. After that, the piece is thrown into water and cleaned. In making baju buttons, they first flatten the lower part and use a mold made from a piece of buffalo horn, indented in various sizes, like half of a bullet mold, placing their work over one of these holes and pressing it into the shape of the button with a horn punch. After this, they finish the upper part. To create the small balls that sometimes adorn their work, they cut a piece of charcoal flat and smooth, making a small hole filled with gold dust, which, when melted in the fire, becomes a small ball. They are not very skilled at finishing and polishing the plain parts, hinges, screws, and similar details, where European artists surpass them, just as they excel in the delicacy and intricacy of the foliage. The Chinese also make filigree, mostly in silver, that looks elegant but lacks the extraordinary finesse of Malay work. The price of the craftsmanship depends on the complexity or uniqueness of the design. For some commonly demanded items, the price does not exceed one-third of the value of the gold; for more ornamental items, it typically equals the gold's value. As of now (1780), this craftsmanship isn’t highly regarded in England, where luxury is valued more for its variety than expense; however, tastes may change, and it could be sought after and appreciated as fashionable again.
IRON MANUFACTURES.
Iron Production.
But little skill is shown amongst the country people in forging iron. They make nails however, though not much used by them in building, wooden pins being generally substituted; also various kinds of tools, as the prang or bill, the banchi, rembe, billiong, and papatil, which are different species of adzes, the kapak or axe, and the pungkur or hoe. Their fire is made with charcoal; the fossil coal which the country produces being rarely, if ever, employed, except by the Europeans; and not by them of late years, on the complaint of its burning away too quickly: yet the report made of it in 1719 was that it gave a surer heat than the coal from England. The bed of it (described rather as a large rock above ground) lies four days' journey up Bencoolen River, from whence quantities are washed down by the floods. The quality of coal is rarely good near the surface. Their bellows are thus constructed: two bamboos, of about four inches diameter and five feet in length, stand perpendicularly near the fire, open at the upper end and stopped below. About an inch or two from the bottom a small joint of bamboo is inserted into each, which serve as nozzles, pointing to, and meeting at, the fire. To produce a stream of air bunches of feathers or other soft substance, being fastened to long handles, are worked up and down in the upright tubes, like the piston of a pump. These, when pushed downwards, force the air through the small horizontal tubes, and, by raising and sinking each alternately, a continual current or blast is kept up; for which purpose a boy is usually placed on a high seat or stand. I cannot retrain from remarking that the description of the bellows used in Madagascar, as given by Sonnerat, Volume 2 page 60, so entirely corresponds with this that the one might almost pass for a copy of the other.
But the local people have little skill when it comes to forging iron. They do make nails, although they don't use them much in construction since wooden pegs are generally preferred. They also create various kinds of tools, like the prang or bill, the banchi, rembe, billiong, and papatil, which are different types of adzes, as well as the kapak or axe, and the pungkur or hoe. They use charcoal for their fire, while the fossil coal found in the area is rarely used, if ever, except by Europeans, who have stopped using it in recent years due to complaints that it burns away too quickly. However, a report from 1719 stated that it provided a more consistent heat than the coal from England. The coal deposit (described as a large rock above ground) is located a four-day journey up the Bencoolen River, from where large amounts are washed down by floods. The quality of coal near the surface is often poor. Their bellows are made like this: two bamboo tubes, about four inches in diameter and five feet long, stand upright near the fire, open at the top and closed at the bottom. About an inch or two from the bottom, a small piece of bamboo is inserted into each tube, acting as nozzles that point towards the fire. To create a stream of air, bunches of feathers or other soft materials attached to long handles are pushed up and down in the upright tubes, similar to a pump piston. When the handles are pushed down, they force air through the small horizontal tubes, and by alternating the raising and lowering of each tube, a continuous current or blast is maintained; usually, a boy is placed on a high seat or stand to operate this. I can't help but point out that the description of the bellows used in Madagascar, as given by Sonnerat in Volume 2, page 60, is so similar to this that one could easily mistake one for a copy of the other.
CARPENTER'S WORK.
Carpenter's job.
The progress they have made in carpenter's work has been already pointed out, where there buildings were described.
The progress they've made in carpentry has already been noted, where their buildings were described.
TOOLS.
Tools.
They are ignorant of the use of the saw, excepting where we have introduced it among them. Trees are felled by chopping at the stems, and in procuring boards they are confined to those the direction of whose grain or other qualities admit of their being easily split asunder. In this respect the species called maranti and marakuli have the preference. The tree, being stripped of its branches and its bark, is cut to the length required, and by the help of wedges split into boards. These being of irregular thickness are usually dubbed upon the spot. The tool used for this purpose is the rembe, a kind of adze. Most of their smaller work, and particularly on the bamboo, is performed with the papatil, which resembles in shape as much as in name the patupatu of the New Zealanders, but has the vast superiority of being made of iron. The blade, which is fastened to the handle with a nice and curious kind of rattan-work, is so contrived as to turn in it, and by that means can be employed either as an adze or small hatchet. Their houses are generally built with the assistance of this simple instrument alone. The billiong is no other than a large papatil, with a handle of two or three feet in length, turning, like that, in its socket.
They don't know how to use a saw, except for where we've shown it to them. Trees are cut down by chopping at the trunks, and when they want boards, they can only use those whose grain or other features allow them to be easily split apart. The types of wood called maranti and marakuli are preferred for this. After the tree is stripped of its branches and bark, it's cut to the needed length and split into boards with the help of wedges. These boards are usually irregular in thickness and are often shaped on-site. The tool used for this is called a rembe, which is a type of adze. Most of their smaller work, especially with bamboo, is done with the papatil, which looks like the patupatu of the New Zealanders but has the huge advantage of being made of iron. The blade is attached to the handle with a nice and intricate kind of rattan work, allowing it to pivot, so it can be used as either an adze or a small hatchet. They generally build their houses using just this simple tool. The billiong is essentially a large papatil, with a handle that’s two or three feet long and also pivots in its socket.
CEMENTS.
Cements.
The chief cement they employ for small work is the curd of buffalomilk, called prakat. It is to be observed that butter is made (for the use of Europeans only; the words used by the Malays, for butter and cheese, monteiga and queijo, being pure Portuguese) not as with us, by churning, but by letting the milk stand till the butter forms of itself on the top. It is then taken off with a spoon, stirred about with the same in a flat vessel, and well washed in two or three waters. The thick sour milk left at the bottom, when the butter or cream is removed, is the curd here meant. This must be well squeezed, formed into cakes, and left to dry, when it will grow nearly as hard as flint. For use you must scrape some of it off, mix it with quick lime, and moisten it with milk. I think there is no stronger cement in the world, and it is found to hold, particularly in a hot and damp climate, much better than glue; proving also effectual in mending chinaware. The viscous juice of the saga-pea (abrus) is likewise used in the country as a cement.
The main glue they use for small jobs is the curd from buffalo milk, known as prakat. It's important to note that butter is made (only for European use; the Malay words for butter and cheese, monteiga and queijo, are pure Portuguese) not by churning like we do, but by letting the milk sit until the butter rises to the top on its own. Then, it’s scooped off with a spoon, mixed around in a flat container, and thoroughly washed in two or three waters. The thick sour milk that remains at the bottom, after the butter or cream is removed, is the curd in question. This needs to be well-squeezed, shaped into cakes, and left to dry until it becomes almost as hard as flint. For use, you should scrape some off, mix it with quick lime, and moisten it with milk. I believe there’s no stronger glue anywhere, and it holds up much better than glue, especially in a hot and humid climate; it’s also effective for repairing china. The sticky juice from the saga-pea (abrus) is also used in the country as a glue.
INK.
Ink.
Ink is made by mixing lamp-black with the white of egg. To procure the former they suspend over a burning lamp an earthen pot, the bottom of which is moistened, in order to make the soot adhere to it.
Ink is made by mixing lampblack with egg white. To obtain the lampblack, they hang an earthen pot over a burning lamp, with the bottom of the pot kept damp to help the soot stick to it.
DESIGNING.
Designing.
Painting and drawing they are quite strangers to. In carving, both in wood and ivory, they are curious and fanciful, but their designs are always grotesque and out of nature. The handles of the krises are the most common subjects of their ingenuity in this art, which usually exhibit the head and beak of a bird, with the folded arms of a human creature, not unlike the representation of one of the Egyptian deities. In cane and basketwork they are particularly neat and expert; as well as in mats, of which some kinds are much prized for their extreme fineness and ornamental borders.
Painting and drawing are pretty foreign to them. In carving, both wood and ivory, they are imaginative and creative, but their designs are often weird and unnatural. The handles of the krises are the most common subjects of their creativity in this art, usually showing the head and beak of a bird, along with the folded arms of a human, similar to how some Egyptian deities are depicted. They are especially skilled and meticulous in cane and basket weaving, as well as in making mats, some of which are highly valued for their exceptional fine quality and decorative borders.
LOOMS.
LOOMS.
Silk and cotton cloths, of varied colours, manufactured by themselves, are worn by the natives in all parts of the country; especially by the women. Some of their work is very fine, and the patterns prettily fancied. Their loom or apparatus for weaving (tunun) is extremely defective, and renders their progress tedious. One end of the warp being made fast to a frame, the whole is kept tight, and the web stretched out by means of a species of yoke, which is fastened behind the body, when the person weaving sits down. Every second of the longitudinal threads, or warp, passes separately through a set of reeds, like the teeth of a comb, and the alternate ones through another set. These cross each other, up and down, to admit the woof, not from the extremities, as in our looms, nor effected by the feet, but by turning edgeways two flat sticks which pass between them. The shuttle (turak) is a hollow reed about sixteen inches long, generally ornamented on the outside, and closed at one end, having in it a small bit of stick, on which is rolled the woof or shoot. The silk cloths have usually a gold head. They use sometimes another kind of loom, still more simple than this, being no more than a frame in which the warp is fixed, and the woof darned with a long small-pointed shuttle. For spinning the cotton they make use of a machine very like ours. The women are expert at embroidery, the gold and silver thread for which is procured from China, as well as their needles. For common work their thread is the pulas before mentioned, or else filaments of the pisang (musa).
Silk and cotton fabrics, in various colors and made by the locals, are worn throughout the country, especially by women. Some of their creations are finely crafted, with beautifully imagined patterns. Their loom for weaving (tunun) is quite basic, making the process slow. One end of the warp is secured to a frame to keep it taut, and the fabric is stretched using a type of yoke attached behind the weaver when they sit down. Every second strand of the warp goes through a set of reeds, similar to a comb’s teeth, while the alternating ones go through another set. These threads cross each other vertically to allow the weft to be introduced, not from the ends like in our looms, nor controlled by the feet, but by turning two flat sticks sideways that fit between them. The shuttle (turak) is a hollow reed about sixteen inches long, usually decorated on the outside and closed at one end, containing a small stick around which the weft is wrapped. Silk fabrics often feature a gold edge. They sometimes use an even simpler loom, which is just a frame where the warp is set and the weft is woven using a long, pointed shuttle. For spinning cotton, they use a device quite similar to ours. The women are skilled at embroidery, often using gold and silver thread sourced from China, along with their needles. For regular sewing, they use the previously mentioned pulas thread or fibers from the pisang (musa).
EARTHENWARE.
Ceramics.
Different kinds of earthenware, I have elsewhere observed, are manufactured in the island.
Different types of earthenware, as I've noted elsewhere, are made on the island.
PERFUMES.
Fragrances.
They have a practice of perfuming their hair with oil of benzoin, which they distil themselves from the gum by a process doubtless of their own invention. In procuring it a priuk, or earthen rice-pot, covered close, is used for a retort. A small bamboo is inserted in the side of the vessel, and well luted with clay and ashes, from which the oil drops as it comes over. Along with the benzoin they put into the retort a mixture of sugar-cane and other articles that contribute little or nothing to the quantity or quality of the distillation; but no liquid is added. This oil is valued among them at a high price, and can only be used by the superior rank of people.
They have a tradition of scenting their hair with benzoin oil, which they distill themselves from the gum, likely through a method of their own design. To make it, they use a covered earthen rice pot as a retort. A small bamboo pipe is inserted into the side of the pot and sealed with clay and ashes, allowing the oil to drip out as it distills. Along with the benzoin, they add a mix of sugarcane and other ingredients that don’t really affect the quantity or quality of the distillation; however, no liquid is included. This oil is highly valued among them and is only used by people of higher social standing.
OIL.
Oil.
The oil in general use is that of the coconut, which is procured in the following manner. The fleshy part being scraped out of the nut, which for this use must be old, is exposed for some time to the heat of the sun. It is then put into a mat bag and placed in the press (kampahan) between two sloping timbers, which are fixed together in a socket in the lower part of the frame, and forced towards each other by wedges in a groove at top, compressing by this means the pulp of the nut, which yields an oil that falls into a trough made for its reception below. In the farther parts of the country this oil also, owing to the scarcity of coconuts, is dear; and not so much used for burning as that from other vegetables, and the dammar or rosin, which is always at hand.
The commonly used oil is coconut oil, which is obtained in the following way. First, the flesh is scraped out from the nut, which needs to be mature for this purpose, and then it's left out in the sun for a while. Next, it’s placed in a mat bag and put into a press (kampahan) between two slanted wooden beams that are held together at the bottom of the frame. The beams are pushed closer together using wedges at the top, pressing down on the nut pulp, which releases oil that collects in a trough below. In more remote areas, this oil is also expensive due to the scarcity of coconuts and is not used as much for lighting as oils from other plants, along with dammar or rosin, which are readily available.
TORCHES.
Flashlights.
When travelling at night they make use of torches or links, called suluh, the common sort of which are nothing more than dried bamboos of a convenient length, beaten at the joints till split in every part, without the addition of any resinous or other inflammable substance. A superior kind is made by filling with dammar a young bamboo, about a cubit long, well dried, and having the outer skin taken off.
When traveling at night, they use torches or links called suluh. The common type is just dried bamboo of a convenient length, which is beaten at the joints until it splits in several places, without any resinous or other flammable substances added. A better version is made by filling a young bamboo, about a foot long, that has been well dried and had its outer skin removed, with dammar.
These torches are carried with a view, chiefly, to frighten away the tigers, which are alarmed at the appearance of fire; and for the same reason it is common to make a blaze with wood in different parts round their villages. The tigers prove to the inhabitants, both in their journeys and even their domestic occupations, most fatal and destructive enemies. The number of people annually slain by these rapacious tyrants of the woods is almost incredible. I have known instances of whole villages being depopulated by them. Yet, from a superstitious prejudice, it is with difficulty they are prevailed upon, by a large reward which the India Company offers, to use methods of destroying them till they have sustained some particular injury in their own family or kindred, and their ideas of fatalism contribute to render them insensible to the risk.
These torches are carried mainly to scare away the tigers, which are frightened by the sight of fire. For the same reason, it's common to create a blaze with wood in different areas around their villages. The tigers are incredibly fatal and destructive enemies to the people, both during their travels and in their daily activities. The number of people killed by these ruthless rulers of the jungle each year is almost unbelievable. I've heard of entire villages being wiped out by them. Yet, due to a superstitious belief, it’s difficult to convince them to use methods to get rid of the tigers, even when the India Company offers a large reward, until they've personally experienced a tragedy in their own family. Their beliefs in fatalism also make them indifferent to the dangers.
TIGER-TRAPS.
TIGER TRAPS.
Their traps, of which they can make variety, are very ingeniously contrived. Sometimes they are in the nature of strong cages, with falling doors, into which the beast is enticed by a goat or dog enclosed as a bait; sometimes they manage that a large timber shall fall, in a groove, across his back; he is noosed about the loins with strong rattans, or he is led to ascend a plank, nearly balanced, which, turning when he is past the centre, lets him fall upon sharp stakes prepared below. Instances have occurred of a tiger being caught by one of the former modes, which had many marks in his body of the partial success of this last expedient. The escapes, at times, made from them by the natives are surprising, but these accounts in general carry too romantic an air to admit of being repeated as facts. The size and strength of the species which prevails on this island are prodigious. They are said to break with a stroke of their forepaw the leg of a horse or a buffalo; and the largest prey they kill is without difficulty dragged by them into the woods. This they usually perform on the second night, being supposed, on the first, to gratify themselves with sucking the blood only. Time is by this delay afforded to prepare for their destruction; and to the methods already enumerated, beside shooting them, I should add that of placing a vessel of water, strongly impregnated with arsenic, near the carcase, which is fastened to a tree to prevent its being carried off: The tiger having satiated himself with the flesh, is prompted to assuage his thirst with the tempting liquor at hand, and perishes in the indulgence. Their chief subsistence is most probably the unfortunate monkeys with which the woods abound. They are described as alluring them to their fate, by a fascinating power, similar to what has been supposed of the snake, and I am not incredulous enough to treat the idea with contempt, having myself observed that when an alligator, in a river, comes under an overhanging bough of a tree, the monkeys, in a state of alarm and distraction, crowd to the extremity, and, chattering and trembling, approach nearer and nearer to the amphibious monster that waits to devour them as they drop, which their fright and number renders almost unavoidable. These alligators likewise occasion the loss of many inhabitants, frequently destroying the people as they bathe in the river, according to their regular custom, and which the perpetual evidence of the risk attending it cannot deter them from. A superstitious idea of their sanctity also (or, perhaps, of consanguinity, as related in the journal of the Endeavour's voyage) preserves these destructive animals from molestation, although, with a hook of sufficient strength, they may be taken without much difficulty. A musket-ball appears to have no effect upon their impenetrable hides.
Their traps, which they design in various ways, are very cleverly made. Sometimes they use strong cages with falling doors, luring the animal inside with a goat or dog used as bait; other times, they set up a large piece of wood to drop across the animal’s back. It’s either ensnared around the waist with strong vines or led to climb a nearly balanced plank, which tips when it goes past the center, causing the animal to fall onto sharp stakes set below. There have been cases of a tiger being caught using one of the first methods, leaving many marks on its body from the partial success of the last technique. The escapes made by the locals are astonishing at times, but these stories often sound too far-fetched to be taken as facts. The size and strength of the species that dominates this island are impressive. They are said to be able to break a horse's or buffalo's leg with a single swipe of their forepaw; and they can drag their largest prey into the woods without difficulty. Typically, they do this on the second night since it is believed they spend the first night simply drinking the blood. This delay gives time to prepare for their elimination; in addition to the previously mentioned methods, like shooting, I would also suggest placing a container of water, heavily laced with arsenic, near the carcass, which is tied to a tree to stop it from being taken away: Once the tiger has fed, it will likely drink from the enticing poison nearby and die from it. Their primary food source is likely the unfortunate monkeys that are plentiful in the woods. They are said to lure these monkeys to their doom with a mesmerizing power, much like what has been attributed to snakes; I can’t dismiss this idea, as I’ve seen how when an alligator swims under a tree branch, the monkeys, in a panic, crowd to the end of the branch, chattering and trembling, moving closer and closer to the waiting monster that will devour them as they fall, which their fear and numbers make nearly inevitable. These alligators also cause many deaths, often attacking people when they are bathing in the river, a practice they continue despite the constant dangers. A superstitious belief in their sacredness (or perhaps a sense of kinship, as noted in the journal of the Endeavour's voyage) keeps these dangerous animals from being disturbed, although they can be captured without too much trouble using a sufficiently strong hook. A musket-ball seems to have no effect on their tough hides.
FISHING.
Fishing.
Besides the common methods of taking fish, of which the seas that wash the coasts of Sumatra afford an extraordinary variety and abundance, the natives employ a mode, unpractised, I apprehend, in any part of Europe. They steep the root of a certain climbing plant, called tuba, of strong narcotic qualities, in the water where the fish are observed, which produces such an effect that they become intoxicated and to appearance dead, float on the surface of the water, and are taken with the hand. This is generally made use of in the basins of water formed by the ledges of coral rock which, having no outlet, are left full when the tide has ebbed.* In the manufacture and employment of the casting-net they are particularly expert, and scarcely a family near the sea-coast is without one. To supply this demand great quantities of the pulas twine are brought down from the hill-country to be there worked up; and in this article we have an opportunity of observing the effect of that conformation which renders the handiwork of orientals (unassisted by machinery) so much more delicate than that of the western people. Mr. Crisp possessed a net of silk, made in the country behind Padang, the meshes of which were no wider than a small fingernail, that opened sixteen feet in diameter. With such they are said to catch small fish in the extensive lake situated on the borders of Menangkabau.
Besides the common ways of catching fish, which the seas around Sumatra provide in great variety and abundance, the locals use a method that I believe is not practiced anywhere in Europe. They soak the root of a climbing plant called tuba, known for its strong narcotic effects, in the water where they see fish. This causes the fish to become intoxicated and seem dead, allowing them to float to the surface where they can be easily collected by hand. This technique is usually used in water basins formed by coral rock ledges, which remain filled when the tide goes out. They are particularly skilled at making and using casting nets, and almost every family along the coast has one. To meet this demand, large amounts of pulas twine are brought down from the hills to be made into nets. In this, we can see how the craftsmanship of Orientals, without the aid of machinery, is often much more refined than that of Westerners. Mr. Crisp had a silk net made in the region behind Padang, with meshes no wider than a small fingernail, spanning sixteen feet in diameter. It is said that they use this net to catch small fish in the large lake on the borders of Menangkabau.
(*Footnote. In Captain Cook's second voyage is a plate representing a plant used for the same purpose at Otaheite, which is the exact delineation of one whose appearance I was well acquainted with in Sumatra, and which abounds in many parts of the sea-beach, but which is a different plant from the tuba-akar, but may be another kind, named tuba-biji. In South America also, we are informed, the inhabitants procure fish after this extraordinary manner, employing three different kinds of plants; but whether any of them be the same with that of Otaheite or Sumatra I am ignorant. I have lately been informed that this practice is not unknown in England, but has been prohibited. It is termed foxing: the drug made use of was the Coculus indicus.)
(*Footnote. In Captain Cook's second voyage, there's a illustration of a plant used for the same purpose in Otaheite, which closely resembles one I recognized well from Sumatra, found abundantly along various parts of the seashore. However, it is a different plant from the tuba-akar, possibly another type called tuba-biji. We also learn that in South America, the locals catch fish using this unusual method, utilizing three different types of plants; though I'm not sure if any of them are the same as those from Otaheite or Sumatra. I have recently been informed that this practice is known in England, but it is banned. It is called foxing, and the substance used was Coculus indicus.)
BIRD-CATCHING.
Birdwatching.
Birds, particularly the plover (cheruling) and quails (puyu) are caught by snares or springs laid for them in the grass. These are of iju, which resembles horsehair, many fathoms in length, and disposed in such a manner as to entangle their feet; for which purpose they are gently driven towards the snares. In some parts of the country they make use of clasp-nets. I never observed a Sumatran to fire a shot at a bird, though many of them, as well as the more eastern people, have a remarkably fine aim; but the mode of letting off the matchlocks, which are the pieces most habitual to them, precludes the possibility of shooting flying.
Birds, especially the plover (cheruling) and quails (puyu), are caught using snares or traps set in the grass. These traps are made of iju, which is similar to horsehair, and can be many lengths long, arranged to tangle the birds' feet. To catch them, hunters gently drive the birds toward the snares. In some regions, they use clasp nets instead. I've never seen a Sumatran shoot at a bird, even though many of them, like other people from the east, have really good aim. However, the way they handle matchlocks, which are their usual firearms, makes it impossible to shoot at flying birds.
GUNPOWDER.
Gunpowder.
Gunpowder is manufactured in various parts of the island, but less in the southern provinces than amongst the people of Menangkabau, the Battas, and Achinese, whose frequent wars demand large supplies. It appears however, by an agreement upon record, formed in 1728, that the inhabitants of Anak-sungei were restricted from the manufacture, which they are stated to have carried to a considerable extent. It is made, as with us, of proportions of charcoal, sulphur, and nitre, but the composition is very imperfectly granulated, being often hastily prepared in small quantities for immediate use. The last article, though found in the greatest quantity in the saltpetre-caves before spoken of, is most commonly procured from goat's dung, which is always to be had in plenty.
Gunpowder is made in various parts of the island, but it's produced less in the southern provinces compared to the people of Menangkabau, the Battas, and Achinese, whose frequent wars require large amounts. However, an agreement recorded in 1728 indicates that the residents of Anak-sungei were limited in their production, which they had been doing quite extensively. It's made, like it is here, from a mix of charcoal, sulfur, and saltpeter, but the mixture is usually very poorly granulated, often prepared quickly in small batches for immediate use. The last ingredient, although found in large quantities in the previously mentioned saltpeter caves, is most often obtained from goat's dung, which is always readily available.
SUGAR.
Sugar.
Sugar (as has already been observed) is commonly made for domestic use from the juice of a species of palm, boiled till a consistence is formed, but scarcely at all granulated, being little more than a thick syrup. This spread upon leaves to dry, made into cakes, and afterwards folded up in a peculiar vegetable substance called upih, which is the sheath that envelopes the branch of the pinang tree where it is inserted in the stem. In this state it is called jaggri, and, beside its ordinary uses as sugar, it is mixed with chunam in making cement for buildings, and that exquisite plaster for walls which, on the coast of Coromandel, equals Parian marble in whiteness and polish. But in many parts of the island sugar is also made from the sugar-cane. The rollers of the mill used for this purpose are worked by the endless screw instead of cogs, and are turned with the hand by means of a bar passing through one of the rollers which is higher than the other. As an article of traffic amongst the natives it is not considerable, nor have they the art of distilling arrack, the basis of which is molasses, along with the juice of the anau or of the coconut palm in a state of fermentation. Both however are manufactured by Europeans.*
Sugar is commonly made for home use from the juice of a type of palm, boiled until it reaches a thick syrup-like consistency, but is rarely granulated. It's spread on leaves to dry, shaped into cakes, and then wrapped in a special plant material called upih, which is the sheath that covers the branch of the pinang tree where it connects to the stem. In this form, it’s known as jaggri, and besides being used as sugar, it's mixed with chunam to create cement for buildings and a fine plaster for walls that, along the Coromandel coast, rivals Parian marble in whiteness and shine. However, in many areas of the island, sugar is also produced from sugar cane. The rollers in the mill for this process are operated by an endless screw rather than cogs, and they're turned by hand using a bar that goes through one of the rollers, which is positioned higher than the other. As a trade item among the locals, it’s not significant, and they lack the skill to distill arrack, which is made from molasses and the juice of the anau or coconut palm undergoing fermentation. However, both are produced by Europeans.*
(*Footnote. Many attempts have been made by the English to bring to perfection the manufacture of sugar and arrack from the canes; but the expenses, particularly of the slaves, were always found to exceed the advantages. Within these few years (about 1777) that the plantations and works were committed to the management of Mr. Henry Botham, it has manifestly appeared that the end is to be obtained by employing the Chinese in the works of the field and allowing them a proportion of the produce for their labour. The manufacture had arrived at considerable perfection when the breaking out of war gave a check to its progress; but the path is pointed out, and it may be worth pursuing. The sums of money thrown into Batavia for arrack and sugar have been immense.)
(*Footnote. The English have made many attempts to perfect the production of sugar and arrack from sugarcane; however, the costs, especially for slaves, have always been higher than the benefits. In recent years (around 1777), under the management of Mr. Henry Botham, it has become clear that success can be achieved by employing Chinese workers in the fields and giving them a share of the output for their labor. The production process had reached a significant level of advancement when the outbreak of war hindered its progress; however, the way forward is clear, and it may be worth continuing. The amount of money invested in Batavia for arrack and sugar has been enormous.)
SALT.
SALT.
Salt is here, as in most other countries, an article of general consumption. The demand for it is mostly supplied by cargoes imported, but they also manufacture it themselves. The method is tedious. They kindle a fire close to the sea-beach, and gradually pour upon it sea water. When this has been continued for a certain time, the water evaporating, and the salt being precipitated among the ashes, they gather these in baskets, or in funnels made of the bark or leaves of trees, and again pour seawater on them till the particles of salt are well separated, and pass with the water into a vessel placed below to receive them. This water, now strongly impregnated, is boiled till the salt adheres in a thick crust to the bottom and sides of the vessel. In burning a square fathom of firewood a skilful person procures about five gallons of salt. What is thus made has so considerable a mixture of the salt of the wood that it soon dissolves, and cannot be carried far into the country. The coarsest grain is preferred.
Salt is a commonly used product here, just like in most other countries. The demand is mainly met through imports, but they also produce it locally. The process is quite labor-intensive. They start a fire near the beach and slowly pour sea water onto it. After a while, as the water evaporates, salt forms among the ashes. They collect this salt in baskets or in funnels made from tree bark or leaves, and then pour more seawater over it to separate the salt particles, which flow with the water into a container below. This water, now saturated with salt, is boiled until a thick crust of salt forms on the bottom and sides of the pot. A skilled person can produce about five gallons of salt from burning a square fathom of firewood. However, this salt has a significant amount of wood ash mixed in, which causes it to dissolve quickly and makes it difficult to transport far inland. The coarser grains are preferred.
ART OF MEDICINE.
Medicine as an Art.
The art of medicine among the Sumatrans consists almost entirely in the application of simples, in the virtues of which they are well skilled. Every old man and woman is a physician, and their rewards depend upon their success; but they generally procure a small sum in advance under the pretext of purchasing charms.* The mode of practice is either by administering the juices of certain trees and herbs inwardly, or by applying outwardly a poultice of leaves chopped small upon the breast or part affected, renewing it as soon as it becomes dry. For internal pains they rub oil on a large leaf of a stimulant quality, and, heating it before the fire, clap it on the body of the patient as a blister, which produces very powerful effects. Bleeding they never use, but the people of the neighbouring island of Nias are famous for their skill in cupping, which they practise in a manner peculiar to themselves.
The art of medicine among the Sumatrans mainly involves using simple remedies, and they are quite knowledgeable about their properties. Every older man and woman acts as a physician, and their pay depends on how well they do; however, they usually ask for a small payment upfront, claiming it's for buying charms.* Their methods include either giving patients the juices of certain trees and herbs to take internally or applying a poultice made of finely chopped leaves to the chest or affected area, changing it as soon as it dries out. For internal pain, they rub oil on a large, stimulating leaf, heat it over the fire, and then press it against the patient's body as a blister, which has very strong effects. They don’t practice bleeding, but the people from the nearby island of Nias are well-known for their cupping technique, which they do in their own unique way.
(*Footnote. Charms are there hung about the necks of children, as in Europe, and also worn by persons whose situations expose them to risk. They are long narrow scrolls of paper, filled with incoherent scraps of verse, which are separated from each other by a variety of fanciful drawings. A charm against an ague I once accidentally met with, which from circumstances I conclude to be a translation of such as are employed by the Portuguese Christians in India. Though not properly belonging to my subject, I present it to the reader. "(Sign of the cross). When Christ saw the cross he trembled and shaked; and they said unto him hast thou an ague? and he said unto them, I have neither ague nor fever; and whosoever bears these words, either in writing or in mind, shall never be troubled with ague or fever. So help thy servants, O Lord, who put their trust in thee!" From the many folds that appear in the original I have reason to apprehend that it had been worn, and by some Englishmen, whom frequent sickness and the fond love of life had rendered weak and superstitious enough to try the effects of this barbarous and ridiculous quackery.)
(*Footnote. Charms are worn around the necks of children, similar to those in Europe, and also by people whose situations put them at risk. They are long, narrow scrolls of paper filled with disconnected bits of verse, separated by various imaginative drawings. I once came across a charm for ague that I believe was a translation of those used by Portuguese Christians in India. Although it doesn’t strictly relate to my topic, I share it with the reader. "(Sign of the cross). When Christ saw the cross, he trembled and shook; and they asked him, do you have an ague? He replied, I have neither ague nor fever; and whoever carries these words, whether in writing or in memory, will never be afflicted by ague or fever. So help your servants, O Lord, who trust in you!" From the numerous creases visible in the original, I suspect it had been worn by some Englishmen who, due to frequent illness and a strong love of life, had become weak and superstitious enough to try this absurd and ridiculous quackery.)
FEVERS.
Fever.
In fevers they give a decoction of the herb lakun, and bathe the patient, for two or three mornings, in warm water. If this does not prove effectual, they pour over him, during the paroxysm, a quantity of cold water, rendered more chilly by the daun sedingin (Cotyledon laciniata) which, from the sudden revulsion it causes, brings on a copious perspiration. Pains and swellings in the limbs are likewise cured by sweating; but for this purpose they either cover themselves over with mats and sit in the sunshine at noon, or, if the operation be performed within doors, a lamp, and sometimes a pot of boiling herbs, is enclosed in the covering with them.
In fevers, they give a tea made from the herb lakun and bathe the patient in warm water for two or three mornings. If that doesn't work, they pour cold water over him during the peak of the fever, cooled even further by daun sedingin (Cotyledon laciniata), which causes a sudden change that leads to heavy sweating. Pain and swelling in the limbs are also treated by sweating; for this, they either cover themselves with mats and sit in the sunshine at noon or, if they are indoors, they enclose a lamp and sometimes a pot of boiling herbs with them.
LEPROSY.
LEPROSY.
There are two species of leprosy known in these parts. The milder sort, or impetigo, as I apprehend it to be, is very common among the inhabitants of Nias, great numbers of whom are covered with a white scurf or scales that renders them loathsome to the sight. But this distemper, though disagreeable from the violent itching and other inconveniences with which it is attended, does not appear immediately to affect the health, slaves in that situation being bought and sold for field and other outdoor work. It is communicated from parents to their offspring, but though hereditary it is not contagious. I have sometimes been induced to think it nothing more than a confirmed stage of the serpigo or ringworm, or it may be the same with what is elsewhere termed the shingles. I have known a Nias man who has effected a temporary removal of this scurf by the frequent application of the golinggang or daun kurap (Cassia alata) and such other herbs as are used to cure the ringworm, and sometimes by rubbing gunpowder and strong acids to his skin; but it always returned after some time. The other species with which the country people are in some instances affected is doubtless, from the description given of its dreadful symptoms, that severe kind of leprosy which has been termed elephantiasis, and is particularly described in the Asiatic Researches Volume 2, the skin coming off in flakes, and the flesh falling from the bones, as in the lues venerea. This disorder being esteemed highly infectious, the unhappy wretch who labours under it is driven from the village he belonged to into the woods, where victuals are left for him from time to time by his relations. A prang and a knife are likewise delivered to him, that he may build himself a hut, which is generally erected near to some river or lake, continual bathing being supposed to have some effect in removing the disorder, or alleviating the misery of the patient. Few instances of recovery have been known. There is a disease called the nambi which bears some affinity to this, attacking the feet chiefly, the flesh of which it eats away. As none but the lowest class of people seem to suffer from this complaint I imagine it proceeds in a great degree from want of cleanliness.
There are two types of leprosy known in this area. The milder form, which I think is impetigo, is very common among the people of Nias, many of whom are covered with white scabs or scales that make them unpleasant to look at. However, this condition, though bothersome due to the intense itching and other discomforts it causes, doesn’t seem to directly harm health, as people in this condition are still bought and sold for field and other outdoor jobs. It can be passed from parents to their children, but although it's hereditary, it isn't contagious. Sometimes I’ve wondered if it’s just a chronic stage of ringworm, or it might be related to what’s known elsewhere as shingles. I’ve seen a man from Nias temporarily get rid of this scurf by frequently applying golinggang or daun kurap (Cassia alata) and other herbs used for ringworm, and sometimes by rubbing gunpowder and strong acids on his skin; but it always came back after a while. The other type that some locals experience is certainly, based on the terrifying symptoms described, the severe form of leprosy known as elephantiasis, which is specifically noted in the Asiatic Researches Volume 2, where the skin peels off in flakes and flesh falls from the bones, similar to syphilis. This condition is considered highly infectious, so the unfortunate person suffering from it is driven from their village into the woods, where their family occasionally leaves food for them. They also receive a prang and a knife to build a shelter, which is typically set up near a river or lake, as frequent bathing is thought to help remove the condition or lessen the patient's suffering. Few recoveries have been reported. There is a disease called nambi that is somewhat related to this, primarily affecting the feet and eating away the flesh. Since only the lowest class of people seem to suffer from this complaint, I believe it’s largely due to a lack of cleanliness.
SMALLPOX.
Smallpox.
The smallpox (katumbuhan) sometimes visits the island and makes terrible ravages. It is regarded as a plague, and drives from the country thousands whom the infection spares. Their method of stopping its progress (for they do not attempt a cure) is by converting into a hospital or receptacle for the rest that village where lie the greatest number of sick, whither they send all who are attacked by the disorder from the country round. The most effectual methods are pursued to prevent any person's escape from this village, which is burnt to the ground as soon as the infection has spent itself or devoured all the victims thus offered to it. Inoculation was an idea long unthought of, and, as it could not be universal, it was held to be a dangerous experiment for Europeans to introduce it partially, in a country where the disorder makes its appearance at distant intervals only, unless those periods could be seized and the attempts made when and where there might be well-founded apprehension of its being communicated in the natural way. Such an opportunity presented itself in 1780, when great numbers of people (estimated at a third of the population) were swept away in the course of that and the two following years; whilst upon those under the immediate influence of the English and Dutch settlements inoculation was practised with great success. I trust that the preventive blessing of vaccination has or will be extended to a country so liable to be afflicted with this dreadful scourge. A distemper called chachar, much resembling the smallpox, and in its first stages mistaken for it, is not uncommon. It causes an alarm but does not prove mortal, and is probably what we term the chickenpox.
Smallpox sometimes hits the island and causes terrible destruction. It's seen as a plague and drives thousands from the country, even those who are not infected. Their way of stopping its spread (since they don’t try to cure it) is to turn into a hospital the village with the most sick people, to which they send all who are affected by the illness from the surrounding areas. The most effective measures are taken to prevent anyone from escaping from this village, which is burned to the ground as soon as the infection has run its course or taken all the victims. Inoculation was a concept that hadn’t been considered for a long time, and since it couldn’t be used for everyone, it was regarded as a risky experiment for Europeans to introduce it partially in a place where the disease appears only at distant intervals, unless those times could be pinpointed when there was a real risk of it spreading naturally. Such an opportunity arose in 1780, when many people (about a third of the population) were wiped out over that year and the two following years; meanwhile, in the areas heavily influenced by the English and Dutch settlements, inoculation was successfully practiced. I hope that the preventive benefits of vaccination have been or will be brought to a country so prone to suffering from this terrible disease. There is also an illness called chachar, which closely resembles smallpox and is often mistaken for it in its early stages. It causes panic but isn't fatal, and it’s probably what we call chickenpox.
VENEREAL DISEASE.
STI.
The venereal disease, though common in the Malay bazaars, is in the inland country almost unknown. A man returning to his village with the infection is shunned by the inhabitants as an unclean and interdicted person. The Malays are supposed to cure it with the decoction of a china-root, called by them gadong, which causes a salivation.
The sexually transmitted disease, although common in the Malay markets, is almost unheard of in the inland areas. A man who comes back to his village with the infection is avoided by the locals as someone unclean and banned. The Malays are thought to treat it with a decoction made from a plant called gadong, which makes a person salivate.
INSANITY.
Madness.
When a man is by sickness or otherwise deprived of his reason, or when subject to convulsion fits, they imagine him possessed by an evil spirit, and their ceremony of exorcism is performed by putting the unfortunate wretch into a hut, which they set fire to about his ears, suffering him to make his escape through the flames in the best manner he can. The fright, which would go nigh to destroy the intellects of a reasonable man, may perhaps have under contrary circumstances an opposite effect.
When a man is sick or otherwise loses his sanity, or when he has convulsions, people think he’s possessed by an evil spirit. Their ceremony to exorcise him involves putting the unfortunate person in a hut and setting it on fire around him, allowing him to escape through the flames as best as he can. The fear that would nearly drive a rational person crazy might, in different circumstances, have the opposite effect.
SCIENCES.
Science.
The skill of the Sumatrans in any of the sciences, is, as may be presumed, very limited.
The Sumatrans' expertise in any of the sciences is, as you might expect, quite limited.
ARITHMETIC.
Math.
Some however I have met with who, in arithmetic, could multiply and divide, by a single multiplier or divisor, several places of figures. Tens of thousands (laksa) are the highest class of numbers the Malay language has a name for. In counting over a quantity of small articles each tenth, and afterwards each hundredth piece is put aside; which method is consonant with the progress of scientific numeration, and probably gave it origin. When they may have occasion to recollect at a distance of time the tale of any commodities they are carrying to market, or the like, the country people often assist their memory by tying knots on a string, which is produced when they want to specify the number. The Peruvian quipos were I suppose an improvement upon this simple invention.
Some people I've met can multiply and divide in arithmetic using a single number to handle several digits. The highest number the Malay language has a name for is tens of thousands (laksa). When counting a bunch of small items, they set aside every tenth and then every hundredth piece, which aligns with the development of scientific counting and probably inspired it. When they need to remember what goods they are taking to the market after some time, country folks often help their memory by tying knots in a string, which they refer to when they want to indicate the number. I assume the Peruvian quipos were an enhancement of this straightforward idea.
MEASURES.
MEASURES.
They estimate the quantity of most species of merchandise by what we call dry measure, the use of weights, as applied to bulky articles, being apparently introduced among them by foreigners; for the pikul and catti are used only on the sea-coast and places which the Malays frequent. The kulah or bamboo, containing very nearly a gallon, is the general standard of measure among the Rejangs: of these eight hundred make a koyan: the chupah is one quarter of a bamboo. By this measure almost all articles, even elephants' teeth, are bought and sold; but by a bamboo of ivory they mean so much as is equal in weight to a bamboo of rice. This still includes the idea of weight, but is not attended with their principal objection to that mode of ascertaining quantity which arises, as they say, from the impossibility of judging by the eye of the justness of artificial weights, owing to the various materials of which they may be composed, and to which measurement is not liable. The measures of length here, as perhaps originally among every people upon earth, are taken from the dimensions of the human body. The deppa, or fathom, is the extent of the arms from each extremity of the fingers: the etta, asta, or cubit, is the forearm and hand; kaki is the foot; jungka is the span; and jarri, which signifies a finger, is the inch. These are estimated from the general proportions of middle-sized men, others making an allowance in measuring, and not regulated by an exact standard.
They estimate the quantity of most goods using what we call dry measure; using weights for bulky items seems to have been introduced by foreigners. The pikul and catti are used only in coastal areas and places frequented by Malays. The kulah, a bamboo container that holds almost a gallon, is the common standard of measure among the Rejangs: eight hundred of these make a koyan, and the chupah is one-quarter of a bamboo. With this measure, almost all items, even elephant tusks, are bought and sold; when they refer to a bamboo of ivory, they mean an amount that weighs the same as a bamboo of rice. This still includes the concept of weight but doesn't have their main issue with that way of measuring quantity, which they say comes from the difficulty of judging the accuracy of artificial weights, due to the different materials they can be made from and the way those measurements can vary. The measures of length here, like with many cultures, are based on human body dimensions. The deppa, or fathom, is the length of the arms from fingertip to fingertip; the etta, asta, or cubit is the length of the forearm and hand; kaki is the foot; jungka is the span; and jarri, which means a finger, is the inch. These are based on the average proportions of medium-sized people, with some making adjustments in measuring, and they're not regulated by a strict standard.
GEOGRAPHY.
Geography.
The ideas of geography among such of them as do not frequent the sea are perfectly confined, or rather they entertain none. Few of them know that the country they inhabit is an island, or have any general name for it. Habit renders them expert in travelling through the woods, where they perform journeys of weeks and months without seeing a dwelling. In places little frequented, where they have occasion to strike out new paths (for roads there are none), they make marks on trees for the future guidance of themselves and others. I have heard a man say, "I will attempt a passage by such a route, for my father, when living, told me that he had left his tokens there." They estimate the distance of places from each other by the number of days, or the proportion of the day, taken up in travelling it, and not by measurement of the space. Their journey, or day's walk, may be computed at about twenty miles; but they can bear a long continuance of fatigue.
The people who don’t often go to the sea have a very limited understanding of geography, or they don’t think about it at all. Few know that the land they live on is actually an island, and they don’t have a general name for it. They are skilled at navigating through the woods, often traveling for weeks or months without seeing any buildings. In less-traveled areas, if they need to create new paths (since there are no roads), they mark trees to help themselves and others find their way later. I once heard someone say, "I’ll try to go this way because my father told me he left markers there." They measure how far apart places are by how many days it takes to travel between them, not by actual distance. A typical day’s journey is around twenty miles, but they can endure long periods of fatigue.
ASTRONOMY.
ASTRONOMY.
The Malays as well as the Arabs and other Mahometan nations fix the length of the year at three hundred and fifty-four days, or twelve lunar months of twenty-nine days and a half; by which mode of reckoning each year is thrown back about eleven days. The original Sumatrans rudely estimate their annual periods from the revolution of the seasons, and count their years from the number of their crops of grain (taun padi); a practice which, though not pretending to accuracy, is much more useful for the general purposes of life than the lunar period, which is merely adapted to religious observances. They as well as the Malays compute time by lunations, but do not attempt to trace any relation or correspondence between these smaller measures and the solar revolution. Whilst more polished nations were multiplying mistakes and difficulties in their endeavours to ascertain the completion of the sun's course through the ecliptic, and in the meanwhile suffering their nominal seasons to become almost the reverse of nature, these people, without an idea of intercalation, preserved in a rude way the account of their years free from essential, or at least progressive, error and the confusion which attends it. The division of the month into weeks I believe to be unknown except where it has been taught with Mahometanism; the day of the moon's age being used instead of it where accuracy is required; nor do they subdivide the day into hours. To denote the time of day at which any circumstance they find it necessary to speak of happened, they point with their finger to the height in the sky at which the sun then stood. And this mode is the more general and precise as the sun, so near the equator, ascends and descends almost perpendicularly, and rises and sets at all seasons of the year within a few minutes of six o'clock. Scarcely any of the stars or constellations are distinguished by them. They notice however the planet Venus, but do not imagine her to be the same at the different periods of her revolution when she precedes the rising, and follows the setting sun. They are aware of the night on which the new moon should make its appearance, and the Malays salute it with the discharge of guns. They also know when to expect the returns of the tides, which are at their height, on the south-western coast of the island, when that luminary is in the horizon, and ebb as it rises. When they observe a bright star near the moon (or rubbing against her, as they express it), they are apprehensive of a storm, as European sailors foretell a gale from the sharpness of her horns. These are both, in part, the consequence of an unusual clearness in the air, which, proceeding from an extraordinary alteration of the state of the atmosphere, may naturally be followed by a violent rushing of the circumjacent parts to restore the equilibrium, and thus prove the prognostic of high wind. During an eclipse they make a loud noise with sounding-instruments to prevent one luminary from devouring the other, as the Chinese, to frighten away the dragon, a superstition that has its source in the ancient systems of astronomy (particularly the Hindu) where the nodes of the moon are identified with the dragon's head and tail. They tell of a man in the moon who is continually employed in spinning cotton, but that every night a rat gnaws his thread and obliges him to begin his work afresh. This they apply as an emblem of endless and ineffectual labour, like the stone of Sisyphus, and the sieves of the Danaides.
The Malays, along with the Arabs and other Muslim nations, determine the year to be three hundred and fifty-four days, equivalent to twelve lunar months of twenty-nine and a half days each; this calculation causes each year to fall back by about eleven days. The original Sumatrans roughly estimate their year based on the changing seasons and count their years by the number of their rice harvests (taun padi); while not exactly accurate, this method is much more practical for everyday life compared to the lunar calendar, which mainly serves religious purposes. They, along with the Malays, measure time using lunar cycles but don't try to connect these shorter measurements with the solar year. While more advanced societies were complicating their methods and struggling to track the sun's path through the ecliptic, leading to a disconnect between their seasons and nature, these people maintained a straightforward record of their years without significant errors or confusion, lacking any concept of intercalation. I believe the division of the month into weeks is not known to them except where it has been introduced with Islam; instead, they use the moon's age when more precision is needed, and they do not break the day into hours. To indicate the time of day for any events they mention, they point to the position of the sun in the sky. This method is quite effective and specific, as, near the equator, the sun rises and sets nearly vertically and does so at around the same time throughout the year, typically around six o'clock. They hardly identify any stars or constellations, but they do recognize the planet Venus, though they don't think of her as the same at different times in her cycle when she appears before sunrise or after sunset. They are familiar with the night the new moon is expected to show up, and the Malays celebrate it with gunfire. They also know when to anticipate the tides, which are at their highest on the southwestern coast of the island when the moon is on the horizon, ebbing as it rises. When they see a bright star near the moon (or "rubbing against her," as they say), they fear a storm, similar to how European sailors predict strong winds from a crescent moon. This awareness is partly due to an unusual clarity in the air, which, arising from significant changes in atmospheric conditions, could precede intense winds as the air moves to restore balance. During an eclipse, they create loud noises with instruments to stop one celestial body from swallowing the other, much like the Chinese who make noise to scare away a dragon—a superstition rooted in ancient astronomical beliefs (especially Hindu) that associate the moon's nodes with the dragon's head and tail. They tell a tale of a man in the moon who is constantly spinning cotton, but every night a rat gnaws on his thread, forcing him to start over. They see this as a symbol of endless and futile effort, akin to the myth of Sisyphus or the Danaïdes' sieves.
With history and chronology the country people are but little acquainted, the memory of past events being preserved by tradition only.
The rural folks aren't very familiar with history and timelines; they only keep the memories of past events alive through tradition.
MUSIC.
Music.
They are fond of music and have many instruments in use among them, but few, upon inquiry, appear to be original, being mostly borrowed from the Chinese and other more eastern people; particularly the kalintang, gong, and sulin. The violin has found its way to them from the westward. The kalintang resembles the sticcado and the harmonica; the more common ones having the cross-pieces, which are struck with two little hammers, of split bamboo, and the more perfect of a certain composition of metal which is very sonorous. The gongs, a kind of bell, but differing much in shape and struck on the outside, are cast in sets regularly tuned to thirds, fourth, fifth, and octave, and often serve as a bass, or under part, to the kalintang. They are also sounded for the purpose of calling together the inhabitants of the village upon any particular occasion; but the more ancient and still common instrument for this use is a hollowed log of wood named katut. The sulin is the Malayan flute. The country flute is called serdum. It is made of bamboo, is very imperfect, having but few stops, and resembles much an instrument described as found among the people of Otaheite. A single hole underneath is covered with the thumb of the left hand, and the hole nearest the end at which it is blown, on the upper side, with a finger of the same hand. The other two holes are stopped with the right-hand fingers. In blowing they hold it inclined to the right side. They have various instruments of the drum kind, particularly those called tingkah, which are in pairs and beaten with the hands at each end. They are made of a certain kind of wood hollowed out, covered with dried goat-skins, and laced with split rattans. It is difficult to obtain a proper knowledge of their division of the scale, as they know nothing of it in theory. The interval we call an octave seems to be divided with them into six tones, without any intermediate semitones, which must confine their music to one key. It consists in general of but few notes, and the third is the interval that most frequently occurs. Those who perform on the violin use the same notes as in our division, and they tune the instrument by fifths to a great nicety. They are fond of playing the octave, but scarcely use any other chord. The Sumatran tunes very much resemble, to my ear, those of the native Irish, and have usually, like them, a flat third: the same has been observed of the music of Bengal, and probably it will be found that the minor key obtains a preference amongst all people at a certain stage of civilization.
They love music and have many instruments, but most of them seem to be borrowed, especially from the Chinese and other more eastern cultures, like the kalintang, gong, and sulin. The violin has come to them from the west. The kalintang is similar to the sticcado and harmonica; the more common versions have cross-pieces struck with two small hammers made of split bamboo, while the more refined ones are made of a metal composition that produces a rich sound. The gongs are like bells but vary significantly in shape and are struck on the outside; they are cast in sets that are tuned to thirds, fourths, fifths, and octaves, often serving as a bass accompaniment for the kalintang. They are also used to gather the villagers for special occasions; however, the older and still popular instrument for this purpose is a hollowed log of wood called katut. The sulin is the Malayan flute, and the country flute is known as serdum. It’s made of bamboo, has few holes, and is quite rudimentary, resembling an instrument found in Otaheite. There’s a single hole underneath covered with the thumb of the left hand, and the hole nearest the blowing end on top is covered with a finger of the same hand. The other two holes are stopped with fingers of the right hand. When they play, they hold it tilted to the right. They have various drum-like instruments, especially those called tingkah, which come in pairs and are struck with hands on each end. They’re made from a specific type of wood that’s hollowed out, covered with dried goat skins, and laced with split rattans. It’s hard to understand how they divide their musical scale because they don’t have a theoretical understanding. The interval we call an octave seems to be divided by them into six tones, with no semitones in between, which restricts their music to one key. Their music generally uses very few notes, with the third being the most common interval. Those who play the violin use the same notes as in our musical scale, and they fine-tune the instrument by perfect fifths. They like to play octaves but rarely use any other chords. The tunes from Sumatra remind me of native Irish music, often featuring a flat third; the same has been noted with the music of Bengal, and it may be found that the minor key is preferred among many cultures at a certain level of development.
CHAPTER 10.
LANGUAGES.
MALAYAN.
ARABIC CHARACTER USED.
LANGUAGES OF THE INTERIOR PEOPLE.
PECULIAR CHARACTERS.
SPECIMENS OF LANGUAGES AND OF ALPHABETS.
LANGUAGES.
MALAYAN.
ARABIC SCRIPT USED.
LANGUAGES OF THE INLAND PEOPLE.
UNIQUE CHARACTERS.
SAMPLES OF LANGUAGES AND ALPHABETS.
LANGUAGES.
Languages.
Before I proceed to an account of the laws, customs, and manners of the people of the island it is necessary that I should say something of the different languages spoken on it, the diversity of which has been the subject of much contemplation and conjecture.
Before I go into the laws, customs, and behaviors of the people on the island, I need to mention the different languages spoken there, which have been the topic of much thought and speculation.
MALAYAN.
MALAYSIAN.
The Malayan language, which has commonly been supposed original in the peninsula of Malayo, and from thence to have extended itself throughout the eastern islands, so as to become the lingua franca of that part of the globe, is spoken everywhere along the coasts of Sumatra, prevails without the mixture of any other in the inland country of Menangkabau and its immediate dependencies, and is understood in almost every part of the island. It has been much celebrated, and justly, for the smoothness and sweetness of its sound, which have gained it the appellation of the Italian of the East. This is owing to the prevalence of vowels and liquids in the words (with many nasals which may be thought an objection) and the infrequency of any harsh combination of mute consonants. These qualities render it well adapted to poetry, which the Malays are passionately addicted to.
The Malayan language, which is often believed to have originated in the Malay Peninsula and then spread to the eastern islands, becoming the common language of that region, is spoken all along the coasts of Sumatra. It is dominant without any other influences in the inland area of Menangkabau and its nearby regions, and it is understood in almost every part of the island. It has been widely praised, and rightly so, for its smooth and sweet sound, earning it the nickname the Italian of the East. This is due to the abundance of vowels and liquid sounds in its words (though there are some nasal sounds that some may see as a drawback) and the rarity of harsh clusters of consonants. These features make it particularly suited for poetry, which the Malays love deeply.
SONGS.
TUNES.
They amuse all their leisure hours, including the greater portion of their lives, with the repetition of songs which are, for the most part, proverbs illustrated, or figures of speech applied to the occurrences of life. Some that they rehearse, in a kind of recitative, at their bimbangs or feasts, are historical love tales like our old English ballads, and are often extemporaneous productions. An example of the former species is as follows:
They spend all their free time, which takes up a big part of their lives, repeating songs that mostly serve as illustrated proverbs or metaphors related to everyday life. Some of these they perform in a kind of recitative at their gatherings or parties, telling historical love stories similar to our old English ballads, and many times, they make them up on the spot. An example of the former type is as follows:
Apa guna passang palita, Kallo tidah dangan sumbu'nia? Apa guna bermine matta, Kalla tidah dangan sunggu'nia? What signifies attempting to light a lamp, If the wick be wanting? What signifies playing with the eyes, If nothing in earnest be intended?
What’s the point of trying to light a lamp, If there’s no wick? What’s the point of playing with your eyes, If nothing serious is meant?
It must be observed however that it often proves a very difficult matter to trace the connexion between the figurative and the literal sense of the stanza. The essentials in the composition of the pantun, for such these little pieces are called, the longer being called dendang, are the rhythmus and the figure, particularly the latter, which they consider as the life and spirit of the poetry. I had a proof of this in an attempt which I made to impose a pantun of my own composing on the natives as a work of their countrymen. The subject was a dialogue between a lover and a rich coy mistress: the expressions were proper to the occasion, and in some degree characteristic. It passed with several, but an old lady who was a more discerning critic than the others remarked that it was "katta katta saja"--mere conversation; meaning that it was destitute of the quaint and figurative expressions which adorn their own poetry. Their language in common speaking is proverbial and sententious. If a young woman prove with child before marriage they observe it is daulu buah, kadian bunga--the fruit before the flower. Hearing of a person's death they say, nen matti, matti; nen idup, bekraja: kallo sampi janji'nia, apa buli buat?--Those who are dead, are dead; those who survive must work: if his allotted time was expired, what resource is there? The latter phrase they always make use of to express their sense of inevitability, and has more force than any translation of it I can employ.
It should be noted, however, that it can often be quite challenging to trace the connection between the figurative and literal meanings of the stanza. The essentials in crafting the pantun, which is what these little pieces are called, while the longer ones are called dendang, are the rhythm and the imagery, particularly the latter, which they consider the life and soul of the poetry. I experienced this firsthand when I tried to pass off a pantun of my own creation to the locals as a piece by their countrymen. The subject was a dialogue between a lover and a wealthy coy mistress: the phrases were appropriate for the occasion and somewhat characteristic. It was accepted by many, but an older lady, who was a more insightful critic than the others, remarked that it was "katta katta saja"—just chatter; implying that it lacked the unique and figurative language that embellishes their own poetry. Their everyday language is full of proverbs and wise sayings. If a young woman becomes pregnant before marriage, they say it is daulu buah, kadian bunga—fruit before the flower. When hearing about someone's death, they say, nen matti, matti; nen idup, bekraja: kallo sampi janji'nia, apa buli buat?—Those who are dead are dead; those who live must work: if his time was up, what can be done? They use this latter phrase to express their sense of inevitability, and it carries more weight than any translation I can provide.
ARABIC CHARACTER USED BY MALAYS.
Arabic script used by Malays.
Their writing is in the Arabic character, with modifications to adapt that alphabet to their language, and, in consequence of the adoption of their religion from the same quarter, a great number of Arabic words are incorporated with the Malayan. The Portuguese too have furnished them with several terms, chiefly for such ideas as they have acquired since the period of European discoveries to the eastward. They write on paper, using ink of their own composition, with pens made of the twig of the anau tree. I could never discover that the Malays had any original written characters peculiar to themselves before they acquired those now in use; but it is possible that such might have been lost, a fate that may hereafter attend the Batta, Rejang, and others of Sumatra, on which the Arabic daily makes encroachments. Yet I have had frequent occasion to observe the former language written by inland people in the country character; which would indicate that the speech is likely to perish first. The Malayan books are very numerous, both in prose and verse. Many of them are commentaries on the koran, and others romances or heroic tales.
Their writing uses the Arabic script, modified to fit their language, and as a result of adopting their religion from that region, many Arabic words are mixed into the Malay language. The Portuguese have also introduced several terms, mainly for concepts they learned since European exploration began in the east. They write on paper, using specially made ink and pens made from the twigs of the anau tree. I could never find evidence that the Malays had any unique written characters before adopting the current script; however, it’s possible that any original writing might have been lost, which could also happen to the Batta, Rejang, and other groups in Sumatra, as Arabic continues to spread. Still, I've often seen the original language written by inland communities in their native script, suggesting that their spoken language may be the first to disappear. There are many Malay books, both prose and poetry. A lot of them are commentaries on the Quran, while others are romances or epic stories.
The purest or most elegant Malayan is said, and with great appearance of reason, to be spoken at Malacca. It differs from the dialect used in Sumatra chiefly in this, that words, in the latter, made to terminate in "o," are in the former, sounded as ending in "a." Thus they pronounce lada (pepper) instead of lado. Those words which end with "k" in writing, are, in Sumatra, always softened in speaking, by omitting it; as tabbe bannia, many compliments, for tabbek banniak; but the Malaccans, and especially the more eastern people, who speak a very broad dialect, give them generally the full sound. The personal pronouns also differ materially in the respective countries.
The purest or most refined Malay is said to be spoken in Malacca, and there’s a strong reason behind this belief. It mainly differs from the dialect used in Sumatra in that words ending in "o" are pronounced as if they end in "a" in Malacca. For example, they say lada (pepper) instead of lado. Words that are written with "k" at the end are often softened in speech in Sumatra, dropping the "k." So, tabbe bannia means many compliments for tabbek banniak; however, people from Malacca, especially those from the eastern regions who use a very broad dialect, usually give them the full sound. The personal pronouns also vary significantly between the two regions.
Attempts have been made to compose a grammar of this tongue upon the principles on which those of the European languages are formed. But the inutility of such productions is obvious. Where there is no inflexion of either nouns or verbs there can be no cases, declensions, moods, or conjugations. All this is performed by the addition of certain words expressive of a determinate meaning, which should not be considered as mere auxiliaries, or as particles subservient to other words. Thus, in the instance of rumah, a house; deri pada rumah signifies from a house; but it would be talking without use or meaning to say that deri pada is the sign of the ablative case of that noun, for then every preposition should equally require an appropriate case, and as well as of, to, and from, we should have a case for deatas rumah, on top of the house. So of verbs: kallo saya buli jalan, If I could walk: this may be termed the preter-imperfect tense of the subjunctive or potential mood of the verb jalan; whereas it is in fact a sentence of which jalan, buli, etc. are constituent words. It is improper, I say, to talk of the case of a noun which does not change its termination, or the mood of a verb which does not alter its form. A useful set of observations might be collected for speaking the language with correctness and propriety, but they must be independent of the technical rules of languages founded on different principles.*
Attempts have been made to create a grammar for this language based on the principles used for European languages. However, the uselessness of such efforts is clear. When there is no inflection of either nouns or verbs, there can be no cases, declensions, moods, or conjugations. Instead, all of this is indicated by adding certain words that express specific meanings, which shouldn't be seen as mere helpers or particles that support other words. For example, with the word rumah, which means a house; deri pada rumah means from a house. It would be pointless to claim that deri pada signifies the ablative case of that noun since every preposition would then need to require a specific case, and alongside of, to, and from, we would also need a case for deatas rumah, meaning on top of the house. The same goes for verbs: kallo saya buli jalan means If I could walk; this might be referred to as the preter-imperfect tense of the subjunctive or potential mood of the verb jalan, but in reality, it's just a sentence where jalan, buli, etc., are parts of it. It's incorrect, I say, to discuss the case of a noun that doesn’t change its ending, or the mood of a verb that doesn’t change its form. A useful collection of observations could be gathered to speak the language correctly and appropriately, but these must be independent of the technical rules of languages based on different principles.*
(*Footnote. I have ventured to make this attempt, and have also prepared a Dictionary of the language which it is my intention to print with as little delay as circUmstances will admit.)
(*Footnote. I've taken the initiative to make this attempt, and I've also created a Dictionary of the language that I plan to print as soon as possible given the circumstances.)
INTERIOR PEOPLE USE LANGUAGES DIFFERENT FROM THE MALAYAN.
INTERIOR PEOPLE USE LANGUAGES DIFFERENT FROM MALAYAN.
Beside the Malayan there are a variety of languages spoken in Sumatra which however have not only a manifest affinity among themselves, but also to that general language which is found to prevail in, and to be indigenous to all the islands of the eastern sea; from Madagascar to the remotest of Captain Cook's discoveries; comprehending a wider extent than the Roman or any other tongue has yet boasted. Indisputable examples of this connexion and similarity I have exhibited in a paper which the Society of Antiquaries have done me the honour to publish in their Archaeologia, Volume 6. In different places it has been more or less mixed and corrupted, but between the most dissimilar branches an evident sameness of many radical words is apparent, and in some, very distant from each other in point of situation, as for instance the Philippines and Madagascar, the deviation of the words is scarcely more than is observed in the dialects of neighbouring provinces of the same kingdom. To render this comparison of languages more extensive, and if possible to bring all those spoken throughout the world into one point of view, is an object of which I have never lost sight, but my hopes of completing such a work are by no means sanguine.
Next to the Malayan language, there are various languages spoken in Sumatra that not only share clear similarities with each other but also with the general language that is found across all the islands of the eastern sea, stretching from Madagascar to the furthest reaches of Captain Cook's discoveries; this encompasses a broader range than any Roman or other language has ever claimed. I have presented undeniable examples of this connection and similarity in a paper that the Society of Antiquaries kindly published in their Archaeologia, Volume 6. In different regions, the languages have been more or less blended and altered, but there is a noticeable similarity in many fundamental words among even the most distinct branches. For instance, in the Philippines and Madagascar, the differences in the words are barely greater than those found in the dialects of neighboring provinces within the same kingdom. My goal has always been to expand this comparison of languages and, if possible, bring all the languages spoken around the world into a single perspective, though I am not very optimistic about completing such a project.
PECULIAR WRITTEN CHARACTERS.
STRANGE WRITING SYMBOLS.
The principal of these Sumatran languages are the Botta, the Rejang, and the Lampong, whose difference is marked not so much by the want of correspondence in the terms as by the circumstance of their being expressed in distinct and peculiar written characters. But whether this apparent difference be radical and essential, or only produced by accident and the lapse of time, may be thought to admit of doubt; and, in order that the reader may be enabled to form his own judgment, a plate containing the Alphabetical characters of each, with the mode of applying the orthographical marks to those of the Rejang language in particular, is annexed. It would indeed be extraordinary, and perhaps singular in the history of human improvement, that divisions of people in the same island, with equal claims to originality, in stages of civilization nearly equal, and speaking languages derived from the same source, should employ characters different from each other, as well as from the rest of the world. It will be found however that the alphabet used in the neighbouring island of Java (given by Corneille Le Brun), that used by the Tagala people of the Philippines (given by Thevenot), and by the Bugis people of Celebes (given by Captain Forrest), vary at least as much from these and from each other as the Rejang from the Batta. The Sanskrit scholar will at the same time perceive in several of them an analogy to the rhythmical arrangement, terminating with a nasal, which distinguishes the alphabet of that ancient language whose influence is known to have been extensive in this quarter. In the country of Achin, where the language differs considerably from the Malayan, the Arabic character has nevertheless been adopted, and on this account it has less claim to originality.
The main Sumatran languages are Batta, Rejang, and Lampong, and their differences are marked not so much by the lack of corresponding terms as by the unique written characters they use. Whether this apparent difference is fundamental and essential or just a result of chance and the passage of time is debatable. To help the reader make their own judgment, an attached plate shows the alphabetical characters of each language, specifically detailing how the orthographical marks apply to the Rejang language. It would indeed be extraordinary—and perhaps unique in the history of human advancement—that groups of people on the same island, having equal claims to originality, similar levels of civilization, and languages from the same source, would use distinct characters from each other and from the rest of the world. However, it will be noted that the alphabet used in the neighboring island of Java (as documented by Corneille Le Brun), that of the Tagala people in the Philippines (as noted by Thevenot), and the Bugis people in Celebes (as recorded by Captain Forrest) differ at least as much from each other and from these languages as Rejang does from Batta. A Sanskrit scholar might also notice similarities to the rhythmic arrangement ending in a nasal sound, which characterizes the alphabet of that ancient language known to have had a significant influence in this region. In Achin, where the language is quite different from Malay, the Arabic script has been adopted, which lessens its claim to originality.
ON BARK OF TREES AND BAMBOO.
ON BARK OF TREES AND BAMBOO.
Their manuscripts of any bulk and importance are written with ink of their own making on the inner bark of a tree cut into slips of several feet in length and folded together in squares; each square or fold answering to a page or leaf. For more common occasions they write on the outer coat of a joint of bamboo, sometimes whole but generally split into pieces of two or three inches in breadth, with the point of the weapon worn at their side, which serves the purpose of a stylus; and these writings, or scratchings rather, are often performed with a considerable degree of neatness. Thus the Chinese also are said by their historians to have written on pieces of bamboo before they invented paper. Of both kinds of manuscript I have many specimens in my possession. The lines are formed from the left hand towards the right, contrary to the practice of the Malays and the Arabians.
Their important manuscripts are created using ink they make themselves, written on the inner bark of trees cut into strips of several feet long and folded into squares; each square or fold represents a page or leaf. For everyday use, they write on the outer layer of bamboo joints, which are sometimes whole but usually cut into pieces two or three inches wide, using the point of a weapon they carry at their side as a stylus. These writings, or rather scratchings, are often done quite neatly. Historians say the Chinese also wrote on pieces of bamboo before they invented paper. I have many examples of both types of manuscripts in my possession. The lines are written from left to right, which is different from the practice of the Malays and Arabs.
In Java, Siam, and other parts of the East, beside the common language of the country, there is established a court language spoken by persons of rank only; a distinction invented for the purpose of keeping the vulgar at a distance, and inspiring them with respect for what they do not understand. The Malays also have their bhasa dalam, or courtly style, which contains a number of expressions not familiarly used in common conversation or writing, but yet by no means constituting a separate language, any more than, in English, the elevated style of our poets and historians. Amongst the inhabitants of Sumatra in general disparity of condition is not attended with much ceremonious distance of behaviour between the persons.
In Java, Siam, and other parts of the East, alongside the common language spoken in the region, there’s a formal court language used only by people of high status. This distinction was created to keep the general public at a distance and to command respect for what they don’t understand. The Malays also have their bhasa dalam, or courtly style, which includes expressions not commonly heard in everyday conversation or writing, but it doesn’t make up a separate language, similar to how the elevated language of our poets and historians in English works. Generally, among the people of Sumatra, differences in social status don't lead to much formal behavior between individuals.
CHAPTER 11.
COMPARATIVE STATE OF THE SUMATRANS IN CIVIL SOCIETY.
DIFFERENCE OF CHARACTER BETWEEN THE MALAYS AND OTHER INHABITANTS.
GOVERNMENT.
TITLES AND POWER OF THE CHIEFS AMONG THE REJANGS.
INFLUENCE OF THE EUROPEANS.
GOVERNMENT IN PASSUMMAH.
COMPARATIVE STATE OF THE SUMATRANS IN CIVIL SOCIETY.
DIFFERENCE IN CHARACTER BETWEEN THE MALAYS AND OTHER INHABITANTS.
GOVERNMENT.
TITLES AND POWER OF THE CHIEFS AMONG THE REJANGS.
INFLUENCE OF THE EUROPEANS.
GOVERNMENT IN PASSUMMAH.
COMPARATIVE STATE OF SUMATRANS IN SOCIETY.
COMPARATIVE STATUS OF SUMATRANS IN SOCIETY.
Considered as a people occupying a certain rank in the scale or civil society, it is not easy to determine the proper situation of the inhabitants of this island. Though far distant from that point to which the polished states of Europe have aspired, they yet look down, with an interval almost as great, on the savage tribes of Africa and America. Perhaps if we distinguish mankind summarily into five classes; but of which each would admit of numberless subdivisions; we might assign a third place to the more civilized Sumatrans, and a fourth to the remainder. In the first class I should of course include some of the republics of ancient Greece, in the days of their splendour; the Romans, for some time before and after the Augustan age; France, England, and other refined nations of Europe, in the latter centuries; and perhaps China. The second might comprehend the great Asiatic empires at the period of their prosperity; Persia, the Mogul, the Turkish, with some European kingdoms. In the third class, along with the Sumatrans and a few other states of the eastern archipelago, I should rank the nations on the northern coast of Africa, and the more polished Arabs. The fourth class, with the less civilized Sumatrans, will take in the people of the new discovered islands in the South Sea; perhaps the celebrated Mexican and Peruvian empires; the Tartar hordes, and all those societies of people in various parts of the globe, who, possessing personal property, and acknowledging some species of established subordination, rise one step above the Caribs, the New Hollanders, the Laplanders, and the Hottentots, who exhibit a picture of mankind in its rudest and most humiliating aspect.
It’s not easy to determine the proper status of the people living on this island in the hierarchy of civil society. Although they are quite distant from the refined societies of Europe, they still view the more primitive tribes of Africa and America as being almost equal in distance from themselves. If we were to categorize humanity into five general classes—each with countless subdivisions—we might place the more civilized Sumatrans in the third class, while the others would fall into the fourth. In the first class, I would include some of the renowned republics of ancient Greece during their prime, the Romans before and during the Augustan period, France, England, and other advanced nations of Europe in more recent centuries, and possibly China. The second class could encompass the great Asian empires at their peak, such as Persia, the Mughal Empire, the Ottoman Empire, along with some European kingdoms. The third class would include the Sumatrans and a few other nations from the eastern archipelago, as well as the countries along the northern coast of Africa and the more cultured Arabs. The fourth class would consist of the less civilized Sumatrans and would also include the people from newly discovered islands in the South Seas, possibly the famous Mexican and Peruvian empires, the Tartar tribes, and all those societies across the globe that have personal property and some form of established authority, ranking just above the Caribs, the indigenous people of Australia, the Sami, and the Hottentots, who represent humanity in its most primitive and degrading form.
FEW IMPROVEMENTS ADOPTED FROM EUROPEANS.
Few improvements adopted from Europeans.
As mankind are by nature so prone to imitation it may seem surprising that these people have not derived a greater share of improvement in manners an arts from their long connection with Europeans, particularly with the English, who have now been settled among them for a hundred years. Though strongly attached to their own habits they are nevertheless sensible of their inferiority, and readily admit the preference to which our attainments in science, and especially in mechanics, entitle us. I have heard a man exclaim, after contemplating the structure and uses of a house-clock, "Is it not fitting that such as we should be slaves to people who have the ingenuity to invent, and the skill to construct, so wonderful a machine as this?" "The sun," he added, "is a machine of this nature." "But who winds it up?" said his companion. "Who but Allah," he replied. This admiration of our superior attainments is however not universal; for, upon an occasion similar to the above, a Sumatran observed, with a sneer, "How clever these people are in the art of getting money."
As humans are naturally inclined to imitate, it might seem surprising that these people haven't gained more improvement in manners and arts from their long connection with Europeans, especially the English, who have been settled among them for a hundred years. Although they are strongly attached to their own customs, they are still aware of their inferiority and readily acknowledge the superiority that our accomplishments in science, particularly in mechanics, give us. I once heard a man exclaim, after looking at the design and function of a house clock, "Isn't it fitting that we should be subservient to people who have the creativity to invent and the skill to create such an amazing machine?" "The sun," he added, "is a machine like this." "But who winds it up?" asked his friend. "Who but Allah," he replied. However, this admiration for our superior achievements isn't universal; during a similar conversation, a Sumatran remarked with a sneer, "How clever these people are at making money."
Some probable causes of this backwardness may be suggested. We carry on few or no species of manufacture at our settlements; everything is imported ready wrought to its highest perfection; and the natives therefore have no opportunity of examining the first process, or the progress of the work. Abundantly supplied with every article of convenience from Europe, and prejudiced in their favour because from thence, we make but little use of the raw materials Sumatra affords. We do not spin its cotton; we do not rear its silkworms; we do not smelt its metals; we do not even hew its stone: neglecting these, it is in vain we exhibit to the people, for their improvement in the arts, our rich brocades, our timepieces, or display to them in drawings the elegance of our architecture. Our manners likewise are little calculated to excite their approval and imitation. Not to insist on the licentiousness that has at times been imputed to our communities; the pleasures of the table; emulation in wine; boisterous mirth; juvenile frolics, and puerile amusements, which do not pass without serious, perhaps contemptuous, animadversion--setting these aside it appears to me that even our best models are but ill adapted for the imitation of a rude, incurious, and unambitious people. Their senses, not their reason, should be acted on, to rouse them from their lethargy; their imaginations must be warmed; a spirit of enthusiasm must pervade and animate them before they will exchange the pleasures of indolence for those of industry. The philosophical influence that prevails and characterizes the present age in the western world is unfavourable to the producing these effects. A modern man of sense and manners despises, or endeavours to despise, ceremony, parade, attendance, superfluous and splendid ornaments in his dress or furniture: preferring ease and convenience to cumbrous pomp, the person first in rank is no longer distinguished by his apparel, his equipage, or his number of servants, from those inferior to him; and though possessing real power is divested of almost every external mark of it. Even our religious worship partakes of the same simplicity. It is far from my intention to condemn or depreciate these manners, considered in a general scale of estimation. Probably, in proportion as the prejudices of sense are dissipated by the light of reason, we advance towards the highest degree of perfection our natures are capable of; possibly perfection may consist in a certain medium which we have already stepped beyond; but certainly all this refinement is utterly incomprehensible to an uncivilized mind which cannot discriminate the ideas of humility and meanness. We appear to the Sumatrans to have degenerated from the more splendid virtues of our predecessors. Even the richness of their laced suits and the gravity of their perukes attracted a degree of admiration; and I have heard the disuse of the large hoops worn by the ladies pathetically lamented. The quick, and to them inexplicable, revolutions of our fashions, are subject of much astonishment, and they naturally conclude that those modes can have but little intrinsic merit which we are so ready to change; or at least that our caprice renders us very incompetent to be the guides of their improvement. Indeed in matters of this kind it is not to be supposed that an imitation should take place, owing to the total incongruity of manners in other respects, and the dissimilarity of natural and local circumstances. But perhaps I am superfluously investigating minute and partial causes of an effect which one general one may be thought sufficient to produce. Under the frigid, and more especially the torrid zone, the inhabitants will naturally preserve an uninterrupted similarity and consistency of manners, from the uniform influence of their climate. In the temperate zones, where this influence is equivocal, the manners will be fluctuating, and dependent rather on moral than physical causes.
Some likely reasons for this backwardness can be identified. We have few, if any, manufacturing activities in our settlements; everything is imported already made and perfected, so the locals have no chance to see the initial stages or the process of the work. Completely supplied with all the convenience items from Europe and biased in their favor because of their origin, we make little use of the raw materials that Sumatra provides. We don’t spin its cotton, raise its silkworms, smelt its metals, or even cut its stone. Ignoring these aspects, it’s pointless to show the locals our luxurious brocades, our clocks, or to illustrate our architecture’s elegance in drawings for their improvement in the arts. Our behaviors are also not designed to earn their approval and imitation. Without even considering the immorality sometimes attributed to our communities; the joys of good food, competition in drinking, loud laughter, youthful pranks, and childish activities often attract serious or even contemptuous criticism—if we set these aside, it seems to me that even our best examples are poorly suited for the imitation of a rough, indifferent, and unambitious people. Their senses, not their reasoning, need to be engaged to wake them from their complacency; their imaginations need to be ignited; they must feel a spirit of enthusiasm before they will trade the comforts of laziness for those of hard work. The philosophical influence that dominates and characterizes this era in the Western world is not conducive to producing these outcomes. A modern person who is sensible and well-mannered often looks down upon or tries to dismiss ceremony, display, unnecessary and elaborate decorations in their clothing or furnishings: preferring comfort and functionality over cumbersome grandeur. The person of highest rank is no longer distinguished by their clothing, their possessions, or the number of servants they have; even those with real power often lack any visible markers of it. Our religious practices reflect this same simplicity. It is not my intention to criticize or undervalue these behaviors when viewed on a larger scale. Perhaps as our sensory biases are cleared by reason, we move closer to the highest level of perfection our nature can achieve; possibly perfection lies within a balance we may have already surpassed; but certainly, all this refinement is completely incomprehensible to an uncivilized mind that cannot differentiate the concepts of humility and lowliness. To the Sumatrans, we seem to have declined from the more impressive virtues of our ancestors. Even the elegance of their elaborate outfits and the seriousness of their wigs drew admiration; I’ve even heard their sorrow over the decline of the large hoops once worn by women. The fast and to them incomprehensible changes in our fashion are a source of great surprise, and they naturally reason that modes lacking in intrinsic value are easily changed; or at least that our whims make us very unfit to be their guides in improvement. Indeed, in matters like this, it isn't reasonable to expect imitation due to the profound differences in manners and the dissimilarity of natural and local conditions. But perhaps I am unnecessarily exploring small, specific reasons for an effect that one overarching reason could account for. In the cold and especially in the hot zones, inhabitants will naturally maintain a constant similarity and consistency in manners due to the uniform influence of their climate. In temperate zones, where this influence is mixed, manners will be variable and more dependent on moral than physical causes.
DIFFERENCE IN CHARACTER BETWEEN THE MALAYS AND OTHER SUMATRANS.
DIFFERENCE IN CHARACTER BETWEEN THE MALAYS AND OTHER SUMATRANS.
The Malays and the other native Sumatrans differ more in the features of their mind than in those of their person. Although we know not that this island, in the revolutions of human grandeur, ever made a distinguished figure in the history of the world (for the Achinese, though powerful in the sixteenth century, were very low in point of civilization) yet the Malay inhabitants have an appearance of degeneracy, and this renders their character totally different from that which we conceive of a savage, however justly their ferocious spirit of plunder on the eastern coast may have drawn upon them that name. They seem rather to be sinking into obscurity, though with opportunities of improvement, than emerging from thence to a state of civil or political importance. They retain a strong share of pride, but not of that laudable kind which restrains men from the commission of mean and fraudulent actions. They possess much low cunning and plausible duplicity, and know how to dissemble the strongest passions and most inveterate antipathy beneath the utmost composure of features till the opportunity of gratifying their resentment offers. Veracity, gratitude, and integrity are not to be found in the list of their virtues, and their minds are almost strangers to the sentiments of honour and infamy. They are jealous and vindictive. Their courage is desultory, the effect of a momentary enthusiasm which enables them to perform deeds of incredible desperation; but they are strangers to that steady magnanimity, that cool heroic resolution in battle, which constitutes in our idea the perfection of this quality, and renders it a virtue.* Yet it must be observed that, from an apathy almost paradoxical, they suffer under sentence of death, in cases where no indignant passions could operate to buoy up the mind to a contempt of punishment, with astonishing composure and indifference; uttering little more on these occasions than a proverbial saying, common among them, expressive of the inevitability of fate--apa buli buat? To this stoicism, their belief in predestination, and very imperfect ideas of a future, eternal existence, doubtless contribute.
The Malays and other native Sumatrans differ more in their mindset than in their physical appearance. Even though this island hasn't played a prominent role in the grand history of humanity (since the Achinese, despite their power in the 16th century, were quite low in terms of civilization), the Malay people give off an impression of decline. This makes their character completely different from what we typically think of as savage, no matter how much their fierce plundering spirit along the eastern coast might have earned them that label. They seem to be fading into obscurity, despite having opportunities for improvement, rather than rising to a state of civil or political significance. They hold on to a strong sense of pride, but it doesn’t lead them to avoid petty and deceitful actions. They are quite cunning and duplicitous, able to hide their strongest feelings and deep-seated grudges behind calm expressions until they can take advantage of a chance to express their resentment. Traits like honesty, gratitude, and integrity are not part of their virtues, and they are largely unfamiliar with concepts of honor and shame. They are envious and vengeful. Their bravery is fleeting, arising from momentary enthusiasm that allows them to commit acts of extraordinary daring; however, they lack the steady courage and cool-headed resolve in battle that we consider the ideal form of bravery and a true virtue.* It should be noted that, in an almost paradoxical apathy, they face death sentences with astonishing calm and indifference, often saying little more than a common proverb that reflects the inevitability of fate—apa buli buat? Their stoicism, along with their belief in predestination and limited ideas about an eternal afterlife, certainly plays a role in this.
(*Footnote. In the history of the Portuguese wars in this part of the East there appear some exceptions to this remark, and particularly in the character of Laksamanna (his title of commander-in-chief being mistaken for his proper name), who was truly a great man and most consummate warrior.)
(*Footnote. In the history of the Portuguese wars in this part of the East, there are some exceptions to this observation, especially regarding Laksamanna (his title of commander-in-chief being mistaken for his actual name), who was genuinely a remarkable individual and an exceptional warrior.)
Some writer has remarked that a resemblance is usually found between the disposition and qualities of the beasts proper to any country and those of the indigenous inhabitants of the human species, where an intercourse with foreigners has not destroyed the genuineness of their character. The Malay may thus be compared to the buffalo and the tiger. In his domestic state he is indolent, stubborn, and voluptuous as the former, and in his adventurous life he is insidious, bloodthirsty, and rapacious as the latter. Thus also the Arab is said to resemble his camel, and the placid Hindu his cow.
Some writer has pointed out that there's often a similarity between the behavior and traits of the animals native to a country and those of its indigenous people, especially when their character hasn't been altered by foreign influences. The Malay can be compared to both the buffalo and the tiger. In his everyday life, he is lazy, stubborn, and indulgent like the buffalo, and in more daring situations, he is sneaky, bloodthirsty, and greedy like the tiger. Similarly, the Arab is said to resemble his camel, while the calm Hindu is compared to his cow.
CHARACTER OF NATIVE SUMATRANS.
CHARACTER OF LOCAL SUMATRANS.
The Sumatran of the interior country, though he partakes in some degree of the Malayan vices, and this partly from the contagion of example, possesses many exclusive virtues; but they are more properly of the negative than the positive kind. He is mild, peaceable, and forbearing, unless his anger be roused by violent provocation, when he is implacable in his resentments. He is temperate and sober, being equally abstemious in meat and drink. The diet of the natives is mostly vegetable; water is their only beverage; and though they will kill a fowl or a goat for a stranger, whom perhaps they never saw before, nor ever expect to see again, they are rarely guilty of that extravagance for themselves; nor even at their festivals (bimbang), where there is a plenty of meat, do they eat much of anything but rice. Their hospitality is extreme, and bounded by their ability alone. Their manners are simple; they are generally, except among the chiefs, devoid of the Malay cunning and chicane; yet endued with a quickness of apprehension, and on many occasions discovering a considerable degree of penetration and sagacity. In respect to women they are remarkably continent, without any share of insensibility. They are modest; particularly guarded in their expressions; courteous in their behaviour; grave in their deportment, being seldom or never excited to laughter; and patient to a great degree. On the other hand, they are litigious; indolent; addicted to gaming; dishonest in their dealings with strangers, which they esteem no moral defect; suspicious; regardless of truth; mean in their transactions; servile; though cleanly in their persons, dirty in their apparel, which they never wash. They are careless and improvident of the future, because their wants are few, for though poor they are not necessitous; nature supplying, with extraordinary facility, whatever she has made requisite for their existence. Science and the arts have not, by extending their views, contributed to enlarge the circle of their desires; and the various refinements of luxury, which in polished societies become necessaries of life, are totally unknown to them. The Makassar and Bugis people, who come annually in their praws from Celebes to trade at Sumatra, are looked up to by the inhabitants as their superiors in manners. The Malays affect to copy their style of dress, and frequent allusions to the feats and achievements of these people are made in their songs. Their reputation for courage, which certainly surpasses that of all other people in the eastern seas, acquires them this flattering distinction. They also derive part of the respect paid them from the richness of the cargoes they import, and the spirit with which they spend the produce in gaming, cock-fighting, and opium-smoking.
The Sumatran people from the interior, while they do exhibit some of the negative traits common among Malays, have many unique virtues; however, these are largely of a negative nature rather than positive. They are gentle, peaceful, and patient unless their anger is provoked, in which case they hold grudges. They are moderate and sober, showing restraint in their food and drink. Their diet mainly consists of vegetables, and water is their only drink; while they might kill a chicken or a goat for a guest they’ve never met before and probably won’t see again, they rarely indulge in such extravagance for themselves. Even at their feasts (bimbang), where there is plenty of meat, they mostly eat rice. Their hospitality is generous and only limited by what they can provide. They have simple manners and, except among the chiefs, they lack the cunning and trickery typical of the Malays, yet they are quick-witted and often display significant insight and intelligence. Regarding women, they are notably restrained but not insensitive. They are modest, careful with their words, polite in behavior, serious in demeanor, rarely laughing, and patient to a large extent. However, they are also prone to disputes, lazy, fond of gambling, dishonest in dealings with outsiders (which they don’t see as a moral failing), suspicious, indifferent to truth, petty in business, and servile; although they are tidy in personal hygiene, their clothing is dirty and seldom washed. They are careless and not foresighted about the future because their needs are few; though poor, they do not suffer from extreme deprivation, as nature easily provides what they need to survive. Neither science nor arts have broadened their outlook, so the luxurious refinement that becomes essential in more cultured societies is completely foreign to them. The Makassar and Bugis people, who come annually in their boats from Celebes to trade in Sumatra, are regarded by the locals as more refined. The Malays try to imitate their clothing style, and their songs frequently reference the exploits of these people. Their reputation for bravery, which certainly exceeds that of other groups in the eastern seas, earns them this flattering admiration. They also gain respect from the wealth of the goods they bring in and the enthusiasm with which they spend those resources on gambling, cock-fighting, and opium-smoking.
GOVERNMENT.
GOVERNMENT.
Having endeavoured to trace the character of these people with as much fidelity and accuracy as possible, I shall now proceed to give an account of their government, laws, customs, and manners; and, in order to convey to the reader the clearest ideas in my power, I shall develop the various circumstances in such order and connection as shall appear best to answer this intent, without confining myself, in every instance, to a rigid and scrupulous arrangement under distinct heads.
Having tried to accurately capture the character of these people, I will now provide an overview of their government, laws, customs, and behaviors. To present the clearest ideas possible, I will discuss the different aspects in an order and connection that seems most effective for this purpose, without strictly adhering to a rigid framework under specific categories.
REJANGS DIVIDED INTO TRIBES.
REJANGS ARE DIVIDED INTO TRIBES.
The Rejang people, whom, for reasons before assigned, I have fixed upon for a standard of description, but which apply generally to the orang ulu, or inhabitants of the inland country, are distinguished into tribes, the descendants of different ancestors. Of these there are four principal, who are said to trace their origin to four brothers, and to have been united from time immemorial in a league offensive and defensive; though it may be presumed that the permanency of this bond of union is to be attributed rather to considerations of expediency resulting from their situation than to consanguinity or any formal compact.
The Rejang people, whom I've chosen as a model for description for reasons previously mentioned, but which also generally apply to the orang ulu, or the people living in the inland areas, are divided into tribes that are descendants of various ancestors. There are four main tribes, which are believed to trace their roots back to four brothers, and they have been united in a defensive and offensive alliance for as long as anyone can remember. However, it's likely that the lasting nature of this bond is more about practical reasons due to their circumstances than about blood relations or any official agreement.
THEIR GOVERNMENT.
THEIR GOVERNMENT.
The inhabitants live in villages, called dusun, each under the government of a headman or magistrate, styled dupati, whose dependants are termed his ana-buah, and in number seldom exceed one hundred. The dupatis belonging to each river (for here, the villages being almost always situated by the waterside, the names we are used to apply to countries or districts are properly those of the rivers) meet in a judicial capacity at the kwalo, where the European factory is established, and are then distinguished by the name of proattin.
The residents live in villages called dusun, each governed by a headman or magistrate known as dupati, whose dependents are referred to as his ana-buah, and typically number no more than one hundred. The dupatis from each river (since the villages are almost always located by the water, the names we usually use for countries or areas are actually those of the rivers) gather in a judicial capacity at the kwalo, where the European trading post is situated, and are then identified by the name proattin.
PANGERAN.
PRINCE.
The pangeran (a Javanese title), or feudal chief of the country, presides over the whole. It is not an easy matter to describe in what consists the fealty of a dupati to his pangeran, or of his ana-buah to himself, so very little in either case is practically observed. Almost without arts, and with but little industry, the state of property is nearly equal among all the inhabitants, and the chiefs scarcely differ but in title from the bulk of the people.
The pangeran (a Javanese title), or feudal chief of the country, leads everyone. It's not straightforward to explain the loyalty of a dupati to his pangeran, or of his ana-buah to him, since very little of it is actually practiced. With minimal skills and little effort, property almost levels out among all the inhabitants, and the chiefs hardly differ from the general population, except for their titles.
HIS AUTHORITY.
HIS POWER.
Their authority is no more than nominal, being without that coercive power necessary to make themselves feared and implicitly obeyed. This is the natural result of poverty among nations habituated to peace; where the two great political engines of interest and military force are wanting. Their government is founded in opinion, and the submission of the people is voluntary. The domestic rule of a private family beyond a doubt suggested first the idea of government in society, and, this people having made but small advances in civil policy, theirs continues to retain a strong resemblance of its original. It is connected also with the principle of the feudal system, into which it would probably settle should it attain to a greater degree of refinement. All the other governments throughout the island are likewise a mixture of the patriarchal and feudal; and it may be observed that, where a spirit of conquest has reduced the inhabitants under the subjection of another power, or has added foreign districts to their dominion, there the feudal maxims prevail: where the natives, from situation or disposition, have long remained undisturbed by revolutions, there the simplicity of patriarchal rule obtains; which is not only the first and natural form of government of all rude nations rising from imperceptible beginnings, but is perhaps also the highest state of perfection at which they can ultimately arrive. It is not in this art alone that we perceive the next step from consummate refinement, leading to simplicity.
Their authority is mostly just for show, lacking the force needed to make themselves feared and automatically obeyed. This is a natural outcome of poverty among nations used to peace, where the two key drivers of interest and military power are absent. Their government is based on public opinion, and the people's compliance is voluntary. The way a private family governs itself likely inspired the concept of government in society, and since this society hasn’t progressed much in civil policy, their system still looks very much like its original form. It’s also linked to the principle of the feudal system, which it might evolve into if it becomes more refined. All other governments on the island are similarly a mix of patriarchal and feudal systems; it can be noted that in areas where conquest has brought the inhabitants under external control or added foreign regions to their rule, feudal principles dominate. In contrast, where the locals have long remained unaffected by revolutions, the straightforward nature of patriarchal governance persists. This is not only the first and natural form of government for all early societies starting from small beginnings, but it may also represent the highest level of development they can ultimately achieve. It is not just in this aspect that we can see the next move from total refinement to simplicity.
MUCH LIMITED.
VERY LIMITED.
The foundation of right to government among these people seems, as I said, to be the general consent. If a chief exerts an undue authority, or departs from their long established customs and usages, they conceive themselves at liberty to relinquish their allegiance. A commanding aspect, an insinuating manner, a ready fluency in discourse, and a penetration and sagacity in unravelling the little intricacies of their disputes, are qualities which seldom fail to procure to their possessor respect and influence, sometimes perhaps superior to that of an acknowledged chief. The pangean indeed claims despotic sway, and as far as he can find the means scruples not to exert it; but, his revenues being insufficient to enable him to keep up any force for carrying his mandates into execution, his actual powers are very limited, and he has seldom found himself able to punish a turbulent subject any otherwise than by private assassination. In appointing the heads of dusuns he does little more than confirm the choice already made among the inhabitants, and, were he arbitrarily to name a person of a different tribe or from another place, he would not be obeyed. He levies no tax, nor has any revenue (what he derives from the India Company being out of the question), or other emolument from his subjects than what accrues to him from the determination of causes. Appeals lie to him in all cases, and none of the inferior courts or assemblies of proattins are competent to pronounce sentence of death. But, all punishments being by the laws of the country commutable for fines, and the appeals being attended with expense and loss of time, the parties generally abide by the first decision. Those dusuns which are situated nearest to the residence of the pangeran, at Sungey-lamo, acknowledge somewhat more of subordination than the distant ones, which even in case of war esteem themselves at liberty to assist or not, as they think proper, without being liable to consequences. In answer to a question on this point, "we are his subjects, not his slaves," replied one of the proattins. But from the pangeran you hear a tale widely different. He has been known to say, in a political conversation, "such and such dusuns there will be no trouble with; they are my powder and shot;" explaining himself by adding that he could dispose of the inhabitants, as his ancestors had done, to purchase ammunition in time of war.
The basis of the right to govern among these people seems, as I mentioned, to be general consent. If a chief exerts excessive authority or strays from their long-established customs and practices, they believe they have the right to withdraw their loyalty. A commanding presence, an engaging demeanor, a smooth way of speaking, and sharp insight in untangling the small complexities of their conflicts are qualities that often earn someone respect and influence, sometimes even more than that of a recognized chief. The pangeran indeed claims absolute power, and as much as he can, he does not hesitate to exercise it; however, since his income is insufficient to maintain any force to enforce his commands, his actual power is quite limited, and he rarely finds himself able to punish a rebellious subject in any way other than through private assassination. When appointing the heads of dusuns, he mostly just confirms the choice already made by the locals, and if he were to arbitrarily name someone from a different tribe or area, he wouldn't be obeyed. He doesn't levy taxes or have any revenue (what he receives from the India Company is off the table) or any other income from his subjects aside from what he gains from settling disputes. All cases can be appealed to him, and none of the lower courts or assemblies of proattins can hand down a death sentence. However, since all punishments under the country's laws can be replaced by fines, and appeals come with costs and time loss, the parties generally accept the initial decision. The dusuns located closest to the pangeran's residence in Sungey-lamo show a bit more subordination than the more distant ones, which believe they have the right to choose whether to assist in times of war without facing consequences. In response to a question on this topic, one proattin remarked, "We are his subjects, not his slaves." But from the pangeran, you hear a different story. He has been known to say in political discussions, "I won't have any issues with such and such dusuns; they are my powder and shot," explaining that he could use the inhabitants, just as his ancestors did, to buy ammunition when war arises.
ORIGIN OF THE PANGERAN IN RAJANG.
ORIGIN OF THE PANGERAN IN RAJANG.
The father of Pangeran Mangko Raja (whose name is preserved from oblivion by the part he took in the expulsion of the English from Fort Marlborough in the year 1719) was the first who bore the title of pangeran of Sungey-lamo. He had before been simply Baginda Sabyam. Until about a hundred years ago the southern coast of Sumatra as far as Urei River was dependant on the king of Bantam, whose Jennang (lieutenant or deputy) came yearly to Silebar or Bencoolen, collected the pepper and filled up the vacancies by nominating, or rather confirming in their appointments, the proattins. Soon after that time, the English having established a settlement at Bencoolen, the jennang informed the chiefs that he should visit them no more, and, raising the two headmen of Sungey-lamo and Sungey-itam (the latter of whom is chief of the Lemba country in the neighbourhood of Bencoolen River; on which however the former possesses some villages, and is chief of the Rejang tribes), to the dignity of pangeran, gave into their hands the government of the country, and withdrew his master's claim. Such is the account given by the present possessors of the origin of their titles, which nearly corresponds with the recorded transactions of the period. It followed naturally that the chief thus invested should lay claim to the absolute authority of the king whom he represented, and on the other hand that the proattins should still consider him but as one of themselves, and pay him little more than nominal obedience. He had no power to enforce his plea, and they retain their privileges, taking no oath of allegiance, nor submitting to be bound by any positive engagement. They speak of him however with respect, and in any moderate requisition that does not affect their adat or customs they are ready enough to aid him (tolong, as they express it), but rather as matter of favour than acknowledged obligation.
The father of Pangeran Mangko Raja (whose name is remembered for his role in driving the English out of Fort Marlborough in 1719) was the first to hold the title of pangeran of Sungey-lamo. He had previously been known simply as Baginda Sabyam. Until about a hundred years ago, the southern coast of Sumatra, up to the Urei River, was under the rule of the king of Bantam, whose Jennang (lieutenant or deputy) came every year to Silebar or Bencoolen to collect pepper and confirm the proattins in their positions. Shortly after that time, with the English establishing a settlement in Bencoolen, the jennang informed the chiefs that he would no longer visit them. He elevated the two headmen of Sungey-lamo and Sungey-itam (the latter being the chief of the Lemba country near Bencoolen River, where the former also held some villages and was chief of the Rejang tribes) to the rank of pangeran, handing over the governance of the area and retracting his master's claim. This account is what the current titleholders say about the origin of their titles, which aligns closely with the recorded events of that time. Naturally, the chief thus appointed claimed the absolute authority of the king he represented, while the proattins still viewed him as one of them and offered him little more than nominal respect. He had no power to enforce his claim, so they maintained their privileges, taking no oath of allegiance or submitting to any binding agreements. They do, however, refer to him with respect, and for any reasonable requests that do not interfere with their adat or customs, they are willing to assist him (tolong, as they put it), but more as a favor than a recognized obligation.
The exemption from absolute subjection, which the dupatis contend for, they allow in turn to their ana-buahs, whom they govern by the influence of opinion only. The respect paid to one of these is little more than as to an elder of a family held in esteem, and this the old men of the dusun share with him, sitting by his side in judgment on the little differences that arise among themselves. If they cannot determine the cause, or the dispute be with one of a separate village, the neighbouring proattins of the same tribe meet for the purpose. From these litigations arise some small emoluments to the dupati, whose dignity in other respects is rather an expense than an advantage. In the erection of public works, such as the ballei or town hall, he contributes a larger share of materials. He receives and entertains all strangers, his dependants furnishing their quotas of provision on particular occasions; and their hospitality is such that food and lodging are never refused to those by whom they are required.
The exemption from total control that the dupatis argue for is something they also extend to their ana-buahs, whom they lead mainly through social influence. The respect shown to these individuals is similar to that given to a respected family elder, and this status is shared by the elder men of the dusun, who sit beside him to help settle minor disputes among themselves. If they can’t resolve the issue, or if the dispute involves someone from a different village, the neighboring proattins of the same tribe come together to address it. These disputes generate some minor earnings for the dupati, but in other ways, his role tends to be more of a burden than a benefit. When it comes to building public works like the ballei or town hall, he contributes a larger portion of materials. He also receives and hosts all visitors, with his dependents providing their share of food on specific occasions; their hospitality is such that they never turn away anyone in need of food and shelter.
SUCCESSION OF DUPATIS.
DUPATI SUCCESSION.
Though the rank of dupati is not strictly hereditary the son, when of age and capable, generally succeeds the father at his decease: if too young, the father's brother, or such one of the family as appears most qualified, assumes the post; not as a regent but in his own right; and the minor comes in perhaps at the next vacancy. If this settlement happens to displease any portion of the inhabitants they determine amongst themselves what chief they will follow, and remove to his village, or a few families, separating themselves from the rest, elect a chief, but without contesting the right of him whom they leave. The chiefs, when nominated, do not however assume the title of dupati until confirmed by the pangeran, or by the Company's Resident. On every river there is at least one superior proattin, termed a pambarab, who is chosen by the rest and has the right or duty of presiding at those suits and festivals in which two or more villages are concerned, with a larger allotment of the fines, and (like Homer's distinguished heroes) of the provisions also. If more tribes than one are settled on the same river each has usually its pambarab. Not only the rivers or districts but indeed each dusun is independent of, though not unconnected with, its neighbours, acting in concert with them by specific consent.
Although the rank of dupati isn’t strictly passed down by inheritance, the son generally takes over from his father when he reaches adulthood and is capable. If the son is too young, the father’s brother, or another qualified family member, steps in—not as a regent but in his own right—until the son is old enough to take over, possibly at the next opportunity. If this arrangement doesn’t sit well with some of the residents, they decide among themselves which chief to follow and may move to that chief's village, or a few families might separate from the rest and elect a chief without disputing the rights of the one they’re leaving. However, the chiefs don’t take on the title of dupati until they are confirmed by the pangeran or by the Company’s Resident. Every river has at least one superior proattin called a pambarab, who’s chosen by the others and has the responsibility to preside over disputes and festivals involving multiple villages, receiving a larger share of fines and provisions, much like the heroes of Homer. If more than one tribe lives along the same river, each typically has its own pambarab. Each river or district, as well as each dusun, operates independently, though they maintain connections and collaborate through mutual agreement.
INFLUENCE OF THE EUROPEANS.
EUROPEAN INFLUENCE.
The system of government among the people near the sea-coast, who, towards the southern extreme of the island, are the planters of pepper, is much influenced by the power of the Europeans, who are virtually the lords paramount, and exercise in fact many of the functions of sovereignty. The advantages derived to the subject from their sway, both in a political and civil sense, are infinitely greater than persons at a distance are usually inclined to suppose. Oppressions may be some times complained of at the hands of individuals, but, to the honour of the Company's service let me add, they have been very rare and of inconsiderable magnitude. Where a degree of discretionary power is intrusted to single persons abuses will, in the nature of things, arise in some instances; cases may occur in which the private passions of the Resident will interfere with his public duty; but the door has ever been open for redress, and examples have been made. To destroy this influence and authority in order to prevent these consequences were to cut off a limb in order to remove a partial complaint. By the Company's power the districts over which it extends are preserved in uninterrupted peace. Were it not for this power every dusun of every river would be at war with its neighbour. The natives themselves allow it, and it was evinced, even in the short space of time during which the English were absent from the coast, in a former war with France. Hostilities of district against district, so frequent among the independent nations to the northward, are, within the Company's jurisdiction, things unheard of; and those dismal catastrophes which in all the Malayan islands are wont to attend on private feuds but very rarely happen. "I tell you honestly," said a dupati, much irritated against one of his neighbours, "that it is only you," pointing to the Resident of Laye, "that prevents my plunging this weapon into his breast." The Resident is also considered as the protector of the people from the injustice and oppression of the chiefs. This oppression, though not carried on in the way of open force, which the ill-defined nature of their authority would not support, is scarcely less grievous to the sufferer. Expounders of the law, and deeply versed in the chicanery of it, they are ever lying in wait to take advantage of the necessitous and ignorant, till they have stripped them of their property, their family, and their personal liberty. To prevent these practices the partial administration of justice in consequence of bribes, the subornation of witnesses, and the like iniquities, a continual exertion of the Resident's attention and authority is required, and, as that authority is accidentally relaxed, the country falls into confusion.
The government system among the coastal people, who grow pepper in the southern part of the island, is heavily influenced by the Europeans, who essentially act as the top rulers and carry out many sovereign duties. The benefits that the people receive from their rule, both politically and socially, are far greater than what outsiders usually think. While there may be occasional complaints about individual oppressors, it's worth noting that these instances are quite rare and generally minor. When some discretionary power is given to individuals, there will naturally be some abuses; there may be times when the personal feelings of the Resident conflict with their public responsibilities, but there has always been a way to seek redress, and accountability has been maintained. To eliminate this influence and authority in order to prevent such issues would be like amputating a limb to address a local pain. Thanks to the Company's authority, the regions it governs enjoy consistent peace. Without this power, every settlement along every river would be at war with its neighbors. The locals acknowledge this, as seen even in the brief period when the English were absent during a previous war with France. Conflicts between districts, which are common among the independent nations to the north, are unheard of within the Company's jurisdiction, and the grim outcomes of personal feuds that often occur in other Malayan islands rarely take place here. "Honestly," said a dupati, irritated with a neighbor, "it's only you," pointing to the Resident of Laye, "who stops me from driving this weapon into his chest." The Resident is also seen as a protector against the chiefs' injustices and oppression. This oppression, while not overtly violent due to the vague nature of their authority, is still very painful for those affected. Experts in the law who know how to manipulate it, they are always looking to exploit the needy and uninformed, stripping them of their property, families, and personal freedoms. To combat these practices—like biased justice due to bribes, witness tampering, and other wrongdoings—the Resident must constantly focus their attention and authority, and when that authority weakens even slightly, chaos ensues in the country.
It is true that this interference is not strictly consonant with the spirit of the original contracts entered into by the Company with the native chiefs, who, in consideration of protection from their enemies, regular purchase of the produce of their country, and a gratuity to themselves proportioned to the quantity of that produce, undertake on their part to oblige their dependants to plant pepper, to refrain from the use of opium, the practice of gaming, and other vicious excesses, and to punish them in case of non-compliance. But, however prudent or equal these contracts might have been at the time their form was established, a change of circumstances, the gradual and necessary increase of the Company's sway which the peace and good of the country required, and the tacit consent of the chiefs themselves (among whom the oldest living have never been used to regard the Company, who have conferred on them their respective dignities, as their equals, or as trading in their districts upon sufferance), have long antiquated them; and custom and experience have introduced in their room an influence on one side, and a subordination on the other, more consistent with the power of the Company and more suitable to the benefits derived from the moderate and humane exercise of that power. Prescription has given its sanction to this change, and the people have submitted to it without murmuring, as it was introduced not suddenly but with the natural course of events, and bettered the condition of the whole while it tended to curb the rapacity of the few. Then let not short-sighted or designing persons, upon false principles of justice, or ill-digested notions of liberty, rashly endeavour to overturn a scheme of government, doubtless not perfect, but which seems best adapted to the circumstances it has respect to, and attended with the fewest disadvantages. Let them not vainly exert themselves to procure redress of imaginary grievances, for persons who complain not, or to infuse a spirit of freedom and independence, in a climate where nature possibly never intended they should flourish, and which, if obtained, would apparently be attended with effects that all their advantages would badly compensate.
It's true that this interference doesn't completely align with the original agreements made by the Company with the local chiefs, who, in exchange for protection from their enemies, regular purchases of their country's produce, and payments based on the amount of that produce, agreed to require their people to plant pepper, avoid opium use, refrain from gambling and other harmful behaviors, and punish those who didn't comply. However sensible these agreements might have been when they were first made, changing circumstances, the gradual and necessary rise of the Company's influence for the peace and good of the country, and the unspoken agreement of the chiefs themselves (who, for generations, have not viewed the Company, which granted them their titles, as equals or merely trading in their territories with permission), have effectively made them outdated. Instead, customs and experiences have brought about a one-sided influence and a subordination that better aligns with the Company's power and the benefits gained from its moderate and humane application. This change has been legitimized over time, and the people have accepted it without complaint, as it was introduced gradually and improved everyone's situation while curbing the greed of a few. So, let not short-sighted or manipulative individuals, driven by misguided ideas of justice or poorly thought-out notions of freedom, recklessly try to dismantle a government system that, while not perfect, seems best suited to the current circumstances and has the least drawbacks. Let them not foolishly strive to address imagined grievances from those who do not complain or to instill a spirit of freedom and independence in an environment where nature likely never intended it to thrive, which, if achieved, would likely lead to consequences that would far outweigh any benefits gained.
GOVERNMENT IN PASSUMMAH.
GOVERNMENT IN PASSUMMAH.
In Passummah, which nearly borders upon Rejang, to the southward, there appears some difference in the mode of government, though the same spirit pervades both; the chiefs being equally without a regular coercive power, and the people equally free in the choice of whom they will serve. This is an extensive and comparatively populous country, bounded on the north by that of Lamattang, and on the south-east by that of Lampong, the river of Padang-guchi marking the division from the latter, near the sea-coast. It is distinguished into Passummah lebbar, or the broad, which lies inland, extending to within a day's journey of Muaro Mulang, on Palembang River; and Passummah ulu Manna, which is on the western side of the range of hills, whither the inhabitants are said to have mostly removed in order to avoid the government of Palembang.
In Passummah, which is close to Rejang to the south, there's a noticeable difference in the way things are governed, even though both places share a similar spirit. The chiefs have no real authoritative power, and the people have the freedom to choose who they want to serve. This area is large and relatively populated, bordered to the north by Lamattang and to the southeast by Lampong, with the Padang-guchi River marking the boundary with the latter near the coast. It is divided into Passummah lebbar, or the broad region, which lies inland and stretches to within a day's journey of Muaro Mulang on the Palembang River; and Passummah ulu Manna, which is located on the western side of the hill range, where most of the inhabitants are said to have moved to escape the governance of Palembang.
It is governed by four pangerans, who are independent of each other but acknowledge a kind of sovereignty in the sultan of Palembang, from whom they hold a chap (warrant) and receive a salin (investiture) on their accession. This subordination is the consequence of the king of Bantam's former influence over this part of the island, Palembang being a port anciently dependent on him, and now on the Dutch, whose instrument the sultan is. There is an inferior pangeran in almost every dusun (that title being nearly as common in Passummah as dupati towards the sea-coast) who are chosen by the inhabitants, and confirmed by the superior pangeran, whom they assist in the determination of causes. In the low country, where the pepper-planters reside, the title of kalippah prevails; which is a corruption of the Arabic word khalifah, signifying a vicegerent. Each of these presides over various tribes, which have been collected at different times (some of them being colonists from Rejang, as well as from a country to the eastward of them, named Haji) and have ranged themselves, some under one and some under another chief; having also their superior proattin, or pambarab, as in the northern districts. On the rivers of Peeno, Manna, and Bankannon are two kalippahs respectively, some of whom are also pangerans, which last seems to be here rather a title of honour, or family distinction, than of magistracy. They are independent of each other, owning no superior; and their number, according to the ideas of the people, cannot be increased.
It is governed by four pangerans, who are independent from each other but recognize a sort of authority in the sultan of Palembang, from whom they receive a chap (warrant) and a salin (investiture) when they take office. This subordination results from the past influence of the king of Bantam over this part of the island, with Palembang being a port that was historically dependent on him and now on the Dutch, whose representative the sultan is. There is a lesser pangeran in almost every dusun (that title is nearly as common in Passummah as dupati along the coast) who are chosen by the locals and confirmed by the senior pangeran, whom they help in resolving issues. In the lowlands, where the pepper farmers live, the title of kalippah is used; this is derived from the Arabic word khalifah, meaning vicegerent. Each of these leads various tribes that have been gathered over time (some are colonists from Rejang, as well as from a region to the east called Haji) and have aligned themselves with different leaders; they also have their superior proattin, or pambarab, as seen in the northern districts. Along the rivers of Peeno, Manna, and Bankannon, there are two kalippahs each, some of whom are also pangerans, with the latter title seeming more like an honorific or a mark of family distinction rather than a position of authority. They are independent from each other, recognizing no higher authority, and the local belief is that their number cannot be increased.
CHAPTER 12.
LAWS AND CUSTOMS. MODE OF DECIDING CAUSES.
CODE OF LAWS.
LAWS AND CUSTOMS. HOW TO DECIDE CASES.
CODE OF LAWS.
LAWS OR CUSTOMS.
Laws or traditions.
There is no word in the languages of the island which properly and strictly signifies law; nor is there any person or class of persons among the Rejangs regularly invested with a legislative power. They are governed in their various disputes by a set of long-established customs (adat), handed down to them from their ancestors, the authority of which is founded on usage and general consent. The chiefs, in pronouncing their decisions, are not heard to say, "so the law directs," but "such is the custom." It is true that, if any case arises for which there is no precedent on record (of memory), they deliberate and agree on some mode that shall serve as a rule in future similar circumstances. If the affair be trifling that is seldom objected to; but when it is a matter of consequence the pangeran, or kalippah (in places where such are present), consults with the proattins, or lower order of chiefs, who frequently desire time to consider of it, and consult with the inhabitants of their dusun. When the point is thus determined the people voluntarily submit to observe it as an established custom; but they do not acknowledge a right in the chiefs to constitute what laws they think proper, or to repeal or alter their ancient usages, of which they are extremely tenacious and jealous. It is notwithstanding true that, by the influence of the Europeans, they have at times been prevailed on to submit to innovations in their customs; but, except when they perceived a manifest advantage from the change, they have generally seized an opportunity of reverting to the old practice.
There’s no word in the island's languages that accurately means law, nor is there anyone among the Rejangs who has official legislative power. Instead, they resolve their various disputes based on a set of long-standing customs (adat) passed down from their ancestors, which derive their authority from tradition and general agreement. When chiefs make their decisions, they say, "this is how we do things," rather than "this is the law." If a situation comes up that has no past precedent, they discuss and agree on a new rule that will apply in similar cases in the future. People usually don’t object to this in minor matters, but for significant issues, the pangeran or kalippah (in areas where they are present) consults with the proattins, or lower chiefs, who often ask for time to think it over and discuss with the residents of their dusun. Once a decision is made, the people willingly agree to follow it as an established custom; however, they do not recognize the chiefs' right to create laws at will or to change or abolish their ancient customs, which they value highly. However, it is true that, influenced by Europeans, they have sometimes been convinced to agree to changes in their customs; yet except when they see clear benefits from these changes, they usually take the chance to return to old practices.
MODE OF DECIDING CAUSES.
METHOD OF DECIDING CASES.
All causes, both civil and criminal, are determined by the several chiefs of the district, assembled together at stated times for the purpose of distributing justice. These meetings are called becharo (which signifies also to discourse or debate), and among us, by an easy corruption, bechars. Their manner of settling litigations in points of property is rather a species of arbitration, each party previously binding himself to submit to the award, than the exertion of a coercive power possessed by the court for the redress of wrongs.
All civil and criminal cases are resolved by the various leaders of the district, who meet regularly to administer justice. These gatherings are called becharo (which also means to discuss or debate), and among us, they are often referred to as bechars. Their way of resolving disputes over property is more like arbitration, with each party agreeing in advance to abide by the decision, rather than a use of force that the court has to correct wrongs.
The want of a written criterion of the laws and the imperfect stability of traditionary usage must frequently, in the intricacies of their suits, give rise to contradictory decisions; particularly as the interests and passions of the chiefs are but too often concerned in the determination of the causes that come before them.
The lack of a written set of laws and the unreliable nature of traditional practices often lead to conflicting decisions in the complexities of their cases; especially since the interests and emotions of the leaders are frequently involved in the outcomes of the cases they handle.
COMPILATION OF LAWS.
Collection of laws.
This evil had long been perceived by the English Residents, who, in the countries where we are settled, preside at the bechars, and, being instigated by the splendid example of the Governor-general of Bengal (Mr. Hastings), under whose direction a code of the laws of that empire was compiled (and translated by Mr. Halhed), it was resolved that the servants of the Company at each of the subordinates should, with the assistance of the ablest and most experienced of the natives, attempt to reduce to writing and form a system of the usages of the Sumatrans in their respective residencies. This was accordingly executed in some instances, and, a translation of that compiled in the residency of Laye coming into my possession, I insert it here, in the original form, as being attended with more authority and precision than any account furnished from my own memorandums could pretend to.
This issue had been recognized for a long time by the English Residents, who oversee the settlements where we are located. Inspired by the excellent example set by the Governor-General of Bengal (Mr. Hastings), under whose guidance a code of laws for that empire was created (and translated by Mr. Halhed), it was decided that the Company's officials at each of the subordinate locations should, with help from the most qualified and experienced locals, try to document and establish a system of the Sumatrans' customs in their respective areas. This was accomplished in some cases, and since I obtained a translation of the document compiled in the residency of Laye, I'm including it here in its original form, as it holds more authority and accuracy than any account I could create from my own notes.
REJANG LAWS.
REJANG LAWS.
For the more regular and impartial administration of justice in the Residency of Laye, the laws and customs of the Rejangs, hitherto preserved by tradition, are now, after being discussed, amended, and ratified, in an assembly of the pangeran, pambarabs, and proattins, committed to writing in order that they may not be liable to alteration; that those deserving death or fine may meet their reward; that causes may be brought before the proper judges, and due amends made for defaults; that the compensation for murder may be fully paid; that property may be equitably divided; that what is borrowed may be restored; that gifts may become the undoubted property of the receiver; that debts may be paid and credits received agreeably to the customs that have been ever in force beneath the heavens and on the face of the earth. By the observance of the laws a country is made to flourish, and where they are neglected or violated ruin ensues.
For a more consistent and fair administration of justice in the Residency of Laye, the laws and customs of the Rejangs, previously upheld by tradition, have now been discussed, revised, and approved in a meeting of the pangeran, pambarabs, and proattins. These laws have been recorded to prevent any changes; so that those deserving of death or fines receive their punishment; that cases can be presented before the appropriate judges, and proper reparations made for any wrongs; that full compensation is provided for murder; that property is divided fairly; that borrowed items are returned; that gifts become the clear property of the recipient; and that debts are settled and credits acknowledged according to the customs that have always been in effect on earth. By following the laws, a country thrives, but neglecting or breaking them leads to disaster.
BECHARS, SUITS, OR TRIALS.
Bargains, deals, or lawsuits.
PROCESS IN SUITS.
PROCESS IN LAWSUITS.
The plaintiff and defendant first state to the bench the general circumstances of the case. If their accounts differ, and they consent to refer the matter to the decision of the proattins or bench, each party is to give a token, to the value of a suku, that he will abide by it, and to find security for the chogo, a sum stated to them, supposed to exceed the utmost probable damages.
The plaintiff and defendant first present to the judge the general details of the case. If their stories don’t match and they agree to let the judge decide, each party must provide a token worth a suku as a sign that they will accept the decision and also provide security for the chogo, which is an amount determined to be more than the maximum likely damages.
If the chogo do not exceed 30 dollars the bio or fee paid by each is 1 1/4 dollars.
If the chogo do not exceed 30 to 50 dollars the bio or fee paid by each is 2 1/2 dollars.
If the chogo do not exceed 50 to 100 dollars the bio or fee paid by each is 5 dollars.
If the chogo do not exceed 100 dollars and upwards the bio or fee paid by each is 9 dollars.
If the chogo is $30 or less, the bio or fee paid by each person is $1.25.
If the chogo is over $30 but not more than $50, the bio or fee paid by each person is $2.50.
If the chogo is over $50 but not more than $100, the bio or fee paid by each person is $5.
If the chogo is over $100, the bio or fee paid by each person is $9.
All chiefs of dusuns, or independent tallangs, are entitled to a seat on the bench upon trials.
All village chiefs, or independent leaders, have the right to a seat on the bench during trials.
If the pangeran sits at the bechar he is entitled to one half of all bio, and of such fines, or shares of fines, as fall to the chiefs, the pambarabs, and other proattins dividing the remainder.
If the prince sits at the bechar, he gets half of all bio, along with any fines or shares of fines that are distributed to the chiefs, the pambarabs, and other proattins dividing the rest.
If the pangeran be not present the pambarabs have one-third, and the other proattins two-thirds of the foregoing. Though a single pambarab only sit he is equally entitled to the above one-third. Of the other proattins five are requisite to make a quorum.
If the prince isn't present, the pambarabs get one-third, and the other proattins get two-thirds of what was mentioned before. Even if there’s only one pambarab sitting, he still has the right to that one-third. To form a quorum, five of the other proattins are needed.
No bechar, the chogo of which exceeds five dollars, to be held by the proattins, except in the presence of the Company's Resident, or his assistant.
No bechar, the chogo of which is over five dollars, can be held by the proattins unless the Company's Resident or his assistant is present.
If a person maliciously brings a false accusation and it is proved such, he is liable to pay a sum equal to that which the defendant would have incurred had his design succeeded; which sum is to be divided between the defendant and the proattins, half and half.
If someone maliciously makes a false accusation and it's proven, they have to pay an amount equal to what the defendant would have faced if their plan had worked. This amount will be split evenly between the defendant and the proattins.
The fine for bearing false witness is twenty dollars and a buffalo.
The penalty for lying under oath is twenty dollars and a buffalo.
The punishment of perjury is left to the superior powers (orang alus). Evidence here is not delivered on previous oath.
The punishment for perjury is left to the higher authorities (orang alus). In this case, evidence is not presented under a previous oath.
LAWS OF INHERITANCE.
Inheritance Laws.
If the father leaves a will, or declares before witnesses his intentions relative to his effects or estate, his pleasure is to be followed in the distribution of them amongst his children.
If the father leaves a will, or states his intentions regarding his possessions or estate in front of witnesses, his wishes should be followed in distributing them among his children.
If he dies intestate and without declaring his intentions the male children inherit, share and share alike, except that the house and pusako (heirlooms, or effects on which, from various causes, superstitious value is placed) devolve invariably to the eldest.
If he dies without a will and without stating his wishes, the male children inherit equally, but the house and pusako (heirlooms or items deemed to have superstitious value for various reasons) always go to the eldest.
The mother (if by the mode of marriage termed jujur, which, with the other legal terms, will be hereafter explained) and the daughters are dependant on the sons.
The mother (if we refer to the type of marriage called jujur, which, along with other legal terms, will be explained later) and the daughters rely on the sons.
If a man, married by semando, dies, leaving children, the effects remain to the wife and children. If the woman dies, the effects remain to the husband and children. If either dies leaving no children the family of the deceased is entitled to half the effects.
If a man, married by semando, dies and leaves behind children, the assets go to the wife and kids. If the woman dies, the assets go to the husband and kids. If either of them dies without children, the family of the deceased is entitled to half of the assets.
OUTLAWRY.
OUTLAW STATUS.
Any person unwilling to be answerable for the debts or actions of his son or other relation under his charge may outlaw him, by which he, from that period, relinquishes all family connexion with him, and is no longer responsible for his conduct.
Anyone who doesn't want to be accountable for the debts or actions of their son or another relative they are responsible for can disown them, which means they cut all family ties from that point on and are no longer responsible for their behavior.
The outlaw to be delivered up to the Resident or pangeran, accompanied with his writ of outlawry, in duplicate, one copy to be lodged with the Resident, and one with the outlaw's pambarab.
The outlaw will be handed over to the Resident or pangeran, along with his writ of outlawry in two copies, one to be filed with the Resident and the other with the outlaw's pambarab.
The person who outlaws must pay all debts to that day.
The person who is outlawed must settle all debts up to that day.
On amendment, the outlaw may be recalled to his family, they paying such debts as he may have contracted whilst outlawed, and redeeming his writ by payment of ten dollars and a goat, to be divided among the pangeran and pambarabs.
On amending his status, the outlaw may be brought back to his family, who will pay off any debts he may have accumulated while being an outlaw, and he can regain his standing by paying ten dollars and a goat, which will be shared between the pangeran and pambarabs.
If an outlaw commits murder he is to suffer death.
If a criminal commits murder, he will face the death penalty.
If murdered, a bangun, or compensation, of fifty dollars, is to be paid for him to the pangeran.
If someone is murdered, a bangun, or compensation, of fifty dollars must be paid to the prince.
If an outlaw wounds a person he becomes a slave to the Company or pangeran for three years. If he absconds and is afterwards killed no bangun is to be paid for him.
If an outlaw injures someone, he becomes a slave to the Company or pangeran for three years. If he runs away and is later killed, no bangun will be paid for him.
If an outlaw wounds a person and is killed in the scuffle no bangun is to be paid for him.
If a criminal injures someone and is killed in the fight, no compensation is to be paid for him.
If the relations harbour an outlaw they are held willing to redeem him, and become answerable for his debts.
If the relatives take in an outlaw, they are considered willing to rescue him and become responsible for his debts.
THEFT.
Theft.
A person convicted of theft pays double the value of the goods stolen, with a fine of twenty dollars and a buffalo, if they exceed the value of five dollars: if under five dollars the fine is five dollars and a goat; the value of the goods still doubled.
A person found guilty of theft must pay twice the value of the stolen goods, along with a fine of twenty dollars and a buffalo if the value exceeds five dollars. If the value is under five dollars, the fine is five dollars and a goat, with the value of the goods still being doubled.
All thefts under five dollars, and all disputes for property, or offences to that amount, may be compromised by the proattins whose dependants are concerned.
All thefts under five dollars, and all disputes over property or offenses involving that amount, can be settled by the representatives of those involved.
Neither assertion nor oath of the prosecutor are sufficient for conviction without token (chino) of the robbery, namely, some article recovered of the goods stolen; or evidence sufficient.
Neither the claims nor the oath of the prosecutor are enough for a conviction without evidence (chino) of the robbery, specifically, some item recovered from the stolen goods; or sufficient evidence.
If any person, having permission to pass the night in the house of another, shall leave it before daybreak, without giving notice to the family, he shall be held accountable for any thing that may be that night missing.
If someone has permission to stay overnight at another person's house and leaves before dawn without informing the family, they will be responsible for any items that go missing that night.
If a person passing the night in the house of another does not commit his effects to the charge of the owner of it, the latter is not accountable if they are stolen during the night. If he has given them in charge, and the stranger's effects only are lost during the night, the owner of the house becomes accountable. If effects both of the owner and lodger are stolen, each is to make oath to the other that he is not concerned in the robbery, and the parties put up with their loss, or retrieve it as they can.
If someone spends the night at another person’s home and doesn’t entrust their belongings to the owner, the owner isn’t responsible if those items are stolen during the night. If the guest has given their items to the owner and only the guest's belongings are lost overnight, then the owner is responsible. If both the owner’s and the guest’s belongings are stolen, each must swear to the other that they weren’t involved in the theft, and both parties have to deal with their loss or try to recover their items as best as they can.
Oaths are usually made on the koran, or at the grave of an ancestor, according as the Mahometan religion prevails more or less. The party intended to be satisfied by the oath generally prescribes the mode and purport of it.
Oaths are typically taken on the Quran or at an ancestor's grave, depending on how much the Muslim religion is followed. The person who will be satisfied by the oath usually determines how it should be taken and what it should mean.
BANGUN, OR COMPENSATION FOR MURDER.
BANGUN, OR PAYOUT FOR MURDER.
The bangun or compensation for the murder of a pambarab is 500 dollars.
The bangun or compensation for the murder of an inferior proattin is 250 dollars.
The bangun or compensation for the murder of a common person, man or boy, is 80 dollars.
The bangun or compensation for the murder of a common person, woman or girl, is 150 dollars.
The bangun or compensation for the murder of the legitimate children or wife of a pambarab is 250 dollars.
The bangun or compensation for the murder of a pambarab is $500.
The bangun or compensation for the murder of an inferior proattin is $250.
The bangun or compensation for the murder of a common person, man or boy, is $80.
The bangun or compensation for the murder of a common person, woman or girl, is $150.
The bangun or compensation for the murder of the legitimate children or wife of a pambarab is $250.
Exclusive of the above, a fine of fifty dollars and a buffalo as tippong bumi (expiation), is to be paid on the murder of a pambarab; of twenty dollars and a buffalo on the murder of any other; which goes to the pambarab and proattins.
Exclusive of the above, a fine of fifty dollars and a buffalo as tippong bumi (expiation) must be paid for the murder of a pambarab; for the murder of any other, the fine is twenty dollars and a buffalo. This goes to the pambarab and proattins.
The bangun of an outlaw is fifty dollars without tippong bumi.
The fee for an outlaw is fifty dollars without tipping.
No bangun is to be paid for a person killed in the commission of a robbery.
No bangun is to be paid for someone killed during a robbery.
The bangun of pambarabs and proattins is to be divided between the pangeran and pambarabs one half; and the family of the deceased the other half.
The distribution of the bangun of pambarabs and proattins will be divided between the pangeran and pambarabs, with one half going to them and the other half going to the family of the deceased.
The bangun of private persons is to be paid to their families; deducting the adat ulasan of ten per cent to the pambarabs and proattins.
The payment for private individuals goes to their families, after deducting the customary fee of ten percent for the pambarabs and proattins.
If a man kills his slave he pays half his price as bangun to the pangeran, and the tippong bumi to the proattins.
If a man kills his slave, he pays half the slave's value as compensation to the prince, and the tippong bumi to the proattins.
If a man kills his wife by jujur he pays her bangun to her family, or to the proattins, according as the tali kulo subsists or not.
If a man kills his wife through jujur, he compensates her family or the proattins, depending on whether the tali kulo exists or not.
If a man kills or wounds his wife by semando he pays the same as for a stranger.
If a man kills or injures his wife by semando, he pays the same as he would for a stranger.
If a man wounds his wife by jujur slightly he pays one tail or two dollars.
If a man slightly injures his wife, he pays one tail or two dollars.
If a man wounds his wife by jujur with a weapon and an apparent intention of killing her he pays a fine of twenty dollars.
If a man injures his wife with a weapon and clearly intends to kill her, he has to pay a fine of twenty dollars.
If the tali kulo (tie of relationship) is broken the wife's family can no longer claim bangun or fine: they revert to the proattins.
If the tali kulo (tie of relationship) is broken, the wife's family can no longer claim bangun or fine; they go back to being proattins.
If a pambarab wounds his wife by jujur he pays five dollars and a goat.
If a pambarab injures his wife by jujur, he pays five dollars and a goat.
If a pambarab's daughter, married by jujur, is wounded by her husband he pays five dollars and a goat.
If a pambarab's daughter, married through jujur, is harmed by her husband, he pays five dollars and a goat.
For a wound occasioning the loss of an eye or limb or imminent danger of death half the bangun is to be paid.
For a wound that results in the loss of an eye or limb, or poses an immediate threat to life, half the bangun is to be paid.
For a wound on the head the pampas or compensation is twenty dollars.
For a head injury, the compensation is twenty dollars.
For other wounds the pampas from twenty dollars downwards.
For other wounds, the price ranges from twenty dollars and up.
If a person is carried off and sold beyond the hills the offender, if convicted, must pay the bangun. If the person has been recovered previous to the trial the offender pays half the bangun.
If someone is taken away and sold over the hills, the offender, if found guilty, must pay the bangun. If the person has been recovered before the trial, the offender pays half the bangun.
If a man kills his brother he pays to the proattins the tippong bumi.
If a man kills his brother, he pays the proattins the tippong bumi.
If a wife kills her husband she must suffer death.
If a wife kills her husband, she must face the death penalty.
If a wife by semando wounds her husband her relations must pay what they would receive if he wounded her.
If a wife causes injuries to her husband, her family must pay what they would receive if he injured her.
DEBTS AND CREDITS.
Debts and Credits.
DEBTS.
Debt.
On the death of a person in debt (unless he die an outlaw, or married byambel-anak) his nearest relation becomes accountable to the creditors.
On the death of a person in debt (unless they die an outlaw or are married under custom law), their closest relative becomes responsible to the creditors.
Of a person married by ambel-anak the family he married into is answerable for debts contracted during the marriage: such as were previous to it his relations must pay.
Of a person married through ambel-anak, the family they married into is responsible for debts incurred during the marriage; debts that were incurred before the marriage must be paid by their relatives.
A father, or head of a family, has hitherto been in all cases liable to the debts of his sons, or younger relations under his care; but to prevent as much as possible his suffering by their extravagance it is now resolved:
A father, or head of a family, has always been responsible for the debts of his sons or younger relatives under his care; however, to minimize the impact of their extravagance on him, it has now been decided:
That if a young unmarried man (bujang) borrows money, or purchases goods without the concurrence of his father, or of the head of his family, the parent shall not be answerable for the debt. Should the son use his father's name in borrowing it shall be at the lender's risk if the father disavows it.
That if a young unmarried man (bujang) borrows money or buys goods without his father's or the head of the family’s approval, the parent won’t be responsible for the debt. If the son uses his father's name to borrow, it will be the lender's risk if the father denies it.
If any person gives credit to the debtor of another (publicly known as such, either in the state of mengiring, when the whole of his labour belongs to the creditor, or of be-blah, when it is divided) the latter creditor can neither disturb the debtor for the sum nor oblige the former to pay it. He must either pay the first debt (membulati, consolidate) or let his claim lie over till the debtor finds means to discharge it.
If someone lends money to another person's debtor (who is known as such, either in the state of mengiring, when all their earnings go to the creditor, or in the state of be-blah, when it's split), the second creditor can't bother the debtor for the amount owed or force the first lender to pay it. They must either settle the first debt (membulati, consolidate) or wait until the debtor can pay it off.
Interest of money has hitherto been three fanams per dollar per month, or one hundred and fifty per cent per annum. It is now reduced to one fanam, or fifty per cent per annum, and no person is to receive more, under penalty of fine, according to the circumstances of the case.
Interest on money has previously been three fanams per dollar per month, which is one hundred and fifty percent per year. It is now reduced to one fanam, or fifty percent per year, and no one is allowed to receive more, with penalties based on the circumstances of the case.
No more than double the principal can in any case be recovered at law. A person lending money at interest, and letting it lie over beyond two years, loses the surplus.
No more than double the principal can be recovered in any case. If someone lends money at interest and leaves it for more than two years, they lose the excess.
No pepper-planter to be taken as a debtor mengiring, under penalty of forty dollars.
No pepper-planter is to be considered a debtor, with a penalty of forty dollars for violation.
A planter in debt may engage in any work for hire that does not interfere with the care of his garden, but must on no account mengiring, even though his creditor offers to become answerable for the care of his garden.
A planter who is in debt can take on any paid work as long as it doesn’t disrupt the care of their garden, but under no circumstances should they let someone else take care of their garden, even if their creditor offers to handle it.
If a debtor mengiring absconds from his master (or creditor, who has a right to his personal service) without leave of absence he is liable to an increase of debt at the rate of three fanams per day. Females have been hitherto charged six fanams, but are now put upon a footing the same as the men.
If a debtor runs away from his master (or creditor, who has a right to his personal services) without permission, he will incur an additional debt of three fanams for each day he is absent. Women were previously charged six fanams, but now they are treated the same as men.
If a debtor mengiring, without security, runs away, his debt is liable to be doubled if he is absent above a week.
If a debtor who owes money, without any security, skips town, their debt is likely to double if they are gone for more than a week.
If a man takes a person mengiring, without security for the debt, should the debtor die in that predicament the creditor loses his money, having no claim on the relations for it.
If a man takes someone as a guarantor without security for the debt, and the debtor dies under those circumstances, the creditor loses his money because he has no claim on the debtor's relatives for it.
If a person takes up money under promise of mengiring at a certain period, should he not perform his agreement he must pay interest for the money at one fanam per dollar per month.
If someone borrows money with the promise to pay it back at a certain time, and fails to keep that promise, they must pay interest on the loan at the rate of one fanam per dollar per month.
If a person, security for another, is obliged to pay the debt he is entitled to demand double from the debtor; but this claim to be moderated according to circumstances.
If a person who guaranteed someone else's debt has to pay it, they can ask the debtor to repay double; however, this claim should be adjusted based on the situation.
If a person sues for a debt which is denied the onus probandi lies with the plaintiff. If he fails in proof the defendant, on making oath to the justness of his denial, shall be acquitted.
If someone is suing for a debt that is denied, the burden of proof is on the person bringing the lawsuit. If they can't prove their case, the defendant, by swearing to the truth of their denial, will be cleared of the claim.
If a debtor taking care of a pepper garden, or one that gives half produce to his creditor (be-blah), neglects it, the person in whose debt he is must hire a man to do the necessary work; and the hire so paid shall be added to the debt. Previous notice shall however be given to the debtor, that he may if he pleases avoid the payment of the hire by doing the work himself.
If a debtor is tending to a pepper garden, or one who gives half of the produce to their creditor, neglects it, the creditor must hire someone to do the necessary work; and the cost of that hire will be added to the debt. However, the debtor must be given prior notice so that he can avoid the hire payment by doing the work himself if he wants to.
If a person's slave, or debtor mengiring, be carried off and sold beyond the hills the offender is liable to the bangun, if a debtor, or to his price, if a slave. Should the person be recovered the offender is liable to a fine of forty dollars, of which the person that recovers him has half, and the owner or creditor the remainder. If the offender be not secured the reward shall be only five dollars to the person that brings the slave, and three dollars the debtor, if on this side the hills; if from beyond the hills the reward is doubled.
If someone's slave or debtor is taken away and sold over the mountains, the offender has to pay a penalty. If it's a debtor, they pay their debt, and if it's a slave, they pay their value. If the person is brought back, the offender owes a fine of forty dollars, with the person who recovers them getting half and the owner or creditor receiving the rest. If the offender isn’t caught, the reward will only be five dollars for the person who brings the slave back, and three dollars for the debtor if they are on this side of the mountains; if they are from beyond the mountains, the reward is doubled.
LAWS REGARDING MARRIAGE.
MARRIAGE LAWS.
The modes of marriage prevailing hitherto have been principally by jujur, or by ambel-anak, the Malay semando being little used. The obvious ill consequences of the two former, from the debt or slavery they entailed upon the man that married, and the endless lawsuits they gave rise to, have at length induced the chiefs to concur in their being as far as possible laid aside; adopting in lieu of them the semando malayo, or mardiko, which they now strongly recommend to their dependants as free from the encumbrances of the other modes, and tending, by facilitating marriage, and the consequent increase of population, to promote the welfare of their country. Unwilling, however, to abolish arbitrarily a favourite custom of their ancestors, marriage by jujur is still permitted to take place, but under such restrictions as will, it is hoped, effectually counteract its hitherto pernicious consequences. Marriage by ambel-anak, which rendered a man and his descendants the property of the family he married into, is now prohibited, and none permitted for the future, but, by semando, or jujur, subject to the following regulations.
The types of marriage that have been common until now have mainly been through jujur or ambel-anak, with the Malay semando being rarely used. The clear negative effects of the first two methods, such as the debt or slavery they imposed on the husband and the endless legal disputes they created, have finally led the leaders to agree to set these aside as much as possible. Instead, they are adopting the semando malayo, or mardiko, which they now strongly recommend to their followers as free from the complications of the other methods. This approach is aimed at facilitating marriage and increasing the population, ultimately benefiting the country. However, out of respect for their ancestors, marriage by jujur is still allowed, but with restrictions intended to effectively address its previously harmful effects. Marriage by ambel-anak, which made a man and his descendants the property of the family he married into, is now banned, and in the future, only semando or jujur will be allowed, under the following regulations.
The jujur of a virgin (gadis) has been hitherto one hundred and twenty dollars: the adat annexed to it have been tulis-tanggil, fifteen dollars; upah daun kodo, six dollars, and tali kulo, five dollars:
The value of a virgin girl has been one hundred and twenty dollars; the customs attached to it have been documented as fifteen dollars; the fee for kodo leaves is six dollars, and the tie costs five dollars:
The jujur of a widow, eighty dollars, without the adat; unless her children by the former marriage went with her, in which case the jujur gadis was paid in full.
The jujur of a widow is eighty dollars, excluding the adat; unless her children from the previous marriage accompanied her, in which case the jujur gadis was fully paid.
It is now determined that, on a man's giving his daughter in marriage by jujur for the future, there shall, in lieu of the above, be fixed a sum not exceeding one hundred and fifty dollars, to be in full for jujur and all adat whatever. That this sum shall, when the marriage takes place, be paid upon the spot; that if credit is given for the whole, or any part, it shall not be recoverable by course of law; and as the sum includes the tali kulo, or bond of relationship, the wife thereby becomes the absolute property of the husband. The marriage by jujur being thus rendered equivalent to actual sale, and the difficulty enhanced by the necessity of paying the full price upon the spot, it is probable that the custom will in a great measure cease, and, though not positively, be virtually abolished. Nor can a lawsuit follow from any future jujur.
It is now established that when a man gives his daughter in marriage through jujur moving forward, a sum not exceeding one hundred and fifty dollars will be set, covering jujur and all related customs. This amount must be paid in full at the time of the marriage. If any part of it is put on credit, it cannot be recovered through legal means; and since this sum includes the tali kulo, or bond of relationship, the wife becomes the complete property of the husband. The marriage by jujur is now treated as a sale, and the requirement to pay the full amount upfront makes it likely that this custom will significantly diminish and, while not formally abolished, will effectively come to an end. No legal claims can arise from any future jujur.
The adat, or custom, of the semando malayo or mardiko, to be paid by the husband to the wife's family upon the marriage taking place, is fixed at twenty dollars and a buffalo, for such as can afford it; and at ten dollars and a goat, for the poorer class of people.
The custom of the semando malayo or mardiko, which is the payment made by the husband to the wife's family when they get married, is set at twenty dollars and a buffalo for those who can afford it, and at ten dollars and a goat for those in the poorer class.
Whatever may be acquired by either party during the subsistence of the marriage becomes joint property, and they are jointly liable to debts incurred, if by mutual consent. Should either contract debts without the knowledge and consent of the other the party that contracts must alone bear them in case of a divorce.
Whatever either person acquires during the marriage is considered shared property, and they are jointly responsible for any debts incurred with mutual agreement. If one person takes on debts without the other’s knowledge and consent, the person who incurred the debt will have to handle it alone in the event of a divorce.
If either party insists upon, or both agree in it, a divorce must follow. No other power can separate them. The effects, debts, and credits in all cases to be equally divided. If the man insists upon the divorce he pays a charo of twenty dollars to the wife's family, if he obtained her a virgin; if a widow, ten dollars. If the woman insists on the divorce no charo is to be paid. If both agree in it the man pays half the charo.
If either person insists on getting a divorce, or if both agree, the divorce must happen. No one else can separate them. The assets, debts, and credit in all situations will be equally divided. If the man wants the divorce, he has to pay a fee of twenty dollars to the woman's family if he married her when she was a virgin; if she was a widow, he pays ten dollars. If the woman wants the divorce, no fee is required. If both agree to it, the man pays half of the fee.
If a man married by semando dies--Vide Inheritance.
If a man married by semando dies—see Inheritance.
If a man carries off a woman with her consent, and is willing either to pay her price at once by jujur, or marry her by semando, as the father or relations please, they cannot reclaim the woman, and the marriage takes place.
If a man takes a woman with her consent and is ready to either pay her price immediately or marry her, as her father or relatives wish, they cannot take the woman back, and the marriage goes ahead.
If a man carries off a girl under age (which is determined by her not having her ears bored and teeth filed--bulum bertinde berdabong), though with her own consent, he pays, exclusive of the adat jujur, or semando, twenty dollars if she be the daughter of a pambarab, and ten dollars for the daughter of any other, whether the marriage takes place or not.
If a man takes a girl who isn't of age (defined as not having her ears pierced and teeth filed—bulum bertinde berdabong), even if she agrees, he owes twenty dollars, not including the adat jujur or semando, if she is the daughter of a pambarab, and ten dollars if she is the daughter of anyone else, regardless of whether they get married or not.
If a risau, or person without property and character, carries off a woman (though with her own consent) and can neither pay the jujur, nor adat semando, the marriage shall not take place, but the man be fined five dollars and a goat for misdemeanour. If she be under age, his fine ten dollars and a goat.
If a risau, or a person without property and character, takes a woman away (even with her consent) and can't pay the jujur or adat semando, the marriage won't happen, and the man will be fined five dollars and a goat for his wrongdoing. If she is underage, the fine will be ten dollars and a goat.
If a man has but one daughter, whom, to keep her near him, he wishes to give in marriage by semando; should a man carry her off, he shall not be allowed to keep her by jujur, though he offer the money upon the spot. If he refuses to marry her by semando, no marriage takes place, and he incurs a fine to the father of ten dollars and a goat.
If a man has only one daughter and wants to marry her off by semando to keep her close, if another man kidnaps her, he won't be allowed to keep her by jujur, even if he offers money right then. If he refuses to marry her by semando, the marriage doesn’t happen, and he has to pay the father a fine of ten dollars and a goat.
If a man carries off a woman under pretence of marriage he must lodge her immediately with some reputable family. If he carries her elsewhere, for a single night he incurs a fine of fifty dollars, payable to her parents or relations.
If a man takes a woman away pretending to marry her, he must immediately arrange for her to stay with a respectable family. If he takes her somewhere else, even for just one night, he faces a fine of fifty dollars, which must be paid to her parents or relatives.
If a man carries off a virgin against her inclination (me-ulih) he incurs a fine of twenty dollars and a buffalo: if a widow, ten dollars and a goat, and the marriage does not take place. If he commits a rape, and the parents do not choose to give her to him in marriage, he incurs a fine of fifty dollars.
If a man takes a virgin against her will, he owes a fine of twenty dollars and a buffalo; for a widow, it’s ten dollars and a goat, and the marriage won’t happen. If he commits rape, and the parents decide not to marry her off to him, he has to pay a fine of fifty dollars.
The adat libei, or custom of giving one woman in exchange for another taken in marriage, being a modification of the jujur, is still admitted of; but if the one be not deemed an equivalent for the other the necessary compensation (as the pangalappang, for nonage) must be paid upon the spot, or it is not recoverable by course of law. If a virgin is carried off (te-lari gadis) and another is given in exchange for her, by adat libei, twelve dollars must be paid with the latter as adat ka-salah.
The adat libei, or the custom of exchanging one woman for another taken in marriage, is still accepted, though it's a variation of jujur. However, if one isn’t considered an equivalent for the other, the required compensation (like pangalappang for being underage) must be paid immediately, or it can't be recovered through legal means. If a virgin is abducted (te-lari gadis) and another is offered in her place through adat libei, twelve dollars must be paid along with the latter as adat ka-salah.
A man married by ambel-anak may redeem himself and family on payment of the jujur and adat of a virgin before-mentioned.
A man who marries by ambel-anak can redeem himself and his family by paying the jujur and adat of the previously mentioned virgin.
The charo of a jujur marriage is twenty-five dollars. If the jujur be not yet paid in full and the man insists on a divorce he receives back what he has paid, less twenty-five dollars. If the woman insists no charo can be claimed by her relations. If the tali kulo is putus (broken) the wife is the husband's property and he may sell her if he pleases.
The charo for a jujur marriage is twenty-five dollars. If the jujur hasn't been fully paid and the man wants a divorce, he gets back what he has paid, minus twenty-five dollars. If the woman wants a divorce, her family can't claim any charo. If the tali kulo is broken, the wife becomes the property of the husband, and he can sell her if he wants.
If a man compels a female debtor of his to cohabit with him her debt, if the fact be proved, is thereby discharged, if forty dollars and upwards: if under forty the debt is cleared and he pays the difference. If she accuses her master falsely of this offence her debt is doubled. If he cohabits with her by her consent her parents may compel him to marry her, either by jujur or semando, as they please.
If a man forces a woman who owes him money to live with him, her debt, if proven, is considered paid off if it's forty dollars or more; if it's less than forty, the debt is cleared and he pays the difference. If she falsely accuses him of this offense, her debt is doubled. If he lives with her with her consent, her parents can make him marry her, either by jujur or semando, as they wish.
If an unmarried woman proves with child the man against whom the fact is proved must marry her; and they pay to the proattins a joint fine of twenty dollars and a buffalo. This fine, if the parties agree to it, may be levied in the country by the neighbouring proattins (without bringing it before the regular court).
If an unmarried woman proves she is pregnant, the man she identifies must marry her; and they will pay a joint fine of twenty dollars and a buffalo to the proattins. This fine can be collected in the area by nearby proattins if both parties agree, without needing to go through the regular court.
If a woman proves with child by a relation within the prohibited degrees they pay to the proattins a joint fine of twice fifty dollars and two buffaloes (hukum duo akup).
If a woman is found to be pregnant by a relative within the prohibited degrees, they will pay the authorities a joint fine of two hundred dollars and two buffaloes (hukum duo akup).
A marriage must not take place between relations within the third degree, or tungal nene. But there are exceptions for the descendants of females who, passing into other families, become as strangers. Of two brothers, the children may not intermarry. A sister's son may marry a brother's daughter; but a brother's son may not marry a sister's daughter.
A marriage cannot occur between relatives within the third degree, or tungal nene. However, there are exceptions for the descendants of females who, after marrying into other families, are considered strangers. The children of two brothers cannot marry each other. A sister's son may marry a brother's daughter, but a brother's son cannot marry a sister's daughter.
If relations within the prohibited degrees intermarry they incur a fine of twice fifty dollars and two buffaloes, and the marriage is not valid.
If people related within the prohibited degrees marry each other, they face a fine of one hundred dollars and two buffaloes, and the marriage is not valid.
On the death of a man married by jujur or purchase, any of his brothers, the eldest in preference, if he pleases, may succeed to his bed. If no brother chooses it they may give the woman in marriage to any relation on the father's side, without adat, the person who marries her replacing the deceased (mangabalu). If no relation takes her and she is given in marriage to a stranger he may be either adopted into the family to replace the deceased, without adot, or he may pay her jujur, or take her by semando, as her relations please.
Upon the death of a man who was married through jujur or purchase, any of his brothers, preferably the eldest, may take his place in his bed if he wishes. If no brother wants to do so, they can give the woman in marriage to any male relative on the father's side, without following adat, and the man who marries her will take the place of the deceased (mangabalu). If no relative takes her and she is married to a stranger, he can either be adopted into the family to replace the deceased, without adat, or he can pay her jujur, or take her by semando, based on her family's wishes.
If a person lies with a man's wife by force he is deserving of death; but may redeem his head by payment of the bangun, eighty dollars, to be divided between the husband and proattins.
If someone forcefully sleeps with a man's wife, they should be put to death; however, they can save themselves by paying the bangun, which is eighty dollars, to be split between the husband and proattins.
If a man surprises his wife in the act of adultery he may put both man and woman to death upon the spot, without being liable to any bangun. If he kills the man and spares his wife he must redeem her life by payment of fifty dollars to the proattins. If the husband spares the offender, or has only information of the fact from other persons, he may not afterwards kill him, but has his remedy at law, the fine for adultery being fifty dollars, to be divided between the husband and the proattins. If he divorces his wife on this account he pays no charo.
If a man catches his wife cheating, he can kill both her and her lover on the spot without facing any punishment. If he kills the man but spares his wife, he has to pay fifty dollars to the authorities to redeem her life. If the husband decides to let the offender go or only hears about the affair from others, he can't kill him later, but he can take legal action—the fine for adultery is fifty dollars, which will be split between him and the authorities. If he divorces his wife because of this, he doesn't have to pay any fees.
If a younger sister be first married, the husband pays six dollars, adat pelalu, for passing over the elder.
If a younger sister gets married first, the husband pays six dollars, adat pelalu, for skipping over the older sister.
GAMING.
Gaming.
All gaming, except cock-fighting at stated periods, is absolutely prohibited. The fine for each offence is fifty dollars. The person in whose house it is carried on, if with his knowledge, is equally liable to the fine with the gamesters. A proattin knowing of gaming in his dusun and concealing it incurs a fine of twenty dollars. One half of the fines goes to the informer, the other to the Company, to be distributed among the industrious planters at the yearly payment of the customs.
All gambling, except for cock-fighting at specified times, is completely banned. The fine for each offense is fifty dollars. The owner of the house where gambling takes place, if aware of it, is equally responsible for the fine along with the gamblers. A proattin who knows about gambling in his dusun and hides it faces a twenty dollar fine. Half of the fines go to the informer, while the other half goes to the Company, which will distribute it among the hardworking planters during the annual customs payment.
OPIUM FARM.
Opium farm.
The fine for the retailing of opium by any other than the person who farms the license is fifty dollars for each offence: one half to the farmer, and the other to the informer.
The fine for selling opium by anyone other than the person who holds the license is fifty dollars for each offense: half goes to the license holder, and the other half goes to the informant.
EXECUTIVE POWER.
EXECUTIVE AUTHORITY.
The executive power for enforcing obedience to these laws and customs, and for preserving the peace of the country, is, with the concurrence of the pangeran and proattins, vested in the Company's Resident.
The power to enforce compliance with these laws and customs, and to maintain order in the country, is held by the Company's Resident, with the agreement of the pangeran and proattins.
Done at Laye, in the month Rabia-al akhir, in the year of the Hejra 1193, answering to April 1779.
Done at Laye, in the month of Rabia-al akhir, in the year of the Hejra 1193, corresponding to April 1779.
JOHN MARSDEN, Resident.
JOHN MARSDEN, Local Resident.
LAWS OR ADAT OF MANNA.
LAWS OR CUSTOMS OF MANNA.
Having procured likewise a copy of the regulations sanctioned by the chiefs of the Passummah country assembled at Manna, I do not hesitate to insert it, not only as varying in many circumstances from the preceding, but because it may eventually prove useful to record the document.
Having also obtained a copy of the rules approved by the leaders of the Passummah country gathered at Manna, I feel confident in including it here, not only because it differs in many ways from the previous one, but also because it might be useful to keep a record of this document.
INHERITANCE.
Inheritance.
If a person dies having children these inherit his effects in equal portions, and become answerable for the debts of the deceased. If any of his brothers survive they may be permitted to share with their nephews, but rather as matter of courtesy than of right, and only when the effects of the deceased devolved to him from his father or grandfather. If he was a man of rank it is common for the son who succeeds him in title to have a larger share. This succession is not confined to the eldest born but depends much on private agreement in the family. If the deceased person leaves no kindred behind him the tribe to which he belonged shall inherit his effects, and be answerable for his debts.
If a person dies and has children, they inherit his belongings in equal shares and are responsible for his debts. If any of his brothers are still alive, they may be allowed to share with their nephews, but this is more about courtesy than a legal right, and only if the deceased inherited those belongings from his father or grandfather. If he was a person of high status, usually the son who takes over the title gets a bigger share. This inheritance isn’t limited to the eldest child but often depends on family agreements. If the deceased has no relatives, the tribe he belonged to will inherit his belongings and be responsible for his debts.
DEBTS.
Debts.
When a debt becomes due and the debtor is unable to pay his creditors, or has no effects to deposit, he shall himself, or his wife, or his children, live with the creditor as a bond-slave or slaves until redeemed by the payment of the debt.
When a debt is due and the debtor can't pay their creditors or doesn’t have any assets to put down, they, or their spouse, or their children, will live with the creditor as a bonded servant or servants until the debt is settled.
If a debt is contracted without any promise of interest none shall be demanded, although the debt be not paid until some time after it first became due. The rate of interest is settled at twenty per cent per annum; but in all suits relating to debts on interest, how long soever they may have been outstanding, the creditor shall not be entitled to more interest than may amount to a sum equal to the capital: if the debt is recent it shall be calculated as above. If any person lends to another a sum exceeding twenty-five dollars and sues for payment before the chiefs he shall be entitled only to one year's interest on the sum lent. If money is lent to the owner of a padi-plantation, on an agreement to pay interest in grain, and after the harvest is over the borrower omits to pay the stipulated quantity, the lender shall be entitled to receive at the rate of fifteen dollars for ten lent; and if the omission should be repeated another season the lender shall be entitled to receive double the principal. In all cases of debt contested the onus probandi lies with the demandant, who must make good his claim by creditable evidence, or in default thereof the respondent may by oath clear himself from the debt. On the other hand, if the respondent allows such a debt to have existed but asserts a previous payment, it rests with him to prove such payment by proper evidence, or in defect the demandant shall by oath establish his debt.
If a debt is taken on without any promise of interest, none can be demanded, even if the debt isn’t paid until some time after it was due. The rate of interest is set at twenty percent per year; however, in all cases involving debts with interest, no matter how long they’ve been overdue, the creditor can't claim more interest than the original amount of the debt. If the debt is new, it will be calculated as mentioned above. If someone lends another person more than twenty-five dollars and takes them to court, they can only claim one year's worth of interest on the amount lent. If money is lent to the owner of a rice plantation under an agreement to pay interest with grain, and after the harvest the borrower fails to pay the agreed amount, the lender can demand fifteen dollars for every ten lent; if this happens again in the next season, the lender can claim double the principal amount. In all debt disputes, the burden of proof is on the person making the claim, who must substantiate their case with credible evidence, or otherwise the respondent can swear themselves free from the debt. Conversely, if the respondent admits that a debt existed but argues that it was already paid, it’s up to them to provide proper proof of that payment; if they can’t, the claimant can establish their debt by oath.
EVIDENCE AND OATHS.
EVIDENCE AND OATHS.
EVIDENCE.
EVIDENCE.
In order to be deemed a competent and unexceptionable evidence person must be of a different family and dusun from the person in whose behalf he gives evidence, of good character, and a free man: but if the dispute be between two inhabitants of the same dusun persons of such dusun are allowed to be complete evidence. In respect to the oath taken by the principals in a dispute the hukuman (or comprehensive quality of the oath) depends on the nature of the property in dispute: if it relates to the effects of the grandfather the hukuman must extend to the descendants from the grandfather; if it relates to the effects of the father it extends to the descendants of the father, etc. If any of the parties proposed to be included in the operation of the oath refuse to subject themselves to the oath the principal in the suit loses his cause.
To be considered valid and reliable evidence, a person must belong to a different family and community (dusun) than the individual for whom they are providing testimony, must have a good reputation, and must be a free person. However, if the conflict is between two residents of the same community, individuals from that community are allowed to serve as complete evidence. Regarding the oath taken by the main parties in a dispute, the validity (hukuman) of the oath depends on the type of property in question: if it involves the belongings of a grandfather, the validity must include the descendants of that grandfather; if it involves the belongings of a father, it includes the father's descendants, and so on. If any party that is supposed to take the oath refuses to do so, the main party in the case loses their argument.
PAWNS OR PLEDGES.
Pawns or pledges.
If any person holding a pawn or pledge such as wearing-apparel, household effects, or krises, swords, or kujur (lances), shall pledge it for a larger sum than he advanced for it, he shall be answerable to the owner for the full value of it, on payment of the sum originally advanced. If any person holding as a pledge man, woman, or child shall pledge them to any other at an advanced sum, or without the knowledge of the owner, and by these means the person pledged should be sold as a slave, he shall make good to the owner the full value of such slave, and pay a fine of twenty-eight dollars. If any person whatever holding man, woman, or child as a pawn, either with janji lalu (term expired) or not, or with or without the consent of the original owner, shall sell such person as a slave without the knowledge of the Resident and Chiefs, he shall be fined twenty-eight dollars.
If anyone holding a pawn or pledge like clothing, household items, or weapons such as krises, swords, or lances, tries to pledge it for more than what they originally paid, they will be liable to the owner for the full value, after paying back the initial amount. If someone holds a person—man, woman, or child—as a pledge and tries to pledge them to someone else for more money, or without the owner's knowledge, and that person ends up being sold as a slave, they'll have to compensate the owner for the full value of that slave and pay a fine of twenty-eight dollars. If anyone holds a person—man, woman, or child—as a pawn, whether the term has expired or not, and sells that person as a slave without informing the Resident and Chiefs, they will also be fined twenty-eight dollars.
BUFFALOES.
Bison.
CATTLE.
Cattle.
All persons who keep buffaloes shall register at the godong (factoryhouse) their tingas or mark; and, in case any dispute shall arise about a marked buffalo, no person shall be allowed to plead a mark that is not registered. If any wild (stray) buffalo or buffaloes, unmarked, shall be taken in a kandang (staked inclosure) they shall be adjudged the property of any who takes upon himself to swear to them; and, if it should happen that two or more persons insist upon swearing to the same buffaloes, they shall be divided among them equally. If no individual will swear to the property the buffaloes are to be considered as belonging to the kalippah or magistrate of the district where they were caught. The person who takes any buffaloes in his kandang shall be entitled to a gratuity of two dollars per head. If any buffaloes get into a pepper-garden, either by day or night, the owner of the garden shall have liberty to kill them, without being answerable to the owner of the buffaloes: yet, if it shall appear on examination that the garden was not properly fenced, and from this defect suffers damage, the owner shall be liable to such fine as the Resident and Chiefs shall judge it proper to impose.
All individuals who own buffaloes must register their brands or marks at the factory house. If there's a dispute regarding a marked buffalo, no one can claim a mark that hasn't been registered. If any wild or unmarked buffaloes are captured in a fenced area, they will be claimed by whoever swears they belong to them. If two or more people claim the same buffaloes, they will be divided equally among them. If no one claims them, the buffaloes will be considered the property of the magistrate of the district where they were caught. The person who captures any buffaloes in their pen will receive a payment of two dollars for each head. If buffaloes enter a pepper garden, day or night, the garden owner can kill them without being held responsible to the buffalo owner. However, if it turns out that the garden wasn't properly fenced and incurs damage because of this, the owner will be fined as determined by the Resident and Chiefs.
THEFT.
Theft.
A person convicted of stealing money, wearing-apparel, household effects, arms, or the like shall pay the owner double the value of the goods stolen and be fined twenty-eight dollars. A person convicted of stealing slaves shall pay to the owner at the rate of eighty dollars per head, which is estimated to be double the value, and fined twentyeight dollars. A person convicted of stealing betel, fowls, or coconuts shall pay the owner double the value and be fined seven dollars, half of which fine is to be received by the owner. If buffaloes are stolen they shall be valued at twelve dollars per head: padi at four bakul (baskets) for the dollar. If the stolen goods be found in the possession of a person who is not able to account satisfactorily how he came by them he shall be deemed the guilty person. If a person attempting to seize a man in the act of thieving shall get hold of any part of his clothes which are known, or his kris or siwah, this shall be deemed a sufficient token of the theft. If two witnesses can be found who saw the stolen goods in possession of a third person such person shall be deemed guilty unless he can account satisfactorily how he became possessed of the goods. The oath taken by such witnesses shall either include the descendants of their father, or simply their own descendants, according to the discretion of the chiefs who sit as judges. If several people sleep in one house, and one of them leaves the house in the night without giving notice to any of the rest, and a robbery be committed in the house that night, the person so leaving the house shall be deemed guilty of the crime, provided the owner of the stolen goods be willing to subject himself to an oath on the occasion; and provided the other persons sleeping in the house shall clear themselves by oath from being concerned in the theft: but if it should happen that a person so convicted, being really innocent, should in after time discover the person actually guilty, he shall have liberty to bring his suit and recover. If several persons are sleeping in a house and a robbery is committed that night, although none leave the house the whole shall be obliged to make oath that they had no knowledge of, or concern in, the theft, or on refusal shall be deemed guilty. In all cases of theft where only a part of the stolen goods is found the owner must ascertain upon oath the whole amount of his loss.
A person found guilty of stealing money, clothes, household items, weapons, or similar things must pay the owner double the value of the stolen goods and face a fine of twenty-eight dollars. A person convicted of stealing slaves will owe the owner eighty dollars for each one, which is considered double the value, and also face a fine of twenty-eight dollars. A person found guilty of stealing betel, chickens, or coconuts must pay the owner double the value and be fined seven dollars, with half of that fine going to the owner. If buffaloes are stolen, they will be valued at twelve dollars each, and rice will be calculated at four baskets per dollar. If stolen goods are found with someone who cannot explain how they acquired them, that person will be considered guilty. If someone tries to catch a thief in the act and grabs part of their clothing or their kris or siwah, this will be seen as enough evidence of the theft. If two witnesses can confirm seeing stolen goods with another person, that person will be deemed guilty unless they can satisfactorily explain how they obtained the goods. The oath taken by these witnesses must either include their descendants or just their own children, depending on the discretion of the judges. If several people are sleeping in one house and one of them leaves during the night without telling anyone else, and a robbery occurs that night, the person who left will be considered guilty, as long as the owner of the stolen goods is willing to take an oath, and the others in the house can clear themselves by oath. If a person wrongfully convicted later discovers the actual thief, they can bring a suit and seek recovery. If there are several people sleeping in a house and a robbery takes place that night, even if none leave, everyone must swear that they had no knowledge of or involvement in the theft, or they will be deemed guilty. In all theft cases where only part of the stolen items are recovered, the owner must verify the total value of their loss under oath.
MURDER, WOUNDING, AND ASSAULT.
Murder, wounding, and assault.
A person convicted of murder shall pay to the relations of the deceased a bangun of eighty-eight dollars, one suku, and seventy-five cash; to the chiefs a fine of twenty-eight dollars; the bhasa lurah, which is a buffalo and one hundred bamboos of rice; and the palantan, which is fourteen dollars. If a son kills his father, or a father his son, or a man kills his brother, he shall pay a fine of twenty-eight dollars, and the bhasa lurah as above. If a man kills his wife the relations of the deceased shall receive half a bangun: if any other kills a man's wife the husband is entitled to the bangun, but shall pay out of it to the relations of the wife ten dollars. In wounds a distinction is made in the parts of the body. A wound in any part from the hips upward is esteemed more considerable than in the lower parts. If a person wounds another with sword, kris, kujur, or other weapon, and the wound is considerable, so as to maim him, he shall pay to the person wounded a half-bangun, and to the chiefs half of the fine for murder, with half of the bhasa lurah, etc. If the wound is trifling but fetches blood he shall pay the person wounded the tepong of fourteen dollars, and be fined fourteen dollars. If a person wounds another with a stick, bamboo, etc., he shall simply pay the tepong of fourteen dollars. If in any dispute between two people krises are drawn the person who first drew his kris shall be fined fourteen dollars. If any person having a dispute assembles together his friends with arms, he shall be fined twenty-eight dollars.
A person found guilty of murder must pay the family of the deceased a compensation of eighty-eight dollars, one suku, and seventy-five cash; to the chiefs a fine of twenty-eight dollars; the bhasa lurah, which consists of a buffalo and one hundred bamboos of rice; and the palantan, which amounts to fourteen dollars. If a son kills his father, or a father kills his son, or a man kills his brother, he must pay a fine of twenty-eight dollars, along with the bhasa lurah as mentioned above. If a man kills his wife, the family of the deceased will receive half a bangun; however, if someone else kills a man's wife, the husband is entitled to the full bangun but must give ten dollars to the family of his wife from that amount. Different rules apply to wounds based on the body parts affected. A wound on any part of the body from the hips upward is considered more serious than one on the lower parts. If someone wounds another with a sword, kris, kujur, or any other weapon, and the injury is severe enough to cause permanent damage, he must pay the injured person half a bangun, and to the chiefs half of the murder fine, along with half of the bhasa lurah, etc. If the wound is minor but draws blood, he will owe the injured party a tepong of fourteen dollars and a fine of fourteen dollars. If someone wounds another with a stick, bamboo, etc., he will simply pay the tepong of fourteen dollars. If, during a dispute between two people, one draws a kris first, he will be fined fourteen dollars. If a person in a dispute gathers their friends with weapons, he will be fined twenty-eight dollars.
MARRIAGE, DIVORCE, ETC.
Marriage, divorce, etc.
MARRIAGE.
Marriage.
There are two modes of marriage used here: one by purchase, called jujur or kulu, the other by adoption, called ambel anak. First of jujur.
There are two types of marriage practiced here: one through purchase, called jujur or kulu, and the other through adoption, called ambel anak. First, jujur.
JUJUR.
HONEST.
When a person is desirous of marrying he deposits a sum of money in the hands of the father of the virgin, which is called the pagatan. This sum is not esteemed part of the purchase, but as an equivalent for the dandanan (paraphernalia, or ornamental apparel) of the bride, and is not fixed but varies according to the circumstances and rank of the father. The amount of the jujur is fixed at seventy dollars, including the hurup niawa (price of life), forty dollars, a kris with gold about the head and silver about the sheath, valued at ten dollars, and the meniudakan billi or putus kulo (completion of purchase) at twenty. If a young man runs away with a gadis or virgin without the consent of the father he does not act contrary to the laws of the country; but if he refuses to pay the full jujur on demand he shall be fined twentyeight dollars. If the father, having received the pagatan of one man, marries his daughter to another before he returns the money to the first, he shall be fined fourteen dollars, and the man who marries the daughter shall also be fined fourteen dollars. In case of divorce (which may take place at the will of either party) the dandanan brought by the wife is to be valued and to be deducted from the purchase-money. If a divorce originates from the man, and before the whole purchasemoney is paid, the man shall receive back what he has advanced after deducting the dandanan as above, and fourteen dollars, called penusutan. If the divorce originates with the woman the whole purchase-money shall be returned, and the children, if any, remain with the father. If a divorce originates with the man, when the whole purchase-money has been paid, or kulo sudah putus, he shall not be entitled to receive back the purchase-money, but may recall his wife whenever it shall be agreeable to him. An exact estimation is made of the value of the woman's ornaments, and what are not restored with her must be made good by the husband. If there are children they are in this case to be divided, or if there be only one the husband is to allow the woman fifteen dollars, and to take the child. Secondly, of ambel anak.
When someone wants to get married, they give a sum of money to the father of the bride, called the pagatan. This amount isn’t seen as part of the purchase but as a compensation for the bride's traditional gifts or fancy clothing (dandanan). The sum isn’t fixed and varies based on the father's situation and status. The jujur amount is set at seventy dollars, which includes the hurup niawa (the cost of life) at forty dollars, a kris with gold on the hilt and silver on the sheath valued at ten dollars, and the meniudakan billi or putus kulo (completion of purchase) at twenty dollars. If a young man elopes with a gadis or virgin without the father's permission, he isn't breaking any laws; however, if he refuses to pay the full jujur when asked, he will be fined twenty-eight dollars. If the father takes the pagatan from one suitor and marries his daughter to another before giving back the money, he will be fined fourteen dollars, and the man who marries the daughter will also be fined fourteen dollars. In the event of a divorce (which either party can initiate), the value of the dandanan brought by the wife will be assessed and deducted from the purchase money. If the man initiates the divorce before the full purchase amount is paid, he will get back what he has paid minus the value of the dandanan and an additional fourteen dollars called penusutan. If the woman initiates the divorce, the entire purchase money will be refunded, and if there are children, they will remain with the father. If the man is the one initiating the divorce after paying the full purchase money (or kulo sudah putus), he will not get back the purchase money but can take his wife back whenever he wants. A precise assessment is made of the value of the woman's belongings, and anything not returned with her must be compensated by the husband. If there are children, they will be divided, or if there’s only one, the husband will give the woman fifteen dollars and take the child. Secondly, with respect to ambel anak.
AMBEL ANAK.
AMBEL KID.
When a man marries after the custom called ambel anak he pays no money to the father of the bride, but becomes one of his family, and is entirely upon the footing of a son, the father of his wife being thenceforward answerable for his debts, etc., in the same manner as for his own children. The married man becomes entirely separate from his original family, and gives up his right of inheritance. It is however in the power of the father of the wife to divorce from her his adopted son whenever he thinks proper, in which case the husband is not entitled to any of the children, nor to any effects other than simply the clothes on his back: but if the wife is willing still to live with him, and he is able to redeem her and the children by paying the father a hundred dollars, it is not at the option of the father to refuse accepting this sum; and in that case the marriage becomes a kulo or jujur, and is subject to the same rules. If any unmarried woman is convicted of incontinence, or a married woman of adultery, they shall pay to the chiefs a fine of forty dollars, or in defect thereof become slaves, and the man with whom the crime was committed shall pay a fine of thirty dollars, or in like manner become a slave; and the parties between them shall also be at the expense of a buffalo and a hundred bamboos of rice. This is called the gawe pati or panjingan. If an unmarried woman proves with child and refuses to name the man with whom she was guilty she shall pay the whole fine of seventy dollars, and furnish the buffalo, etc. If a woman after marriage brings forth a child before the due course of nature she shall be fined twenty-eight dollars. If a man keeps a young woman in his house for any length of time, and has a child by her without being regularly married, he shall be fined twenty-eight dollars, and furnish a buffalo and a hundred bamboos of rice. If a person detects the offenders in the act of adultery, and, attempting to seize the man, is obliged to kill him in self-defence, he shall not pay the bangun, nor be fined, but only pay the bhasa lurah, which is a buffalo and a hundred bamboos of rice. On the other hand, if the guilty person kills the one who attempts to seize him, he shall be deemed guilty of murder and pay the bangun and fine accordingly. If a man holding a woman as a pawn, or in the condition of mengiring shall commit fornication with her, he shall forfeit his claim to the debt, and the woman become free.
When a man marries under the custom called ambel anak, he doesn’t pay any money to the bride's father; instead, he becomes part of that family and is treated like a son. From that point on, the father of the bride is responsible for his debts, just like he would be for his own children. The married man is completely separated from his original family and gives up his inheritance rights. However, the wife's father can divorce his adopted son whenever he chooses, in which case the husband won’t get any of the children or anything except for the clothes on his back. If the wife still wants to live with him, and he can pay her father a hundred dollars to buy back his wife and children, the father cannot refuse to take this money. In that situation, the marriage becomes a kulo or jujur and follows the same rules. If an unmarried woman is found guilty of being promiscuous or a married woman of adultery, they must pay the chiefs a fine of forty dollars, or if they can’t pay, they become slaves. The man involved in the crime will be fined thirty dollars, or likewise, become a slave. Additionally, the parties involved will also need to provide a buffalo and a hundred bamboos of rice. This is known as the gawe pati or panjingan. If an unmarried woman is found to be pregnant and refuses to name the man responsible, she has to pay the full fine of seventy dollars and provide the buffalo, etc. If a married woman gives birth to a child too soon after marriage, she will be fined twenty-eight dollars. If a man keeps a young woman in his house for any period and has a child with her without being officially married, he will be fined twenty-eight dollars and must provide a buffalo and a hundred bamboos of rice. If someone sees the offenders committing adultery and, in trying to catch the man, ends up having to kill him in self-defense, he won’t have to pay the bangun or be fined, but will only pay the bhasa lurah, which is a buffalo and a hundred bamboos of rice. Conversely, if the guilty person kills the one trying to apprehend him, he will be considered guilty of murder and will have to pay the bangun and a fine accordingly. If a man has a woman as a pawn or in a state of mengiring and has fornication with her, he will lose his claim to the debt, and the woman will be set free.
OUTLAWRY.
OUTLAW STATUS.
If the members of a family have suffered inconvenience from the ill conduct of any of their relations by having been rendered answerable for their debts, etc., it shall be in their power to clear themselves from all future responsibility on his account by paying to the chiefs the sum of thirty dollars, a buffalo, and a hundred bamboos of rice. This is termed buang surat. Should the person so cast out be afterwards murdered the relations have forfeited their right to the bangun, which devolves to the chiefs.
If family members have faced trouble because of the bad behavior of any of their relatives, like being held responsible for their debts, they can free themselves from any future responsibility by paying the chiefs thirty dollars, a buffalo, and a hundred bamboos of rice. This is called buang surat. If the person who was cast out is later murdered, the family loses their right to the bangun, which then goes to the chiefs.
Dated at Manna, July 1807.
Dated at Manna, July 1807.
JOHN CRISP, Resident.
JOHN CRISP, Local Resident.
CHAPTER 13.
REMARKS ON, AND ELUCIDATION OF, THE VARIOUS LAWS AND CUSTOMS.
MODES OF PLEADING.
NATURE OF EVIDENCE.
OATHS.
INHERITANCE.
OUTLAWRY.
THEFT, MURDER, AND COMPENSATION FOR IT.
ACCOUNT OF A FEUD.
DEBTS.
SLAVERY.
COMMENTS ON, AND EXPLANATION OF, THE DIFFERENT LAWS AND CUSTOMS.
WAYS OF PLEADING.
TYPE OF EVIDENCE.
OATHS.
INHERITANCE.
OUTLAWRY.
THEFT, MURDER, AND COMPENSATION FOR IT.
DESCRIPTION OF A FEUD.
DEBTS.
SLAVERY.
REMARKS ON THE FOREGOING LAWS.
COMMENTS ON THE ABOVE LAWS.
The foregoing system of the adat, or customs of the country, being digested chiefly for the use of the natives, or of persons well acquainted with their manners in general, and being designed, not for an illustration of the customs, but simply as a standard of right, the fewest and concisest terms possible have been made use of, and many parts must necessarily be obscure to the bulk of readers. I shall therefore revert to those particulars that may require explanation, and endeavour to throw a light upon the spirit and operation of such of their laws especially as seem most to clash with our ideas of distributive justice. This comment is the more requisite as it appears that some of their regulations, which were judged to be inconsistent with the prosperity of the people, were altered and amended through the more enlightened reason of the persons who acted as the representatives of the English company; and it may be proper to recall the idea of the original institutions.
The earlier system of adat, or local customs, was mainly compiled for the benefit of the locals or those familiar with their general practices. It wasn't intended to fully explain these customs, but rather to serve as a standard of what is right. Therefore, I've used the fewest and most straightforward terms possible, which means some sections might be unclear to most readers. I'll revisit those aspects that might need clarification and aim to shed light on the spirit and workings of their laws, especially those that seem to conflict with our views on fairness. This explanation is particularly important because it seems that some regulations deemed harmful to the people's well-being were changed and improved by the more enlightened perspectives of the individuals representing the English company. It might be appropriate to revisit the original concepts behind these institutions.
MODE OF PLEADING.
Mode of pleading.
The plaintiff and defendant usually plead their own cause, but if circumstances render them unequal to it they are allowed to pinjam mulut (borrow a mouth). Their advocate may be a proattin, or other person indifferently; nor is there any stated compensation for the assistance, though if the cause be gained a gratuity is generally given, and too apt to be rapaciously exacted by these chiefs from their clients, when their conduct is not attentively watched. The proattin also, who is security for the damages, receives privately some consideration; but none is openly allowed of. A refusal on his part to become security for his dependant or client is held to justify the latter in renouncing his civil dependence and choosing another patron.
The plaintiff and defendant typically represent themselves, but if they are unable to do so, they are allowed to "borrow a mouth." Their advocate can be a proattin or anyone else; there isn’t a set fee for their help, but if they win the case, a tip is usually given, which can sometimes be demanded greedily by these leaders if their actions aren’t closely monitored. The proattin, who guarantees the damages, also receives some undisclosed compensation, but this isn’t openly acknowledged. If he refuses to act as a guarantor for his client, that client is seen as justified in ending their civil dependence and seeking a different patron.
EVIDENCE.
EVIDENCE.
Evidence is used among these people in a manner very different from the forms of our courts of justice. They rarely admit it on both sides of the question; nor does the witness first make a general oath to speak the truth, and nothing but the truth. When a fact is to be established, either on the part of the plaintiff or of the defendant, he is asked if he can produce any evidence to the truth of what he asserts. On answering in the affirmative he is directed to mention the person. This witness must not be a relation, a party concerned, nor even belong to the same dusun. He must be a responsible man, having a family, and a determinate place of residence. Thus qualified, his evidence may be admitted. They have a settled rule in respect to the party that is to produce evidence. For instance; A. sues B. for a debt: B. denies the debt: A. is now to bring evidence to the debt, or, on failure thereof, it remains with B. to clear himself of the debt by swearing himself not indebted. Had B. acknowledged that such a debt had formerly subsisted but was since paid, it would be incumbent on B. to prove the payment by evidence, or on failure it would rest with A. to confirm the debt's being still due, by his oath. This is an invariable mode, observed in all cases of property.
Evidence is used among these people in a way that's quite different from our legal system. They rarely accept it from both sides of the argument, and witnesses don’t start by swearing a general oath to tell the truth. When a fact needs to be established, either by the plaintiff or the defendant, they're asked if they can provide any evidence to support their claim. If they say yes, they are instructed to name the person who will testify. This witness isn’t allowed to be a relative, involved party, or even from the same village. They must be a responsible person with a family and a permanent place of residence. Once qualified, their testimony may be accepted. There’s a clear rule for who needs to present evidence. For example, if A sues B for a debt, and B denies it, A must provide evidence for the debt. If A fails to do so, then it falls on B to clear himself of the debt by swearing that he doesn't owe anything. If B admits that the debt existed but was paid off, then B has to provide evidence of that payment. If he fails, A can confirm that the debt is still owed by his oath. This method is consistently followed in all property cases.
OATHS.
Oaths.
As their manner of giving evidence differs from ours so also does the nature of an oath among them differ from our idea of it. In many cases it is requisite that they should swear to what it is not possible in the nature of things they should know to be true. A. sues B. for a debt due from the father or grandfather of B. to the father or grandfather of A. The original parties are dead and no witness of the transaction survives. How is the matter to be decided? It remains with B. to make oath that his father or grandfather never was indebted to those of A.; or that if he was indebted the debt had been paid. This, among us, would be esteemed a very strange method of deciding causes; but among these people something of the kind is absolutely necessary. As they have no sort of written accounts, nor anything like records or registers among them, it would be utterly impossible for the plaintiff to establish the debt by a positive proof in a multitude of cases; and were the suit to be dismissed at once, as with us, for want of such proof, numbers of innocent persons would lose the debts really due to them through the knavery of the persons indebted, who would scarce ever fail to deny a debt. On the side of the defendant again; if he was not permitted to clear himself of the debt by oath, but that it rested with the plaintiff only to establish the fact by a single oath, there would be a set of unprincipled fellows daily swearing debts against persons who never were indebted to any of their generation. In such suits, and there are many of them, it requires no small discernment to discover, by the attendant circumstances, where the truth lies; but this may be done in most instances by a person who is used to their manners and has a personal knowledge of the parties concerned. But what they mean by their oath, in those cases where it is impossible they should be acquainted with the facts they design to prove, is no more than this; that they are so convinced of the truth of the matter as to be willing to subject themselves to the paju sumpah (destructive consequences of perjury) if what they assert is believed by them to be false. The form of words used is nearly as follows: "If what I now declare, namely" (here the fact is recited) "is truly and really so, may I be freed and clear from my oath: if what I assert is wittingly false, may my oath be the cause of my destruction." But it may be easily supposed that, where the punishment for a false oath rests altogether with the invisible powers, where no direct infamy, no corporal punishment is annexed to the perjury, there cannot fail to be many who would makan sumpah (swallow an oath), and willingly incur the guilt, in order to acquire a little of their neighbour's property.
As their way of giving evidence is different from ours, the nature of an oath for them also differs from what we think of. In many cases, they need to swear to something that, by the nature of things, they shouldn't know to be true. A sues B for a debt that B's father or grandfather owes to A's father or grandfather. The original parties are dead, and no witness to the transaction is alive. So how should it be resolved? It’s up to B to swear that his father or grandfather never owed anything to A's family, or that if he did, the debt was paid. This would seem very odd to us as a way to settle disputes, but for these people, it’s absolutely necessary. Since they don't keep written accounts or any kind of records or registers, it would be impossible for the plaintiff to prove the debt in many cases. If the suit were dismissed immediately for lack of proof, many innocent people would lose debts that are genuinely owed to them due to the deceitfulness of the debtors, who would almost always deny the debt. On the other hand, if the defendant wasn't allowed to clear himself by swearing an oath and the burden was solely on the plaintiff to prove the claim with just one oath, there would be unscrupulous individuals daily swearing debts against people who never owed them anything. In such cases, of which there are many, it takes a keen perception to discern the truth based on the surrounding circumstances, but a person familiar with their customs and who knows the involved parties can often figure it out. What they mean by their oath, in situations where it’s impossible for them to know the facts they’re trying to prove, is simply this: they are so convinced of the truth of their statement that they’re willing to face the paju sumpah (destructive consequences of perjury) if what they claim is found to be false. The wording they use is something like this: "If what I now declare, namely" (then they state the fact) "is truly and really so, may I be freed and clear from my oath: if what I assert is knowingly false, may my oath lead to my destruction." But it’s easy to see that when the penalty for a false oath depends entirely on invisible powers, with no direct disgrace or corporal punishment tied to perjury, there will be many who would makat sumpah (swallow an oath) and willingly take the risk to gain a little of their neighbor's property.
Although an oath, as being an appeal to the superior powers, is supposed to come within their cognizance alone, and that it is contrary to the spirit of the customs of these people to punish a perjury by human means, even if it were clearly detected; yet, so far prevalent is the opinion of their interposition in human affairs that it is very seldom any man of substance, or who has a family that he fears may suffer by it, will venture to forswear himself; nor are there wanting apparent examples to confirm them in this notion. Any accident that happens to a man who has been known to take a false oath, or to his children or grandchildren, is carefully recorded in memory, and attributed to this sole cause. The dupati of Gunong Selong and his family have afforded an instance that is often quoted among the Rejangs, and has evidently had great weight. It was notorious that he had, about the year 1770, taken in the most solemn manner a false oath. He had at that time five sons grown up to manhood. One of them, soon after, in a scuffle with some bugis (country soldiers) was wounded and died. The dupati the next year lost his life in the issue of a disturbance he had raised in the district. Two of the sons died afterwards, within a week of each other. Mas Kaddah, the fourth, is blind; and Treman, the fifth, lame. All this is attributed to, and firmly believed to be the consequence of, the father's perjury.
Even though an oath is meant to be a call to higher powers and is supposed to fall under their judgment alone, it's against the customs of these people to punish someone for perjury by human means, even if it’s clearly evident. Yet, the belief in their intervention in human affairs is so strong that very few individuals of significance or those with families that might suffer from it would dare to lie under oath. There are plenty of obvious examples that reinforce this belief. Any unfortunate event that occurs to someone known for taking a false oath, or to their children or grandchildren, is carefully remembered and linked to that sole reason. The dupati of Gunong Selong and his family is a frequently cited case among the Rejangs and has clearly had a significant impact. It was well-known that he had taken a false oath in a very serious manner around 1770. At that time, he had five sons who were all grown up. Shortly after, one of them was wounded during a fight with some Bugis soldiers and died. The dupati lost his life the following year due to a disturbance he caused in the area. Two of his sons died within a week of each other afterward. Mas Kaddah, the fourth son, is blind, and Treman, the fifth son, is lame. All of this is attributed to, and strongly believed to be a result of, the father's perjury.
COLLATERAL OATHS.
Collateral Oaths.
In administering an oath, if the matter litigated respects the property of the grandfather, all the collateral branches of the family descended from him are understood to be included in its operation: if the father's effects only are concerned, or the transaction happened in his lifetime, his descendants are included: if the affair regards only the present parties and originated with them, they and their immediate descendants only are comprehended in the consequences of the oath; and if any single one of these descendants refuses to join in the oath it vitiates the whole; that is, it has the same effect as if the party himself refused to swear; a case that not unfrequently occurs. It may be observed that the spirit of this custom tends to the requiring a weight of evidence and an increase of the importance of the oath in proportion as the distance of time renders the fact to be established less capable of proof in the ordinary way.
When administering an oath, if the issue at hand concerns the property of the grandfather, all extended family members descended from him are included. If the focus is only on the father's belongings or if the event happened during his lifetime, then his descendants are included. If the matter involves just the current parties and originated with them, only they and their immediate descendants are covered by the oath's consequences. If any one of these descendants refuses to take the oath, it nullifies the entire thing; that is, it has the same effect as if the party himself declined to swear, which happens relatively often. It can be noted that the essence of this custom aims to require a strong level of evidence and increase the significance of the oath as the distance of time makes it harder to prove the fact in the usual way.
Sometimes the difficulty of the case alone will induce the court to insist on administering the oath to the relations of the parties, although they are nowise concerned in the transaction. I recollect an instance where three people were prosecuted for a theft. There was no positive proof against them, yet the circumstances were so strong that it appeared proper to put them to the test of one of these collateral oaths. They were all willing, and two of them swore. When it came to the turn of the third he could not persuade his relations to join with him, and he was accordingly brought in for the whole amount of the goods stolen, and penalties annexed.
Sometimes, just the complexity of a case will lead the court to require the oath from the relatives of the parties involved, even if they aren't directly connected to the events in question. I remember a situation where three people were charged with theft. There was no solid evidence against them, but the circumstances were so convincing that it seemed appropriate to put them through one of these side oaths. They were all willing, and two of them took the oath. When it was the third person's turn, he couldn't convince his relatives to stand with him, so he ended up being held responsible for the full value of the stolen goods and any related penalties.
These customs bear a strong resemblance to the rules of proof established among our ancestors, the Anglo-Saxons, who were likewise obliged, in the case of oaths taken for the purpose of exculpation, to produce a certain number of compurgators; but, as these might be any indifferent persons, who would take upon them to bear testimony to the truth of what their neighbour swore, from an opinion of his veracity, there seems to be more refinement and more knowledge of human nature in the Sumatran practice. The idea of devoting to destruction, by a wilful perjury, not himself only, but all, even the remotest branches, of a family which constitutes his greatest pride, and of which the deceased heads are regarded with the veneration that was paid to the dii lares of the ancients, has doubtless restrained many a man from taking a false oath, who without much compunction would suffer thirty or a hundred compurgators of the former description to take their chance of that fate. Their strongest prejudices are here converted to the most beneficial purposes.
These customs closely resemble the rules of proof established by our ancestors, the Anglo-Saxons, who were also required, when taking oaths for exoneration, to present a certain number of supporters; however, these supporters could be anyone who was willing to testify to the truth of what their neighbor claimed, based on their belief in his honesty. The Sumatran practice, on the other hand, shows more sophistication and a deeper understanding of human nature. The idea of bringing destruction not just upon oneself through deliberate perjury, but also upon all the farthest branches of one’s family—whom he holds in great pride and whose deceased members are revered like the household gods of ancient times—has certainly deterred many individuals from making false oaths. They would, without much concern, allow thirty or a hundred of the former type of supporters to face that peril. Their strongest biases are here turned into the most beneficial outcomes.
CEREMONY OF TAKING AN OATH.
Oath-taking ceremony.
The place of greatest solemnity for administering an oath is the krammat or burying-ground of their ancestors, and several superstitious ceremonies are observed on the occasion. The people near the sea-coast, in general, by long intercourse with the Malays, have an idea of the Koran, and usually employ this in swearing, which the priests do not fail to make them pay for; but the inland people keep, laid up in their houses, certain old reliques, called in the Rejang language pesakko, and in Malayan, sactian, which they produce when an oath is to be taken. The person who has lost his cause, and with whom it commonly rests to bind his adversary by an oath, often desires two or three days' time to get ready these his swearing apparatus, called on such occasions sumpahan, of which some are looked upon as more sacred and of greater efficacy than others. They consist of an old rusty kris, a broken gun barrel, or any ancient trumpery, to which chance or caprice has annexed an idea of extraordinary virtue. These they generally dip in water, which the person who swears drinks off, after having pronounced the form of words before mentioned.* The pangeran of Sungei-lamo has by him certain copper bullets which had been steeped in water drunk by the Sungeietam chiefs, when they bound themselves never to molest his districts: which they have only done since as often as they could venture it with safety, from the relaxation of our government. But these were political oaths. The most ordinary sumpahan is a kris, and on the blade of this they sometimes drop lime-juice, which occasions a stain on the lips of the person performing the ceremony; a circumstance that may not improbably be supposed to make an impression on a weak and guilty mind. Such would fancy that the external stain conveyed to the beholders an image of the internal. At Manna the sumpahan most respected is a gun barrel. When produced to be sworn on it is carried to the spot in state, under an umbrella, and wrapped in silk. This parade has an advantageous effect by influencing the mind of the party with a high idea of the importance and solemnity of the business. In England the familiarity of the object and the summary method of administering oaths are well known to diminish their weight, and to render them too often nugatory. They sometimes swear by the earth, laying their hands upon it and wishing that it may never produce aught for their nourishment if they speak falsely. In all these ceremonies they burn on the spot a little gum benzoin--Et acerra thuris plena, positusque carbo in cespite vivo.
The most serious place for taking an oath is the krammat or burial ground of their ancestors, and there are several superstitious ceremonies that take place. People living near the coast, due to their long contact with the Malays, generally have knowledge of the Koran and usually use it for swearing, which priests often charge them for; however, the inland people keep certain old relics in their homes, known in the Rejang language as pesakko and in Malayan as sactian, which they bring out when an oath needs to be taken. The person who has lost his case, typically the one who must bind their opponent by an oath, often asks for two or three days to prepare their swearing items, referred to in these situations as sumpahan, some of which are considered more sacred and effective than others. These items can include an old rusty kris, a broken gun barrel, or any ancient junk that has come to be associated with extraordinary significance. They generally dip these in water, which the person swearing drinks after reciting the previously mentioned words.* The pangeran of Sungei-lamo has certain copper bullets that were soaked in water consumed by the Sungeietam chiefs when they promised never to disturb his areas, which they have only done since whenever it was safe, following our government's relaxation. But these were political oaths. The most common sumpahan is a kris, and on its blade, they sometimes drop lime juice, which leaves a stain on the lips of the person performing the ceremony; this fact might lead someone with a guilty conscience to think it reflects their inner state. Such individuals might believe that the visible stain projects an image of their internal guilt. At Manna, the most respected sumpahan is a gun barrel. When it is used for swearing, it is brought out with great ceremony, carried under an umbrella, and wrapped in silk. This show enhances the significance and seriousness of the occasion in the minds of those involved. In England, the casual nature of the item and the quick method of administering oaths are known to lessen their weight and often render them meaningless. Sometimes, they swear by the earth, placing their hands upon it and declaring that it should never provide them with anything to eat if they lie. In all these ceremonies, they burn a bit of gum benzoin on the spot—Et acerra thuris plena, positusque carbo in cespite vivo.
(*Footnote. The form of taking an oath among the people of Madagascar very nearly resembles the ceremonies used by the Sumatrans. There is a strong similarity in the articles they swear on and in the circumstance of their drinking the consecrated water.)
(*Footnote. The way oaths are taken by the people of Madagascar is very similar to the ceremonies practiced by the Sumatrans. There is a notable resemblance in the objects they swear on and in the act of drinking the sacred water.)
It is a striking circumstance that practices which boast so little of reason in their foundation, which are in fact so whimsical and childish, should yet be common to nations the most remote in situation, climate, language, complexion, character, and everything that can distinguish one race of people from another. Formed of like materials, and furnished with like original sentiments, the uncivilized tribes of Europe and of India trembled from the same apprehensions, excited by similar ideas, at a time when they were ignorant, or even denied the possibility of each other's existence. Mutual wrong and animosity, attended with disputes and accusations, are not by nature confined to either description of people. Each, in doubtful litigations, might seek to prove their innocence by braving, on the justice of their cause, those objects which inspired amongst their countrymen the greatest terror. The Sumatran, impressed with an idea of invisible powers, but not of his own immortality, regards with awe the supposed instruments of their agency, and swears on krises, bullets, and gun barrels; weapons of personal destruction. The German Christian of the seventh century, more indifferent to the perils of this life, but not less superstitious, swore on bits of rotten wood and rusty nails, which he was taught to revere as possessing efficacy to secure him from eternal perdition.
It’s striking that practices which have so little reason behind them, which are really quite whimsical and childish, are common among nations that are far apart in terms of situation, climate, language, skin color, character, and everything else that can differentiate one group from another. Made from similar materials and driven by similar basic emotions, the uncivilized tribes of Europe and India were fearful of the same things, triggered by similar thoughts, at a time when they were unaware of, or even rejected the idea of, each other's existence. Wrongdoing and hostility, along with disputes and accusations, are not naturally limited to either group. Each might seek to prove their innocence in uncertain lawsuits by confronting the things that inspired the greatest fear among their fellow countrymen. The Sumatran, influenced by the idea of invisible forces but not by the belief in his own immortality, looks up to the supposed tools of their power and takes oaths on krises, bullets, and gun barrels; weapons of personal destruction. The German Christian of the seventh century, more indifferent to the dangers of this life but still superstitious, swore on pieces of rotten wood and rusty nails, which he believed had the power to protect him from eternal damnation.
INHERITANCE.
Inheritance.
When a man dies his effects, in common course, descend to his male children in equal shares; but if one among them is remarkable for his abilities above the rest, though not the eldest, he usually obtains the largest proportion, and becomes the head of the tungguan or house; the others voluntarily yielding him the superiority. A pangeran of Manna left several children; none of them succeeded to the title, but a name of distinction was given to one of the younger, who was looked upon as chief of the family after the father's decease. Upon asking the eldest how it happened that the name of distinction passed over him and was conferred on his younger brother, he answered with great naivete, "because I am accounted weak and silly." If no male children are left and a daughter only remains they contrive to get her married by the mode of ambel anak, and thus the tungguan of the father continues. An equal distribution of property among children is more natural and conformable to justice than vesting the whole in the eldest son, as prevails throughout most part of Europe; but where wealth consists in landed estate the latter mode, beside favouring the pride of family, is attended with fewest inconveniences. The property of the Sumatrans being personal merely, this reason does not operate with them. Land is so abundant in proportion to the population that they scarcely consider it as the subject of right any more than the elements of air and water; excepting so far as in speculation the prince lays claim to the whole. The ground however on which a man plants or builds, with the consent of his neighbours, becomes a species of nominal property, and is transferable; but as it costs him nothing beside his labour it is only the produce which is esteemed of value, and the compensation he receives is for this alone. A temporary usufruct is accordingly all that they attend to, and the price, in case of sale, is generally ascertained by the coconut, durian, and other fruit-trees that have been planted on it; the buildings being for the most part but little durable. Whilst any of those subsist the descendants of the planter may claim the ground, though it has been for years abandoned. If they are cut down he may recover damages; but if they have disappeared in the course of nature the land reverts to the public.
When a man dies, his belongings typically go to his male children in equal parts. However, if one of them stands out due to his abilities, even if he’s not the eldest, he usually gets a larger share and becomes the head of the household; the others willingly accept his leadership. A prince from Manna had several children; none inherited the title, but a distinguished name was given to one of the younger ones, who was seen as the family leader after their father passed away. When asked why the name of distinction went to his younger brother instead of him, the oldest simply said, “because I’m considered weak and foolish.” If there are no male children and only a daughter remains, they arrange for her to marry through a practice called ambel anak, thereby continuing the family line. Sharing property equally among children is more natural and fair than giving it all to the eldest son, as is common in most of Europe. However, in cases where wealth is tied to land, the latter method supports family pride and comes with fewer issues. Since the property of the Sumatrans consists of personal belongings, this reasoning doesn't apply to them. Land is so plentiful compared to the population that they hardly see it as something to claim, much like air and water; aside from the fact that the prince theoretically claims it all. However, the land a person cultivates or builds on, with their neighbors’ consent, becomes a kind of nominal property that can be transferred. Since it costs him nothing but his labor, only the crops are considered valuable, and the compensation he receives is solely for those. A temporary right to use the land is what they focus on, and the price, if sold, is typically determined by the coconut, durian, and other fruit trees planted on it; as the buildings are usually not very durable. As long as those trees exist, the descendants of the planter can claim the land, even if it has been abandoned for years. If the trees are cut down, he can seek damages; but if they naturally disappear, the land reverts to the public.
They have a custom of keeping by them a sum of money as a resource against extremity of distress, and which common exigencies do not call forth. This is a refined antidote against despair, because, whilst it remains possible to avoid encroaching on that treasure, their affairs are not at the worst, and the idea of the little hoard serves to buoy up their spirits and encourage them to struggle with wretchedness. It usually therefore continues inviolate and descends to the heir, or is lost to him by the sudden exit of the parent. From their apprehension of dishonesty and insecurity of their houses their money is for the most part concealed in the ground, the cavity of an old beam, or other secret place; and a man on his death-bed has commonly some important discovery of this nature to make to his assembled relations.
They have a practice of keeping a sum of money set aside as a safeguard against extreme hardship, which everyday needs don't touch. This is a sophisticated remedy against despair because, as long as they can avoid dipping into that stash, their situation isn’t as bad as it could be, and the thought of that little reserve lifts their spirits and motivates them to fight against misery. It usually remains untouched and is passed down to the heir, or it’s lost if the parent suddenly dies. Due to their fear of dishonesty and the insecurity of their homes, they mostly hide their money in the ground, a hollow in an old beam, or some other secret spot; and a man on his deathbed often has some significant revelation of this kind to share with his gathered family.
OUTLAWRY.
OUTLAW STATUS.
The practice of outlawing an individual of a family by the head of it (called lepas or buang dangan surat, to let loose, or cast out with a writing) has its foundation in the custom which obliges all the branches to be responsible for the debts contracted by any one of the kindred. When an extravagant and unprincipled spendthrift is running a career that appears likely to involve his family in ruinous consequences, they have the right of dissolving the connexion and clearing themselves of further responsibility by this public act, which, as the writ expresses it, sends forth the outcast, as a deer into the woods, no longer to be considered as enjoying the privileges of society. This character is what they term risau, though it is sometimes applied to persons not absolutely outlawed, but of debauched and irregular manners.
The practice of banishing a family member by the head of the family (called lepas or buang dangan surat, meaning to let loose or cast out with a writing) is based on the custom that holds all family branches accountable for the debts incurred by any one of them. When a reckless and irresponsible spender is living in a way that threatens to bring ruin to the family, they have the right to terminate the connection and free themselves from any further responsibility through this public act, which, as the document states, sends the outcast out like a deer into the woods, no longer recognized as having the privileges of society. This status is referred to as risau, although it can also apply to individuals who may not be fully outlawed but display immoral and disorderly behavior.
In the Saxon law we find a strong resemblance to this custom; the kindred of a murderer being exempt from the feud if they abandoned him to his fate. They bound themselves in this case neither to converse with him nor to furnish him with meat or other necessaries. This is precisely the Sumatran outlawry, in which it is always particularly specified (beside what relates to common debts) that if the outlaw kills a person the relations shall not pay the compensation, nor claim it if he is killed. But the writ must have been issued before the event, and they cannot free themselves by a subsequent process, as it would seem the Saxons might. If an outlaw commits murder the friends of the deceased may take personal revenge on him, and are not liable to be called to an account for it; but if such be killed, otherwise than in satisfaction for murder, although his family have no claim, the prince of the country is entitled to a certain compensation, all outlaws being nominally his property, like other wild animals.
In Saxon law, there's a strong similarity to this custom; the family of a murderer is free from retaliation if they abandon him to his fate. They agree not to talk to him or provide him with food or other necessities. This is exactly like the Sumatran outlawry, where it's always specifically stated (aside from common debts) that if the outlaw kills someone, his relatives won't have to pay any compensation, nor can they claim it if he gets killed. However, the writ must be issued before the incident occurs, and they can't absolve themselves later, as it seems the Saxons might. If an outlaw commits murder, the friends of the victim can take personal revenge on him without facing any consequences; but if the outlaw is killed in a way that isn’t in retaliation for murder, even though his family can't make a claim, the prince of the land is entitled to a specific compensation, since all outlaws are considered his property, just like other wild animals.
COMPENSATION FOR MURDER.
PAYMENT FOR MURDER.
It seems strange to those who are accustomed to the severity of penal laws, which in most instances inflict punishment exceeding by many degrees the measure of the offence, how a society can exist in which the greatest of all crimes is, agreeably to established custom, expiated by the payment of a certain sum of money; a sum not proportioned to the rank and ability of the murderer, nor to the premeditation, or other aggravating circumstances of the fact, but regulated only by the quality of the person murdered. The practice had doubtless its source in the imbecility of government, which, being unable to enforce the law of retaliation, the most obvious rule of punishment, had recourse to a milder scheme of retribution as being preferable to absolute indemnity. The latter it was competent to carry into execution because the guilty persons readily submit to a penalty which effectually relieves them from the burden of anxiety for the consequences of their action. Instances occur in the history of all states, particularly those which suffer from internal weakness, of iniquities going unpunished, owing to the rigour of the pains denounced against them by the law, which defeats its own purpose. The original mode of avenging a murder was probably by the arm of the person nearest in consanguinity, or friendship, to the deceased; but this was evidently destructive of the public tranquillity, because thereby the wrong became progressive, each act of satisfaction, or justice, as it was called, being the source of a new revenge, till the feud became general in the community; and some method would naturally be suggested to put a stop to such confusion. The most direct step is to vest in the magistrate or the law the rights of the injured party, and to arm them with a vindictive power; which principle the policy of more civilized societies has refined to that of making examples in terrorem, with a view of preventing future, not of revenging past crimes. But this requires a firmness of authority to which the Sumatran governments are strangers. They are without coercive power, and the submission of the people is little other than voluntary; especially of the men of influence, who are held in subjection rather by the sense of general utility planted in the breast of mankind, attachment to their family and connexions, and veneration for the spot in which their ancestors were interred, than by the apprehension of any superior authority. These considerations however they would readily forego, renounce their fealty, and quit their country, if in any case they were in danger of paying with life the forfeit of their crimes; to lesser punishments those ties induce them to submit; and to strengthen this hold their customs wisely enjoin that every the remotest branch of the family shall be responsible for the payment of their adjudged and other debts; and in cases of murder the bangun, or compensation, may be levied on the inhabitants of the village the culprit belonged to, if it happens that neither he nor any of his relations can be found.
It seems strange to those used to harsh laws, which often punish more severely than the crime deserves, how a society can function where the worst crime is, according to tradition, atoned for by paying a certain amount of money. This amount is not based on the murderer’s status or wealth, nor the premeditation or other serious aspects of the crime, but only on the status of the person killed. This practice likely originated from a weak government that, unable to enforce the principle of retaliation—the most straightforward punishment—opted for a milder form of compensation instead of complete indemnity. They were able to implement this because guilty individuals often accept a penalty that frees them from worrying about the consequences of their actions. Histories of all states, especially those suffering from internal weaknesses, contain examples of injustices going unpunished due to the severity of the punishments specified by law, which ultimately undermine their own purpose. The original way to avenge a murder was probably through the closest relative or friend of the deceased, but this clearly disturbed public peace, as it perpetuated cycles of revenge, with each act of supposed justice leading to new acts of vengeance, until the conflict affected the entire community; thus, a way to stop such chaos would naturally need to be found. The most straightforward solution is to give the magistrate or law the rights of the wronged party and empower them with the authority to seek vengeance; a principle that more civilized societies have refined to focus on making examples to deter future crimes instead of seeking retribution for past offenses. However, this requires a strength of authority that the Sumatran governments lack. They have no coercive power, and the people's compliance is largely voluntary; especially among influential individuals, who are kept in check more by a sense of common good, love for their families, and respect for the grave sites of their ancestors than by fear of any higher authority. Nevertheless, they would quickly abandon these considerations, renounce their loyalty, and leave the country if they faced the risk of losing their lives as a penalty for their crimes; they only submit to lesser punishments due to those ties. To strengthen this bond, their customs wisely mandate that every distant relative of a debtor is responsible for settling their debts, and in murder cases, the compensation, or bangun, may be collected from the residents of the village where the offender lived, if neither he nor his relatives can be found.
The equality of punishment, which allows to the rich man the faculty of committing, with small inconvenience, crimes that bring utter destruction on the poor man and his family, and which is in fact the greatest inequality, originates certainly from the interested design of those through whose influence the regulation came to be adopted. Its view was to establish a subordination of persons. In Europe the absolute distinction between rich and poor, though too sensibly felt, is not insisted upon in speculation, but rather denied or explained away in general reasoning. Among the Sumatrans it is coolly acknowledged, and a man without property, family, or connexions never, in the partiality of self-love, considers his own life as being of equal value with that of a man of substance. A maxim, though not the practice, of their law, says, "that he who is able to pay the bangun for murder must satisfy the relations of the deceased; he who is unable, must suffer death." But the avarice of the relations prefers selling the body of the delinquent for what his slavery will fetch them (for such is the effect of imposing a penalty that cannot be paid) to the satisfaction of seeing the murder revenged by the public execution of a culprit of that mean description. Capital punishments are therefore almost totally out of use among them; and it is only par la loi du plus fort that the Europeans take the liberty of hanging a notorious criminal now and then, whom however their own chiefs always condemn, and formally sentence.
The equality of punishment, which allows wealthy individuals to commit crimes with little consequence while causing complete devastation for poor individuals and their families, represents the greatest inequality. This inequality likely arises from the self-serving motives of those who influenced the adoption of these regulations. Their goal was to create a hierarchy among people. In Europe, the absolute divide between rich and poor, although strongly felt, isn't openly discussed in theory but is often denied or justified in general arguments. Among the Sumatrans, this divide is openly recognized, and a person without property, family, or connections never, in their self-interest, considers their life to be equally valuable as that of a person with wealth. A principle of their law, though not always followed, states, "Anyone who can pay the compensation for murder must appease the relatives of the deceased; those who cannot must face death." However, the greed of the relatives leads them to sell the body of the offender for whatever they can get from their enslavement (which is the outcome of imposing a penalty that can't be paid) instead of seeking satisfaction from the public execution of such a lowly offender. As a result, capital punishment is nearly nonexistent among them; it's only through the law of the stronger that Europeans occasionally take the liberty of hanging a well-known criminal, who their own leaders always condemn and formally sentence.
CORPORAL PUNISHMENT.
Corporal punishment.
Corporal punishment of any kind is rare. The chain, and a sort of stocks, made of the pinang tree, are adopted from us; the word pasong, now commonly used to denote the latter, originally signifying and being still frequently applied to confinement in general. A kind of cage made use of in the country is probably their own invention. "How do you secure a prisoner (a man was asked) without employing a chain or our stocks?" "We pen him up," said he, "as we would a bear!" The cage is made of bamboos laid horizontally in a square, piled alternately, secured by timbers at the corners, and strongly covered in at top. To lead a runaway they fasten a rattan round his neck, and, passing it through a bamboo somewhat longer than his arms, they bring his hands together and make them fast to the bamboo, in a state rather of constraint than of pain, which I believe never is wantonly or unnecessarily inflicted. If the offender is of a desperate character they bind him hands and feet and sling him on a pole. When they would convey a person from accident or otherwise unable to walk they make a palanquin by splitting a large bamboo near the middle of its length, where they contrive to keep it open so that the cavity forms a bed, the ends being preserved whole, to rest upon their shoulders.
Corporal punishment of any kind is uncommon. The chain and a type of stocks made from the pinang tree are borrowed from us; the term pasong, now often used to mean the latter, originally referred to confinement in general and is still frequently applied that way. A type of cage used in the area is likely their own invention. "How do you secure a prisoner (someone asked) without using a chain or our stocks?" "We cage him," he replied, "just like we would a bear!" The cage is made of bamboos laid horizontally in a square, stacked alternately, secured by timber at the corners, and strongly covered on top. To capture a runaway, they put a rattan around his neck, pass it through a bamboo longer than his arms, bringing his hands together and tying them to the bamboo, creating a state of constraint rather than pain, which I believe is never inflicted without reason. If the offender is particularly dangerous, they bind his hands and feet and carry him on a pole. When they need to transport someone who is injured or otherwise unable to walk, they make a palanquin by splitting a large bamboo near the middle, where they manage to keep it open to create a bed, with the ends left whole for resting on their shoulders.
The custom of exacting the bangun for murder seems only designed with a view of making a compensation to the injured family, and not of punishing the offender. The word signifies awaking or raising up, and the deceased is supposed to be replaced, or raised again to his family, in the payment of a sum proportioned to his rank, or equivalent to his or her personal value. The price of a female slave is generally more than that of a male, and therefore, I heard a chief say, is the bangun of a woman more than that of a man. It is upon this principle that their laws take no cognizance of the distinction between a wilful murder and what we term manslaughter. The loss is the same to the family, and therefore the compensations are alike. A dupati of Laye, in an ill hour, stepped unwarily across the mouth of a cannon at the instant it was fired off for a salute, and was killed by the explosion, upon which his relations immediately sued the sergeant of the country-guard, who applied the match, for the recovery of the bangun; but they were cast, and upon these grounds: that the dupati was instrumental in his own death, and that the Company's servants, being amenable to other laws for their crimes, were not, by established custom, subject to the bangun or other penalties inflicted by the native chiefs, for accidents resulting from the execution of their duty. The tippong bumi, expiation, or purification of the earth from the stain it has received, was however gratuitously paid. No plea was set up that the action was unpremeditated, and the event chance-medley.
The practice of demanding the bangun for murder seems mainly focused on providing compensation to the victim's family rather than punishing the offender. The term means to awaken or raise up, and it is believed that the deceased is replaced or brought back to their family through a payment based on their status or personal worth. Generally, the price for a female slave is higher than for a male, so, as I heard a chief say, the bangun for a woman is greater than that for a man. This principle is why their laws do not differentiate between willful murder and what we call manslaughter. The loss is the same for the family, so the compensations are treated equally. A dupati from Laye unfortunately stepped into the path of a cannon just as it was fired for a salute and was killed in the explosion. His relatives immediately sued the sergeant of the country guard who lit the match for the bangun; however, they lost, based on the reasoning that the dupati contributed to his own death and that the Company’s servants, who are accountable under different laws for their actions, were not, according to custom, subject to the bangun or other penalties imposed by local chiefs for accidents that occurred while performing their duties. Nevertheless, the tippong bumi, which is meant to purify the earth from the stain it has received, was paid out of goodwill. No defense was made that the action was unplanned or that the incident was accidental.
The introduction of this custom is beyond the extent of Sumatran tradition, and has no connexion with, or dependence on, Mahometanism, being established amongst the most inland people from time immemorial. In early ages it was by no means confined to that part of the world. The bangun is perfectly the same as the compensation for murder in the rude institutions of our Saxon ancestors and other northern nations. It is the eric of Ireland, and the apoinon of the Greeks. In the compartments of the shield of Achilles Homer describes the adjudgment of a fine for homicide. It would seem then to be a natural step in the advances from anarchy to settled government, and that it can only take place in such societies as have already a strong idea of the value of personal property, who esteem its possession of the next importance to that of life, and place it in competition with the strongest passion that seizes the human soul.
The origins of this custom go beyond Sumatran tradition and have no connection to or reliance on Islam, having been established among the inland peoples since ancient times. In the early days, it wasn't limited to that part of the world. The bangun is essentially the same as the compensation for murder found in the early customs of our Saxon ancestors and other Northern nations. It is like the eric of Ireland and the apoinon of the Greeks. In the sections of Achilles' shield, Homer describes the judgment of a fine for homicide. It seems to be a natural progression from chaos to organized government, and it can only happen in societies that already have a strong sense of the value of personal property, where owning it is considered just as important as life itself and is placed in competition with the deepest passions that drive human behavior.
The compensation is so regularly established among the Sumatrans that any other satisfaction is seldom demanded. In the first heat of resentment retaliation is sometimes attempted, but the spirit soon evaporates, and application is usually made, upon the immediate discovery of the fact, to the chiefs of the country for the exertion of their influence to oblige the criminal to pay the bangun. His death is then not thought of unless he is unable, and his family unwilling, to raise the established sum. Instances, it is true, occur in which the prosecutor, knowing the European law in such case, will, from motives of revenge, urge to the Resident the propriety of executing the offender rather than receive the money; but if the latter is ready to pay it it is contrary to their laws to proceed further. The degree of satisfaction that attends the payment of the bangun is generally considered as absolute to the parties concerned; they receive it as full compensation, and pretend to no farther claim upon the murderer and his family. Slight provocations however have been sometimes known to renew the feud, and there are not wanting instances of a son's revenging his father's murder and willingly refunding the bangun. When in an affray there happen to be several persons killed on both sides, the business of justice is only to state the reciprocal losses, in the form of an account current, and order the balance to be discharged, if the numbers be unequal. The following is a relation of the circumstances of one of these bloody feuds, which happened whilst I was in the island, but which become every year more rare where the influence of our government extends.
The compensation is so well-established among the Sumatrans that any other form of reparation is rarely demanded. In the heat of anger, people sometimes try to retaliate, but that feeling quickly fades, and they usually turn to the local chiefs as soon as they find out what happened, asking them to use their influence to make the offender pay the bangun. Death isn’t even considered unless the offender can't pay and their family refuses to help. There are occasions when the prosecutor, aware of European law, will push the Resident to execute the offender out of revenge instead of accepting the money. However, if the offender is willing to pay, it goes against their laws to take it any further. The level of satisfaction that comes with the payment of the bangun is generally viewed as final by those involved; they accept it as complete compensation and don’t claim anything more from the murderer or their family. Still, minor provocations have been known to reignite old feuds, and there are cases where a son has avenged his father’s murder while opting to pay back the bangun. In situations where multiple people are killed on both sides during a conflict, the role of justice is merely to summarize the losses for each side, like a balance sheet, and direct that the difference be settled if the numbers aren’t equal. The following recounts the details of one such bloody feud that occurred while I was on the island, although these incidents are becoming increasingly rare where our government’s influence reaches.
ACCOUNT OF A FEUD.
FEUD BACKSTORY.
Raddin Siban was the head of a tribe in the district of Manna, of which Pangeran Raja-Kalippah was the official chief; though by the customs of the country he had no right of sovereignty over him. The pangeran's not allowing him what he thought an adequate share of fines, and other advantages annexed to his rank, was the foundation of a jealousy and ill will between them, which an event that happened a few years since raised to the highest pitch of family feud. Lessut, a younger brother of the pangeran, had a wife who was very handsome, and whom Raddin Siban had endeavoured to procure, whilst a virgin, for HIS younger brother, who was in love with her: but the pangeran had contrived to circumvent him, and obtained the girl for Lessut. However it seems the lady herself had conceived a violent liking for the brother of Raddin Siban, who found means to enjoy her after she was married, or was violently suspected so to have done. The consequence was that Lessut killed him to revenge the dishonour of his bed. Upon this the families were presently up in arms, but the English Resident interfering preserved the peace of the country, and settled the affair agreeably to the customs of the place by bangun and fine. But this did not prove sufficient to extinguish the fury which raged in the hearts of Raddin Siban's family, whose relation was murdered. It only served to delay the revenge until a proper opportunity offered of gratifying it. The people of the country being called together on a particular occasion, the two inimical families were assembled, at the same time, in Manna bazaar. Two younger brothers (they had been five in all) of Raddin Siban, going to the cockpit, saw Raja Muda the next brother of the pangeran, and Lessut his younger brother, in the open part of a house which they passed. They quickly returned, drew their krises, and attacked the pangeran's brothers, calling to them, if they were men, to defend themselves. The challenge was instantly accepted, Lessut, the unfortunate husband, fell; but the aggressors were both killed by Raja Muda, who was himself much wounded. The affair was almost over before the scuffle was perceived. The bodies were lying on the ground, and Raja Muda was supporting himself against a tree which stood near the spot, when Raddin Siban, who was in a house on the opposite side of the bazaar at the time the affray happened, being made acquainted with the circumstances, came over the way, with his lance in his hand. He passed on the contrary side of the tree, and did not see Raja Muda, but began to stab with his weapon the dead body of Lessut, in excess of rage, on seeing the bloody remains of his two brothers. Just then, Raja Muda, who was half dead, but had his kris in his hand, still unseen by Raddin Siban, crawled a step or two and thrust the weapon into his side, saying "Matti kau"--"die thou!" Raddin Siban spoke not a word, but put his hand on the wound and walked across to the house from whence he came, at the door of which he dropped down and expired. Such was the catastrophe. Raja Muda survived his wounds, but being much deformed by them lives a melancholy example of the effects of these barbarous feuds.
Raddin Siban was the leader of a tribe in the Manna district, where Pangeran Raja-Kalippah was the official chief; however, according to local customs, he didn't have any real authority over Siban. The pangeran's refusal to give him what he felt was a fair share of fines and other benefits tied to his rank created jealousy and animosity between them, which escalated into a major family feud after an incident a few years back. Lessut, a younger brother of the pangeran, had a beautiful wife, who Raddin Siban had tried to secure for his younger brother, who was in love with her while she was still a virgin. However, the pangeran managed to outmaneuver him and secured the girl for Lessut. It turned out that the lady had developed a strong attraction to Raddin Siban's brother, who found a way to be with her even after she was married, or there were strong suspicions that he had. As a result, Lessut killed him to avenge the dishonor to his marriage. This sparked a violent conflict between the families, but the English Resident intervened and helped maintain peace by settling the matter according to local customs with a bangun and fine. However, this was not enough to quell the rage in Raddin Siban's family over their relative's murder; it merely postponed their desire for revenge until the right moment arose. On a specific occasion, the people of the area gathered, and both feuding families found themselves in the Manna bazaar at the same time. Two younger brothers (there were five in total) of Raddin Siban went to the cockpit and saw Raja Muda, the next brother of the pangeran, and Lessut, his younger brother, in an open area of a house nearby. They quickly returned, drew their krises, and attacked the pangeran's brothers, daring them to defend themselves if they were men. The challenge was immediately accepted. Lessut, the unfortunate husband, fell, but the attackers were both killed by Raja Muda, who was badly injured himself. The fight almost ended before anyone noticed the commotion. The bodies lay on the ground, and Raja Muda was propped against a tree nearby when Raddin Siban, who had been in a house across the bazaar when the fight happened, learned what had transpired and rushed over with his lance in hand. He went around the tree without seeing Raja Muda and started stabbing Lessut's lifeless body in a fit of rage at seeing the bloody remains of his brothers. Just then, Raja Muda, who was near death but still managed to hold onto his kris, crawled a couple of steps and thrust his weapon into Raddin Siban's side, saying "Matti kau"—"die thou!" Raddin Siban didn’t say a word; he just placed his hand on the wound and walked back to the house from which he came. At the door, he collapsed and died. This was the tragic outcome. Raja Muda survived his injuries but, severely disfigured, became a tragic reminder of the consequences of such brutal feuds.
PROOF OF THEFT.
THEFT EVIDENCE.
In cases of theft the swearing a robbery against a person suspected is of no effect, and justly, for were it otherwise nothing would be more common than the prosecution of innocent persons. The proper proofs are either seizure of the person in the fact before witnesses, or discovery of the goods stolen in possession of one who can give no satisfactory account how he came by them. As it frequently happens that a man finds part only of what he had lost it remains with him, when the robbery is proved, to ascertain the whole amount, by oath, which in that point is held sufficient.
In theft cases, accusing someone of robbery without solid proof doesn’t work, and rightly so, because otherwise, it would be way too easy to prosecute innocent people. The proper evidence is either catching someone in the act in front of witnesses or finding the stolen goods in the possession of someone who can’t explain how they got them. Since it often happens that a person only finds part of what they lost, it’s up to them, once the robbery is proven, to determine the total amount by swearing an oath, which is considered enough for that purpose.
LAW RESPECTING DEBTS.
Debt Law.
The law which renders all the members of a family reciprocally bound for the security of each others' debts forms a strong connexion among them, and occasions the elder branches to be particularly watchful of the conduct of those for whose imprudence they must be answerable.
The law that makes all family members responsible for each other's debts creates a strong bond between them and causes the older members to be especially careful about the behavior of those whose mistakes they have to answer for.
When a debtor is unable to pay what he owes, and has no relation or friends capable of doing it for him, or when the children of a deceased person do not find property enough to discharge the debts of their parent, they are forced to the state which is called mengiring, which simply means to follow or be dependent on, but here implies the becoming a species of bond-slaves to the creditor, who allows them subsistence and clothing but does not appropriate the produce of their labour to the diminution of their debt. Their condition is better than that of pure slavery in this, that the creditor cannot strike them, and they can change their masters by prevailing on another person to pay their debt and accept of their labour on the same terms. Of course they may obtain their liberty if they can by any means procure a sum equal to their debt; whereas a slave, though possessing ever so large property, has not the right of purchasing his liberty. If however the creditor shall demand formally the amount of his debt from a person mengiring, at three several times, allowing a certain number of days between each demand, and the latter is not able to persuade anyone to redeem him, he becomes, by the custom of the country, a pure slave, upon the creditor's giving notice to the chief of the transaction. This is the resource he has against the laziness or untoward behaviour of his debtor, who might otherwise, in the state of mengiring, be only a burden to him. If the children of a deceased debtor are too young to be of service the charge of their maintenance is added to the debt. This opens a door for many iniquitous practices, and it is in the rigorous and frequently perverted exertion of these rights which a creditor has over his debtor that the chiefs are enabled to oppress the lower class of people, and from which abuses the English Residents find it necessary to be the most watchful to restrain them. In some cases one half of the produce of the labour is applied to the reduction of the debt, and this situation of the insolvent debtor is termed be-blah. Meranggau is the condition of a married woman who remains as a pledge for a debt in the house of the creditor of her husband. If any attempt should be made upon her person the proof of it annuls the debt; but should she bring an accusation of that nature, and be unable to prove it to the satisfaction of the court, and the man takes an oath in support of his innocence, the debt must be immediately paid by the family, or the woman be disposed of as a slave.
When a debtor can't pay what they owe and has no relatives or friends who can help, or when the children of a deceased person find there are not enough assets to settle their parent's debts, they enter a situation called "mengiring," which simply means to follow or depend on someone. However, in this context, it implies becoming a sort of bonded servant to the creditor, who provides them with basic food and clothing but does not apply the earnings from their labor to reduce their debt. Their situation is better than outright slavery because the creditor can't physically harm them, and they can change their masters by finding someone else to pay off their debt in exchange for their work under the same conditions. They can gain their freedom if they manage to gather the amount equal to their debt; meanwhile, a slave, no matter how much property they own, does not have the right to buy their freedom. If the creditor formally demands their debt three times from a person in "mengiring," allowing a certain number of days between each demand, and the debtor is unable to convince anyone to redeem them, they become a full slave, following a local custom, once the creditor notifies the local authority. This rule serves as a check against the laziness or bad behavior of the debtor, who might otherwise just be a burden. If the children of a deceased debtor are too young to contribute, their care becomes part of the debt. This situation can lead to many unfair practices, and it is in the strict and often abused enforcement of these rights that creditors can oppress the lower classes, prompting English Residents to remain vigilant against these abuses. In some instances, half of the profits from the debtor's labor go toward reducing the debt, and this condition is referred to as "be-blah." "Meranggau" describes a married woman who is held as collateral for her husband's debt in the creditor's home. If someone tries to assault her, it cancels the debt; however, if she makes such an accusation but can't prove it to the court's satisfaction, and the man swears he is innocent, the family must pay the debt immediately, or the woman will be sold into slavery.
When a man of one district or country has a debt owing to him from the inhabitant of a neighbouring country, of which he cannot recover payment, an usual resource is to seize on one or more of his children and carry them off; which they call andak. The daughter of a Rejang dupati was carried off in this manner by the Labun people. Not hearing for some time from her father, she sent him cuttings of her hair and nails, by which she intimated a resolution of destroying herself if not soon released.
When a man from one area has a debt owed to him by someone from a neighboring area that he can't collect, a common way to resolve this is to take one or more of his children and abduct them, a practice known as andak. The daughter of a Rejang dupati was taken this way by the Labun people. After not hearing from her father for a while, she sent him pieces of her hair and nails to signal that she would harm herself if she wasn't released soon.
SLAVERY.
SLAVERY.
The right of slavery is established in Sumatra, as it is throughout the East, and has been all over the world; yet but few instances occur of the country people actually having slaves; though they are common enough in the Malayan, or sea-port towns. Their domestics and labourers are either dependant relations, or the orang mengiring above described, who are usually called debtors, but should be distinguished by the term of insolvent debtors. The simple manners of the people require that their servants should live, in a great measure, on a footing of equality with the rest of the family, which is inconsistent with the authority necessary to be maintained over slaves who have no principle to restrain them but that of personal fear,* and know that their civil condition cannot be altered for the worse.
The right to slavery exists in Sumatra, just like it does throughout the East and has been found all over the world. However, there are only a few cases of local people actually having slaves; they are much more common in the Malayan or port towns. The domestic workers and laborers are either family members or the orang mengiring mentioned earlier, who are typically referred to as debtors but should really be called insolvent debtors. The straightforward lifestyle of the people means that their servants often live on a nearly equal level with the rest of the family, which conflicts with the authority needed to manage slaves who have no motivation to behave other than personal fear,* and who know that their social status can't get any worse.
(*Footnote. I do not mean to assert that all men in the condition of slaves are devoid of principle: I have experienced the contrary, and found in them affection and strict honesty: but that there does not result from their situation as slaves any principle of moral rectitude; whereas every other condition of society has annexed to it ideas of duty and mutual obligation arising from a sense of general utility. That sublime species of morality derived from the injunctions of religion it is almost universally their fate to be likewise strangers to, because slavery is found inconsistent with the spirit of the gospel, not merely as inculcating philanthropy but inspiring a principle of equality amongst mankind.)
(*Footnote. I'm not saying that all men who are enslaved lack principles: I've seen the opposite and found them to have genuine affection and strong honesty. However, their status as slaves doesn’t instill in them any sense of moral righteousness, while every other social condition comes with a sense of duty and mutual obligation based on the common good. Unfortunately, the higher morals linked to religious teachings are often beyond their reach, as slavery contradicts the spirit of the gospel, which promotes not only compassion but also the idea of equality among all people.)
There is this advantage also, that when a debtor absconds they have recourse to his relations for the amount of his debt, who, if unable to pay it, must mengiring in his room; whereas when a slave makes his escape the law can give no redress, and his value is lost to the owner. These people moreover are from habit backward to strike, and the state of slavery unhappily requires the frequent infliction of punishment in that mode. A slave cannot possess independently any property; yet it rarely happens that a master is found mean and sordid enough to despoil them of the fruits of their industry; and their liberty is generally granted them when in a condition to purchase it, though they cannot demand it of right. It is nothing uncommon for those belonging to the Europeans to possess slaves of their own, and to acquire considerable substance. Their condition is here for the most part less unhappy than that of persons in other situations of life. I am far from wishing to diminish the horror that should ever accompany the general idea of a state which, whilst it degrades the species, I am convinced is not necessary among mankind; but I cannot help remarking, as an extraordinary fact, that if there is one class of people eminently happy above all others upon earth it is the body of Caffres, or negro slaves belonging to the India Company at Bencoolen. They are well clothed and fed, and supplied with a proper allowance of liquor; their work is by no means severe; the persons appointed as their immediate overseers are chosen for their merit from amongst themselves; they have no occasion of care or anxiety for the past or future, and are naturally of a lively and open temper. The contemplation of the effects which such advantages produce must afford the highest gratification to a benevolent mind. They are usually seen laughing or singing whilst at work, and the intervals allowed them are mostly employed in dancing to their rude instrumental music, which frequently begins at sunset and ceases only with the daylight that recalls them to their labour. Since they were first carried thither, from different parts of Africa and Madagascar, to the present hour, not so much as the rumour of disturbance or discontent has ever been known to proceed from them. They hold the natives of the island in contempt, have a degree of antipathy towards them, and enjoy any mischief they can do them; and these in their turn regard the Caffres as devils half humanized.
There’s also the advantage that when a debtor runs away, creditors can turn to his family for the debt amount, and if they can’t pay it, they must cover for him. However, when a slave escapes, the law offers no remedy, and the owner's investment is lost. Additionally, due to their upbringing, these individuals are usually hesitant to strike out, and the system of slavery unfortunately requires frequent punishment in that way. A slave can’t truly own any property on their own, but it’s rare to find a master so mean that they take away the results of the slave’s hard work; generally, slaves are granted their freedom when they can afford to buy it, even though they can't demand it as a right. It’s not uncommon for those tied to Europeans to own their own slaves and accumulate significant wealth. Their situation is often less unfortunate than that of people in other walks of life. I don’t wish to lessen the horror that should always surround the concept of a state that degrades humanity, which I believe is unnecessary in society; but I must point out, as a curious fact, that if there’s any group of people that seems especially happy above all others, it’s the Caffres, or black slaves owned by the India Company in Bencoolen. They are well-dressed, well-fed, and given a proper amount of liquor; their work isn’t too harsh, and the people who oversee them are chosen for their skills from among themselves. They don’t have to worry about the past or the future and tend to be naturally cheerful and open. Seeing the positive effects of such circumstances must bring joy to a kind-hearted individual. They are often seen laughing or singing while they work, and their breaks are mostly spent dancing to their simple music, which usually starts at sunset and goes on until dawn when they return to their labor. Since they were first brought over from various parts of Africa and Madagascar, there hasn’t been a whisper of unrest or discontent from them. They look down on the island’s natives, feel a certain dislike towards them, and take pleasure in any mischief they can cause. In turn, the natives see the Caffres as half-human devils.
The practice said to prevail elsewhere of men selling themselves for slaves is repugnant to the customs of the Sumatrans, as it seems to reason. It is an absurdity to barter anything valuable, much more civil existence, for a sum which, by the very act of receiving, becomes again the property of the buyer. Yet if a man runs in debt without a prospect of paying, he does virtually the same thing, and this in cases of distress is not uncommon, in order to relieve, perhaps, a beloved wife, or favourite child, from similar bondage. A man has even been known to apply in confidence to a friend to sell him to a third person, concealing from the purchaser the nature of the transaction till the money was appropriated.
The practice found in other places of men selling themselves into slavery is offensive to the customs of the Sumatran people, as it logically should be. It’s ridiculous to trade anything valuable, let alone one's freedom, for an amount that, once accepted, immediately becomes the property of the buyer again. However, if a person goes into debt without a way to pay it off, he is effectively doing the same thing, and this isn’t uncommon in tough times when someone may do it to save a beloved spouse or child from facing a similar fate. There have even been instances where a man has quietly asked a friend to sell him to someone else, hiding the true nature of the deal from the buyer until the money was received.
Ignorant stragglers are often picked up in the country by lawless knaves in power and sold beyond the hills. These have sometimes procured their liberty again, and prosecuting their kidnappers have recovered large damages. In the district of Allas a custom prevails by which, if a man has been sold to the hill people, however unfairly, he is restricted on his return from associating with his countrymen as their equal unless he brings with him a sum of money and pays a fine for his re-enfranchisement to his kalippah or chief. This regulation has taken its rise from an idea of contamination among the people, and from art and avarice among the chiefs.
Ignorant stragglers are often captured in the countryside by ruthless criminals in power and sold off to distant lands. Sometimes, these individuals manage to regain their freedom and, by suing their kidnappers, have won significant compensation. In the Allas district, there's a custom that if a man has been sold to the hill people, no matter how unfairly, he can't mingle with his fellow countrymen as an equal upon his return unless he brings a certain amount of money and pays a fine for his re-admittance to his kalippah, or chief. This rule stems from a belief in contamination among the people, as well as from manipulation and greed among the leaders.
CHAPTER 14.
MODES OF MARRIAGE, AND CUSTOMS RELATIVE THERETO.
POLYGAMY.
FESTIVALS.
GAMES.
COCK-FIGHTING.
USE AND EFFECTS OF OPIUM.
WAYS OF MARRIAGE, AND RELATED CUSTOMS.
MULTIPLE MARRIAGES.
CELEBRATIONS.
GAMES.
COCKFIGHTING.
USES AND IMPACTS OF OPIUM.
MOTIVES FOR ALTERING SOME OF THEIR MARRIAGE CUSTOMS.
MOTIVES FOR CHANGING SOME OF THEIR MARRIAGE TRADITIONS.
By much the greater number of the legal disputes among these people have their source in the intricacy attending their marriage contracts. In most uncivilized countries these matters are very simple, the dictates of nature being obeyed, or the calls of appetite satisfied, with little ceremony or form of convention; but with the Sumatrans the difficulties, both precedent and subsequent, are increased to a degree unknown even in the most refined states. To remedy these inconveniences, which might be supposed to deter men from engaging in marriage, was the view of the Resident of Laye, before mentioned, who prevailed upon them to simplify their engagements, as the means of preventing litigation between families, and of increasing the population of the country. How far his liberal views will be answered by having thus influenced the people to change their customs, whether they will not soon relapse into the ancient track; and whether in fact the cause that he supposed did actually contribute to retard population, I shall not pretend to determine; but as the last is a point on which a difference of opinion prevails I shall take the liberty of quoting here the sentiments of another servant of the Company (the late Mr. John Crisp) who possessed an understanding highly enlightened.
Most of the legal disputes among these people stem from the complexity of their marriage contracts. In many uncivilized countries, these matters are straightforward, with natural instincts guiding actions and desires met with little ceremony or formal conventions. However, for the Sumatrans, the complications before and after marriage are more pronounced than in even the most sophisticated societies. To address these issues, which could discourage people from marrying, the Resident of Laye, mentioned earlier, encouraged them to simplify their agreements to reduce family disputes and boost the country's population. It's uncertain how effective his progressive ideas will be in changing people's customs, whether they will revert to old practices, and if the factors he identified truly hinder population growth. I won’t claim to have the answers, but since opinions diverge on this topic, I’ll take the liberty of quoting the thoughts of another Company servant, the late Mr. John Crisp, who had a highly enlightened perspective.
REASONS AGAINST THIS ALTERATION.
REASONS TO AVOID THIS CHANGE.
This part of the island is in a low state of population, but it is an error to ascribe this to the mode of obtaining wives by purchase. The circumstance of children constituting part of the property of the parents proves a most powerful incentive to matrimony, and there is not perhaps any country on the face of the earth where marriage is more general than here, instances of persons of either sex passing their lives in a state of celibacy being extremely rare. The necessity of purchasing does not prove such an obstacle to matrimony as is supposed. Was it indeed true that every man was obliged to remain single till he had accumulated, from the produce of his pepper-garden, a sum adequate to the purchase of a wife, married pairs would truly be scarce. But the people have other resources; there are few families who are not in possession of some small substance; they breed goats and buffaloes, and in general keep in reserve some small sum for particular purposes. The purchase-money of the daughter serves also to provide wives for the sons. Certain it is that the fathers are rarely at a loss for money to procure them wives so soon as they become marriageable. In the districts under my charge are about eight thousand inhabitants, among whom I do not conceive it would be possible to find ten instances of men of the age of thirty years unmarried. We must then seek for other causes of the paucity of inhabitants, and indeed they are sufficiently obvious; among these we may reckon that the women are by nature unprolific, and cease gestation at an early age; that, almost totally unskilled in the medical art, numbers fall victims to the endemic diseases of a climate nearly as fatal to its indigenous inhabitants as to the strangers who settle among them: to which we may add that the indolence and inactivity of the natives tend to relax and enervate the bodily frame, and to abridge the natural period of their lives.
This part of the island has a low population, but it's a mistake to blame this on the practice of buying wives. The fact that children are considered part of a parent's property actually gives a strong incentive for marriage, and there may not be any place on earth where marriage is more common than here, with very few people living their lives single. The requirement to buy a wife isn’t as big of a barrier to marriage as people think. If it were true that every man had to stay single until he saved enough money from his pepper garden to buy a wife, then married couples would be rare. But people have other resources; most families have some savings. They raise goats and buffaloes and usually keep a little money set aside for special purposes. The money paid for daughters also helps sons get wives. It’s clear that fathers rarely struggle to find money to buy wives for their eligible sons. In the areas I oversee, there are about eight thousand people, and I doubt I could find ten single men over the age of thirty. So, we need to look for other reasons for the low population, which are quite clear; among these are the fact that women tend to have few children and stop having them at a young age; that, lacking medical knowledge, many fall victim to local diseases, which are nearly as deadly to locals as they are to newcomers; and that the laziness and inactivity of the locals weaken their bodies and shorten their lifespans.
MODES OF MARRIAGE.
Marriage Types.
The modes of marriage, according to the original institutions of these people, are by jujur, by ambel anak, or by semando. The jujur is a certain sum of money given by one man to another as a consideration for the person of his daughter, whose situation, in this case, differs not much from that of a slave to the man she marries, and to his family. His absolute property in her depends however upon some nice circumstances. Beside the batang jujur (or main sum) there are certain appendages or branches, one of which, the tali kulo, of five dollars, is usually, from motives of delicacy or friendship, left unpaid, and so long as that is the case a relationship is understood to subsist between the two families, and the parents of the woman have a right to interfere on occasions of ill treatment: the husband is also liable to be fined for wounding her, with other limitations of absolute right. When that sum is finally paid, which seldom happens but in cases of violent quarrel, the tali kulo (tie of relationship) is said to be putus (broken), and the woman becomes to all intents the slave of her lord.*
The types of marriage, according to the original customs of these people, include jujur, ambel anak, and semando. Jujur is a specific amount of money given from one man to another as payment for his daughter, whose status in this situation isn't much different from that of a slave to the man she marries and his family. His complete ownership of her, however, depends on certain specific circumstances. In addition to the batang jujur (or main amount), there are other components, one of which is the tali kulo, usually five dollars, that is often left unpaid out of delicacy or friendship. As long as this payment remains unsettled, a relationship is understood to exist between the two families, and the woman's parents have the right to intervene in cases of mistreatment. The husband can also be fined for hurting her, along with other limitations on his absolute rights. When that payment is finally made, which happens rarely and typically only in cases of severe conflict, the tali kulo (tie of relationship) is said to be putus (broken), and the woman effectively becomes the servant of her husband.
(*Footnote. I cannot omit to remark here that, however apposite the word tali, which in Malayan signifies a cord, may be to the subject of the marriage tie, there is very strong evidence of the term, as applied to this ceremony, having been adopted from the customs of the Hindu inhabitants of the peninsula of India, in whose language it has a different meaning. Among others who have described their rites is M. Sonnerat. In speaking of the mode of marriage called pariam, which, like the jujur, n'est autre chose qu'un achat que le mari fait de sa femme, he says, le mari doit aussi fournir le tali, petit joyau d'or, qu'il attache avec un cordon au col de la fille; c'est la derniere ceremonie; elle donne la sanction au marriage, qui ne peut plus etre rompu des que le tali est attache. Voyage aux Indes etc. tome 1 page 70. The reader will also find the Sumatran mode of marriage by ambel anak, or adoption, exactly described at page 72. An engraving of the tali is given by P. Paolino, Systema Brahmanicum tab. 22. This resemblance is not confined to the rites of marriage, for it is remarked by Sir W. Jones that, "among the laws of the Sumatrans two positive rules concerning sureties and interest appear to be taken word for word from the Indian legislators." Asiatic Researches Volume 3 page 9.)
(*Footnote. I must point out that while the word "tali," which means a cord in Malay, seems relevant to the concept of marriage ties, there's strong evidence that the term, as used in this ceremony, was borrowed from the customs of the Hindu communities in India, where it has a different meaning. M. Sonnerat is one of those who have described these rites. When discussing the marriage practice called "pariam," which, like "jujur," is essentially a purchase of the wife by the husband, he states that the husband must also provide the "tali," a small gold ornament, which he attaches with a cord around the woman's neck; this is the final ceremony that legitimizes the marriage, making it unbreakable once the "tali" is secured. Voyage aux Indes etc. tome 1 page 70. The reader can also find a detailed description of the Sumatran marriage tradition of "ambel anak," or adoption, on page 72. An illustration of the "tali" can be found in P. Paolino's Systema Brahmanicum tab. 22. This similarity extends beyond marriage rites, as Sir W. Jones notes that "among the laws of the Sumatrans, two specific rules regarding sureties and interest appear to be taken word for word from the Indian lawmakers." Asiatic Researches Volume 3 page 9.)
She has then no title to claim a divorce in any predicament; and he may sell her, making only the first offer to her relations. The other appendages as already mentioned are the tulis tanggil (the meaning of which I cannot satisfactorily ascertain, this and many other of the legal terms being in the Rejang or the Passummah and not the Malayan language) and the upah daun kodo, which is a consideration for the expense of the marriage feast, paid to the girl's parent, who provides it. But sometimes it is deposited at the wedding, when a distribution is made of it amongst the old people present. The words allude to the leaf in which the rice is served up. These additional sums are seldom paid or claimed before the principal is defrayed, of which a large proportion, as fifty, eighty, and sometimes a hundred and four dollars, is laid down at the time of marriage, or in the first visit (after the parties are determined in their regards) made by the father of the young man, or the bujang himself, to the father of the woman. Upon opening his design this money is tendered as a present, and the other's acceptance of it is a token that he is inclined to forward the match. It lies often in his hands three, six, or twelve months before the marriage is consummated. He sometimes sends for more, and is seldom refused. Until at least fifty dollars are thus deposited the man cannot take his wife home; but so long as the matter continues dalam rasa-an (under consideration) it would be deemed scandalous in the father to listen to any other proposals. When there is a difficulty in producing the necessary sum it is not uncommon to resort to an expedient termed mengiring jujur, that is, to continue a debtor with the family until he can raise money sufficient to redeem himself; and after this long credit is usually given for the remainder. Years often elapse, if the families continue on good terms, without the debt being demanded, particularly when a hundred and four dollars have been paid, unless distress obliges them to it. Sometimes it remains unadjusted to the second and third generation, and it is not uncommon to see a man suing for the jujur of the sister of his grandfather. These debts constitute in fact the chief part of their substance; and a person is esteemed rich who has several of them due to him for his daughters, sisters, aunts, and great aunts. Debts of this nature are looked upon as sacred, and are scarcely ever lost. In Passummah, if the race of a man is extinct, and some of these remain unpaid, the dusun or village to which the family belonged must make it good to the creditor; but this is not insisted upon amongst the Rejangs.
She doesn't have any right to ask for a divorce in any situation; and he can sell her, as long as he first offers it to her family. The other aspects mentioned earlier include the tulis tanggil (which I can't clearly define, as this and many other legal terms are in Rejang or Passummah, not in Malay) and the upah daun kodo, which is payment for the expenses of the wedding feast, given to the girl's parents, who organize it. Sometimes this amount is handed out at the wedding, distributed among the older guests present. The term refers to the leaf used to serve rice. These extra sums are rarely paid or requested before the main amount is settled, which can be a large sum, like fifty, eighty, or sometimes a hundred and four dollars, paid at the time of the marriage, or during the first visit (once the parties have agreed) made by the young man's father, or the young man himself, to the girl's father. When he reveals his intentions, this money is given as a gift, and acceptance of it shows that the girl's father is open to supporting the marriage. This money often stays with him for three, six, or twelve months before the marriage takes place. He may sometimes request more and is usually granted it. Until at least fifty dollars is deposited, the man can't take his wife home; but as long as the matter is still dalam rasa-an (under consideration), it would be considered improper for the father to entertain other proposals. If there are difficulties in gathering the necessary funds, it’s not uncommon to use a method called mengiring jujur, which means he remains in debt to the family until he can raise enough money to settle the debt; afterward, a long credit is usually given for the remainder. Years often pass, provided the families remain on good terms, without the debt being asked for, especially when a hundred and four dollars has been paid unless a crisis forces them to demand it. Sometimes, these debts remain unsettled into the second and third generations, and it’s not unusual to see a man claiming the jujur of his grandfather's sister. These debts are actually a significant part of their wealth; and a person is considered rich if they have several of these debts owed to them for their daughters, sisters, aunts, and great-aunts. Such debts are regarded as sacred and are rarely lost. In Passummah, if a man's lineage ends and any of these debts are still unpaid, the dusun or village that the family belongs to must settle the amount to the creditor; but this is not strictly enforced among the Rejangs.
In lieu of paying the jujur a barter transaction, called libei, sometimes takes place, where one gadis (virgin) is given in exchange for another; and it is not unusual to borrow a girl for this purpose from a friend or relation, the borrower binding himself to replace her or pay her jujur when required, A man who has a son and daughter gives the latter in exchange for a wife to the former. The person who receives her disposes of her as his own child or marries her himself. A brother will give his sister in exchange for a wife, or, in default of such, procure a cousin for the purpose. If the girl given in exchange be under age a certain allowance per annum is made till she becomes marriageable. Beguppok is a mode of marriage differing a little from the common jujur, and probably only taking place where a parent wants to get off a child labouring under some infirmity or defect. A certain sum is in this case fixed below the usual custom, which, when paid, is in full for her value, without any appendages. In other cases likewise the jujur is sometimes lessened and sometimes increased by mutual agreement; but on trials it is always estimated at a hundred and twenty dollars. If a wife dies soon after marriage, or at any time without children, the full jujur cannot be claimed; it is reduced to eighty dollars; but should more than that have been laid down in the interim there is no refunding. The jujur of a widow, which is generally eighty dollars, without appendages, is again reduced upon a third marriage, allowances being made for dilapidation. A widow being with child cannot marry again till she is delivered, without incurring a penalty. In divorces it is the same. If there be no appearance of pregnancy she must yet abstain from making another choice during the period of three months and ten days.
Instead of paying the jujur, a barter system called libei sometimes happens, where one girl (virgin) is given in exchange for another; it's also common to borrow a girl from a friend or relative for this purpose, with the borrower agreeing to replace her or pay her jujur when asked. A man with both a son and a daughter will give his daughter in exchange for a wife for his son. The person who receives her will treat her as his own child or marry her himself. A brother might give his sister in exchange for a wife or, if that’s not possible, find a cousin for the same reason. If the girl being exchanged is underage, a certain amount is set aside each year until she is old enough to marry. Beguppok is a marriage method that differs slightly from the common jujur, usually occurring when a parent wants to marry off a child with some kind of disability or defect. In this case, a lower amount than usual is agreed upon, and once paid, it’s considered the full value, without any additional costs. In other instances, the jujur can sometimes be reduced or increased by mutual agreement, but it's typically assessed at a hundred and twenty dollars. If a wife dies shortly after marriage, or at any time without having children, the full jujur cannot be claimed; it's lowered to eighty dollars, but if more than that was paid in the meantime, there’s no refund. The jujur for a widow, which is usually eighty dollars without additional costs, is again decreased for a third marriage, with deductions for wear and tear. A widow who is pregnant cannot marry again until after she gives birth, or she will face a penalty. The same applies for divorces. If there’s no sign of pregnancy, she must still wait three months and ten days before making another choice.
When the relations and friends of the man go in form to the parents of the girl to settle the terms of the marriage they pay at that time the adat besasala, or earnest, of six dollars generally; and these kill a goat or a few fowls to entertain them. It is usually some space of time (except in cases of telari gadis or elopement) after the payment of the besasala, before the wedding takes place; but, when the father has received that, he cannot give his daughter to any other person without incurring a fine, which the young lady sometimes renders him liable to; for whilst the old folk are planning a match by patutan, or regular agreement between families, it frequently happens that miss disappears with a more favoured swain and secures a match of her own choice. The practice styled telari gadis is not the least common way of determining a marriage, and from a spirit of indulgence and humanity, which few codes can boast, has the sanction of the laws. The father has only the power left of dictating the mode of marriage, but cannot take his daughter away if the lover is willing to comply with the custom in such cases. The girl must be lodged, unviolated, in the house of some respectable family till the relations are advised of the enlevement and settle the terms. If however upon immediate pursuit they are overtaken on the road, she may be forced back, but not after she has taken sanctuary.
When the man's relatives and friends go to the girl's parents to discuss the marriage terms, they usually pay an earnest fee of six dollars, known as adat besasala, and often kill a goat or some chickens to celebrate. There is typically a period of time (except in cases of telari gadis or elopement) after paying the besasala before the wedding happens; however, once the father receives this payment, he cannot give his daughter to anyone else without facing a fine, which the young woman sometimes makes him liable for. While the older generations are arranging a match through patutan, or official family agreements, it often happens that the girl runs off with a suitor she prefers and secures a marriage of her choosing. The practice called telari gadis is quite common for determining a marriage and, showing a spirit of leniency and compassion that few laws possess, is permitted by the law. The father can only dictate the way the marriage happens but cannot take his daughter away if the suitor agrees to follow the customs in these situations. The girl must be kept, unharmed, at the house of some respectable family until her relatives are informed of the elopement and the terms are agreed upon. However, if they are pursued immediately and caught on the way, she may be brought back, but not after she has sought refuge.
By the Mosaic law, if a man left a widow without children his brother was to marry her. Among the Sumatrans, with or without children, the brother, or nearest male relation of the deceased, unmarried (the father excepted), takes the widow. This is practised both by Malays and country people. The brother, in taking the widow to himself, becomes answerable for what may remain due of her purchase money, and in every respect represents the deceased. This is phrased ganti tikar bantal'nia--supplying his place on his mat and pillow.
According to the Mosaic law, if a man died and left a widow without children, his brother was required to marry her. Among the Sumatrans, whether or not there are children, the brother or the closest male relative of the deceased, who is unmarried (except for the father), takes the widow. This practice is followed by both Malays and local people. When the brother takes the widow, he becomes responsible for any remaining debt from her purchase price and fully represents the deceased. This is referred to as ganti tikar bantal'nia—taking his place on the mat and pillow.
CHASTITY OF THE WOMEN.
WOMEN'S CHASTITY.
Chastity prevails more perhaps among these than any other people. It is so materially the interest of the parents to preserve the virtue of their daughters unsullied, as they constitute the chief of their substance, that they are particularly watchful in this respect. But as marriages in general do not take place so early as the forwardness of nature in that climate would admit, it will sometimes happen, notwithstanding their precaution, that a young woman, not choosing to wait her father's pleasure, tastes the fruit by stealth. When this is discovered he can oblige the man to marry her, and pay the jujur; or, if he chooses to keep his daughter, the seducer must make good the difference he has occasioned in her value, and also pay the fine, called tippong bumi, for removing the stain from the earth. Prostitution for hire is I think unknown in the country, and confined to the more polite bazaars, where there is usually a concourse of sailors and others who have no honest settlement of their own, and whom, therefore, it is impossible to restrain from promiscuous concubinage. At these places vice generally reigns in a degree proportioned to the number and variety of people of different nations who inhabit them or occasionally resort thither. From the scenes which these sea-ports present travellers too commonly form their judgment, and imprudently take upon them to draw, for the information of the world, a picture of the manners of a people.
Chastity is more common among these people than among others. It's in the best interest of parents to keep their daughters' virtue intact since they are their main source of wealth, so they are especially vigilant about this. However, since marriages generally don’t happen as early as nature would allow in that climate, sometimes a young woman, not wanting to wait for her father’s approval, secretly indulges. When this is discovered, the father can force the man to marry her and pay a fine, or if he wants to keep his daughter, the seducer has to compensate for the loss of her value and also pay a fine called tippong bumi to cleanse the stain from the earth. Prostitution for hire seems to be unheard of in the country and is mostly found in the more upscale markets, where there’s usually a gathering of sailors and others without stable homes, making it difficult to prevent casual relationships. In these areas, vice tends to flourish according to the number and diversity of people from different nations who live there or visit. Travelers often form their opinions from the scenes they see in these ports and thoughtlessly portray the behaviors of a whole people for the world's awareness.
The different species of horrid and disgustful crimes, which are emphatically denominated, against nature, are unknown on Sumatra; nor have any of their languages terms to express such ideas.
The various types of horrible and disgusting crimes that are specifically called crimes against nature don’t exist in Sumatra; nor do any of their languages have words to describe such concepts.
INCEST.
INCEST.
Incest, or the intermarriage of persons within a certain degree of consanguinity, which is, perhaps (at least after the first degree), rather an offence against the institutions of human prudence than a natural crime, is forbidden by their customs and punishable by fine: yet the guilt is often expiated by a ceremony, and the marriages in many instances confirmed.
Incest, or the marriage of people related within a certain degree of blood relationship, which is, perhaps (at least after the first degree), more of an offense against societal norms than a natural crime, is prohibited by their customs and punishable by a fine: however, the wrongdoing is often made right through a ceremony, and in many cases, the marriages are approved.
ADULTERY.
Infidelity.
Adultery is punishable by fine; but the crime is rare, and suits on the subject still less frequent. The husband, it is probable, either conceals his shame or revenges it with his own hand.
Adultery comes with a fine; however, it's a rare crime, and lawsuits about it are even less common. The husband likely either hides his embarrassment or takes matters into his own hands for revenge.
DIVORCES.
Divorces.
If a man would divorce a wife he has married by jujur he may claim back what he has paid in part, less twenty-five dollars, the adat charo, for the damage he has done her; but if he has paid the jujur in full the relations may choose whether they will receive her or not; if not he may sell her. If a man has paid part of a jujur but cannot raise the remainder, though repeatedly dunned for it, the parents of the girl may obtain a divorce; but if it is not with the husband's concurrence they lose the advantage of the charo, and must refund all they have received. A woman married by jujur must bring with her effects to the amount of ten dollars, or, if not, it is deducted from the sum; if she brings more the husband is accountable for the difference. The original ceremony of divorce consists in cutting a rattancane in two, in presence of the parties, their relations, and the chiefs of the country.
If a man wants to divorce his wife whom he married through jujur, he can get back what he has partially paid, minus twenty-five dollars, known as the adat charo, for the harm he has caused her. However, if he has paid the full jujur amount, the family can decide whether to keep her or not; if they choose not to, he can sell her. If a man has only partially paid the jujur and can’t come up with the rest, despite being asked repeatedly, the girl's parents can get a divorce. But if the husband doesn't agree, they lose the benefit of the charo and have to return everything they received. A woman who marries by jujur must bring belongings worth ten dollars; if she doesn’t, that amount will be deducted from the jujur sum. If she brings more, the husband has to compensate for the difference. The traditional divorce ceremony involves cutting a rattan cane in two, in front of the involved parties, their families, and the community leaders.
SECOND MODE OF MARRIAGE.
SECOND MARRIAGE OPTION.
In the mode of marriage by ambel anak the father of a virgin makes choice of some young man for her husband, generally from an inferior family, which renounces all further right to, or interest in, him, and he is taken into the house of his father-in-law, who kills a buffalo on the occasion, and receives twenty dollars from the son's relations. After this the buruk baik'nia (the good and bad of him) is vested in the wife's family. If he murders or robs they pay the bangun, or the fine. If he is murdered they receive the bangun. They are liable to any debts he may contract after marriage; those prior to it remaining with his parents. He lives in the family in a state between that of a son and a debtor. He partakes as a son of what the house affords, but has no property in himself. His rice plantation, the produce of his pepper-garden, with everything that he can gain or earn, belong to the family. He is liable to be divorced at their pleasure, and, though he has children, must leave all, and return naked as he came. The family sometimes indulge him with leave to remove to a house of his own, and take his wife with him; but he, his children, and effects are still their property. If he has not daughters by the marriage he may redeem himself and wife by paying her jujur; but if there are daughters before they become emancipated the difficulty is enhanced, because the family are likewise entitled to their value. It is common however when they are upon good terms to release him on the payment of one jujur, or at most with the addition of an adat of fifty dollars. With this addition he may insist upon a release whilst his daughters are not marriageable. If the family have paid any debts for him he must also make them good. Should he contract more than they approve of, and they fear his adding to them, they procure a divorce, and send him back to his parents; but must pay his debts to that time. If he is a notorious spendthrift they outlaw him by means of a writ presented to the magistrate. These are inscribed on slips of bamboo with a sharp instrument, and I have several of them in my possession. They must banish him from home, and if they receive him again, or assist him with the smallest sum, they are liable to all his debts. On the prodigal son's return, and assurance of amendment, this writ may be redeemed on payment of five dollars to the proattins, and satisfying the creditors. This kind of marriage is productive of much confusion, for till the time it takes place the young man belongs to one dusun and family, and afterwards to another, and as they have no records to refer to there is great uncertainty in settling the time when debts were contracted, and the like. Sometimes the redemption of the family and their return to the former dusun take place in the second or third generation; and in many cases it is doubtful whether they ever took place or not; the two parties contradicting each other, and perhaps no evidence to refer to. Hence arise various and intricate bechars.
In the marriage practice of ambel anak, the father of a virgin selects a young man to be her husband, usually from a less wealthy family. This family gives up any further claim to him, and he moves into his father-in-law's house, where a buffalo is killed to celebrate, and the son's family pays twenty dollars. After this, the responsibility for his actions (the buruk baik'nia) shifts to the wife's family. If he commits murder or theft, they pay the fine (bangun). If he is killed, they receive the bangun. They are also responsible for any debts he takes on after the marriage; those before remain with his parents. He lives in a position that’s a mix between being a son and a debtor. He shares in what the household provides, but doesn’t have any property of his own. His rice fields, pepper garden, and anything he earns belong to the family. He can be divorced at any time and, even if he has kids, must leave everything behind and return empty-handed. Sometimes, the family lets him move into his own house with his wife; however, he and his children still belong to them. If he doesn’t have daughters from the marriage, he can buy his and his wife’s freedom by paying her jujur. But if he has daughters before they are grown, it complicates things because the family is also entitled to their worth. However, if they are on good terms, they might allow him to go free with the payment of one jujur, possibly adding a custom fee of fifty dollars. With this fee, he can demand his release while his daughters are still not eligible for marriage. If the family has paid any debts for him, he must repay those as well. If he incurs more debt than they approve of and they worry he’ll continue adding to it, they get a divorce and send him back to his parents, but they must pay off his debts up to that point. If he is known to be a reckless spender, they can outlaw him by presenting a writ to the magistrate. These are written on bamboo slips with a sharp tool, and I have several of them. They must exile him from home, and if they accept him back or help him financially, they become liable for all his debts. If the prodigal son returns and promises to change, this writ can be lifted with a payment of five dollars to the proattins and clearing his debts. This type of marriage can create a lot of confusion because until the marriage happens, the young man belongs to one dusun and family, and afterward to another. Since they don’t keep any records, it’s hard to determine when debts were incurred, among other things. Sometimes, the family’s redemption and their return to the original dusun occur in the second or third generation; in many cases, it's unclear if they ever happen, with both sides contradicting each other and likely no proof to refer to. This leads to various complicated issues.
THIRD, OR MALAYAN MODE OF MARRIAGE.
THIRD, OR MALAYAN MODE OF MARRIAGE.
Besides the modes of marriage above described, a third form, called semando, has been adopted from the Malays, and thence termed semando malayo or mardika (free). This marriage is a regular treaty between the parties, on the footing of equality. The adat paid to the girl's friends has usually been twelve dollars. The agreement stipulates that all effects, gains, or earnings are to be equally the property of both, and in case of divorce by mutual consent the stock, debts, and credits are to be equally divided. If the man only insists on the divorce he gives the woman her half of the effects, and loses the twelve dollars he has paid. If the woman only claims the divorce she forfeits her right to the proportion of the effects, but is entitled to keep her tikar, bantal, and dandan (paraphernalia), and her relations are liable to pay back the twelve dollars; but it is seldom demanded. This mode, doubtless the most conformable to our ideas of conjugal right and felicity, is that which the chiefs of the Rejang country have formally consented to establish throughout their jurisdiction, and to their orders the influence of the Malayan priests will contribute to give efficacy.
Besides the marriage types mentioned earlier, there's a third form called semando, which comes from the Malays, hence referred to as semando malayo or mardika (free). This type of marriage is a formal agreement between both parties based on equality. The customary payment made to the girl's family is usually twelve dollars. The agreement states that all possessions, income, or earnings belong equally to both partners, and if they decide to divorce by mutual consent, their assets, debts, and credits will be split equally. If the man insists on the divorce, he must give the woman her half of the possessions and forfeits the twelve dollars he paid. If the woman seeks a divorce, she gives up her share of the possessions but can keep her tikar, bantal, and dandan (personal items), and her family is responsible for returning the twelve dollars, although this is rarely enforced. This method, undoubtedly the most aligned with our ideas of marital rights and happiness, is one that the leaders of the Rejang country have officially agreed to implement throughout their region, with the influence of Malayan priests helping to enforce it.
In the ambel anak marriage, according to the institutions of Passummah, when the father resolves to dismiss the husband of his daughter and send him back to his dusun the sum for which he can redeem his wife and family is a hundred dollars: and if he can raise that, and the woman is willing to go with him, the father cannot refuse them; and now the affair is changed into a kulo marriage; the man returns to his former tungguan (settlement or family) and becomes of more consequence in society. These people are no strangers to that sentiment which we call a regard to family. There are some families among them more esteemed than others, though not graced with any title or employment in the state. The origin of this distinction it is difficult to trace; but it may have arisen from a succession of men of abilities, or from the reputation for wisdom or valour of some ancestor. Everyone has a regard to his race; and the probability of its being extinct is esteemed a great unhappiness. This is what they call tungguan putus, and the expression is used by the lowest member of the community. To have a wife, a family, collateral relations, and a settled place of residence is to have a tungguan, and this they are anxious to support and perpetuate. It is with this view that, when a single female only remains of a family, they marry her by ambel anak; in which mode the husband's consequence is lost in the wife's, and in her children the tungguan of her father is continued. They find her a husband that will menegga tungguan, or, as it is expressed amongst the Rejangs menegga rumah, set up the house again.
In the ambel anak marriage, according to the customs of Passummah, when the father decides to dismiss his daughter’s husband and send him back to his village, the amount he must pay to redeem his wife and family is a hundred dollars. If he can come up with that sum, and the woman agrees to go with him, the father cannot refuse them. The situation then shifts to a kulo marriage; the man goes back to his previous settlement or family and gains more status in society. These people understand the importance of family ties. Some families are held in higher regard than others, even without any official titles or government roles. It’s hard to pinpoint the origin of this distinction; it may stem from a lineage of capable individuals or from the reputation for wisdom or bravery of a particular ancestor. Everyone values their heritage, and the thought of it dying out is seen as a major misfortune. This is referred to as tungguan putus, and the term is used by even the lowest members of the community. Having a wife, children, extended family, and a permanent home means having a tungguan, and they strive to maintain and pass it on. For this reason, when only a single female member remains in a family, they marry her off in the ambel anak way, where the husband’s status is overshadowed by the wife’s, and her children continue her father's legacy. They find her a husband who will menegga tungguan, or as the Rejangs say, menegga rumah, to restore the household.
The semando marriage is little known in Passummah. I recollect that a pangeran of Manna, having lost a son by a marriage of this kind with a Malay woman, she refused upon the father's death to let the boy succeed to his dignities, and at the same time become answerable for his debts, and carried him with her from the country; which was productive of much confusion. The regulations there in respect to incontinence have much severity, and fall particularly hard on the girl's father, who not only has his daughter spoiled but must also pay largely for her frailty. To the northward the offence is not punished with so much rigour, yet the instances are there said to be rarer, and marriage is more usually the consequence. In other respects the customs of Passummah and Rejang are the same in these matters.
The semando marriage is not well known in Passummah. I remember that a pangeran from Manna, after losing a son to this kind of marriage with a Malay woman, refused to let her take the boy’s titles after his death and also be responsible for his debts. She took him away from the country, which caused a lot of confusion. The rules there about infidelity are very strict and particularly harsh for the girl's father, who not only sees his daughter lose her reputation but also has to pay a significant price for her wrongdoing. Further north, the offense isn't punished as severely, although it's said to happen less frequently, and marriage is usually the outcome. In other respects, the customs of Passummah and Rejang are the same when it comes to these issues.
RITES OF MARRIAGE.
Wedding Traditions.
The rites of marriage, nikah (from the Arabian), consist simply in joining the hands of the parties and pronouncing them man and wife, without much ceremony excepting the entertainment which is given on the occasion. This is performed by one of the fathers or the chief of the dusun, according to the original customs of the country; but where Mahometanism has found its way, a priest or imam executes the business.
The marriage ceremony, or nikah (from Arabic), basically involves putting the hands of the couple together and declaring them husband and wife, with little more ceremony than the celebration that follows. This is typically done by one of the fathers or the leader of the village, following the traditional customs of the area; however, in places where Islam is practiced, a priest or imam carries out the ceremony.
COURTSHIP.
Dating.
But little apparent courtship precedes their marriages. Their manners do not admit of it, the bujang and gadis (youth of each sex) being carefully kept asunder, and the latter seldom trusted from under the wing of their mothers. Besides, courtship with us includes the idea of humble entreaty on the man's side, and favour and condescension on the part of the woman, who bestows person and property for love. The Sumatran on the contrary, when he fixes his choice and pays all that he is worth for the object of it, may naturally consider the obligation on his side. But still they are not without gallantry. They preserve a degree of delicacy and respect towards the sex, which might justify their retorting on many of the polished nations of antiquity the epithet of barbarians. The opportunities which the young people have of seeing and conversing with each other are at the bimbangs, or public festivals, held at the balei, or town hall of the dusun. On these occasions the unmarried people meet together and dance and sing in company. It may be supposed that the young ladies cannot be long without their particular admirers. The men, when determined in their regards, generally employ an old woman as their agent, by whom they make known their sentiments and send presents to the female of their choice. The parents then interfere and, the preliminaries being settled, a bimbang takes place.
But there's not much courtship before their marriages. Their customs don’t allow for it, with young men and women kept apart, and the latter rarely trusted away from their mothers. Plus, courtship for us involves the man humbly pleading and the woman granting favor, as she gives her affection and support. In contrast, the Sumatran man, once he's made his choice and invested his resources into it, naturally feels a sense of obligation. However, they still show a level of gallantry. They maintain a sense of delicacy and respect towards women, which could lead one to label many refined nations of the past as barbaric. The young people have the chance to see and talk to each other at bimbangs, or public festivals, held at the balei, or town hall of the dusun. During these events, single individuals come together to dance and sing as a group. It's safe to say that the young women don’t stay without admirers for long. When a man is serious about his feelings, he usually hires an older woman to communicate his intentions and send gifts to the woman he likes. The parents then step in, and once the initial details are settled, a bimbang takes place.
MARRIAGE FESTIVALS.
WEDDING FESTIVALS.
At these festivals a goat, a buffalo, or several, according to the rank of the parties, are killed, to entertain not only the relations and invited guests but all the inhabitants of the neighbouring country who choose to repair to them. The greater the concourse the more is the credit of the host, who is generally on these occasions the father of the girl; but the different branches of the family, and frequently all the people of the dusun, contribute a quota of rice.
At these festivals, a goat, a buffalo, or several animals are sacrificed based on the status of the involved parties, to entertain not just the family and invited guests, but everyone from the surrounding areas who decides to come. The larger the crowd, the more respect the host gains, who is usually the girl's father; however, different branches of the family, and often all the villagers, chip in with a share of rice.
ORDER OBSERVED.
ORDER CONFIRMED.
The young women proceed in a body to the upper end of the balei where there is a part divided off for them by a curtain. The floor is spread with their best mats, and the sides and ceiling of that extremity of the building are hung with pieces of chintz, palampores, and the like. They do not always make their appearance before dinner; that time, with part of the afternoon, previous to a second or third meal, being appropriated to cock-fighting and other diversions peculiar to the men. Whilst the young are thus employed the old men consult together upon any affair that may be at the time in agitation; such as repairing a public building or making reprisals upon the cattle of a neighbouring people. The bimbangs are often given on occasions of business only, and, as they are apt to be productive of cabals, the Europeans require that they shall not be held without their knowledge and approbation. To give authority to their contracts and other deeds, whether of a public or private nature, they always make one of these feasts. Writings, say they, may be altered or counterfeited, but the memory of what is transacted and concluded in the presence of a thousand witnesses must remain sacred. Sometimes, in token of the final determination of an affair, they cut a notch in a post, before the chiefs, which they call taka kayu.
The young women move as a group to the upper end of the hall where there’s a section set aside for them by a curtain. The floor is covered with their best mats, and the walls and ceiling of that part of the building are decorated with pieces of chintz, palampores, and similar fabrics. They don’t always show up before dinner; that time, along with part of the afternoon before a second or third meal, is often reserved for cock-fighting and other activities that are mainly for the men. While the young people are busy with those things, the older men gather to discuss any matters that are currently pressing, like repairing a public building or taking action against the livestock of neighboring people. The bimbangs are often held only for business matters, and since they can lead to conspiracies, the Europeans insist that they shouldn’t take place without their knowledge and approval. To legitimize their contracts and other documents, whether public or private, they always hold one of these feasts. They say that writings can be changed or forged, but the memory of what is discussed and agreed upon in front of a thousand witnesses must remain sacred. Sometimes, as a sign of the final decision on a matter, they cut a notch in a post before the chiefs, which they call taka kayu.
AMUSEMENT OF DANCING.
Dancing fun.
In the evening their softer amusements take place, of which the dances are the principal. These are performed either singly or by two women, two men, or with both mixed. Their motions and attitudes are usually slow, and too much forced to be graceful; approaching often to the lascivious, and not unfrequently the ludicrous. This is I believe the general opinion formed of them by Europeans, but it may be the effect of prejudice. Certain I am that our usual dances are in their judgment to the full as ridiculous. The minuets they compare to the fighting of two game-cocks, alternately approaching and receding. Our country dances they esteem too violent and confused, without showing grace or agility. The stage dances I have not a doubt would please them. Part of the female dress, called the salendang, which is usually of silk with a gold head, is tied round the waist, and the ends of this they at times extend behind them with their hands. They bend forward as they dance, and usually carry a fan, which they close and strike smartly against their elbows at particular cadences. They keep time well, and the partners preserve a consistency with each other though the figure and steps are ad libitum. A brisker movement is sometimes adopted which proves more conformable to the taste of the English spectators.
In the evening, their lighter entertainment happens, with dancing being the main event. These dances are performed either solo or by pairs of two women, two men, or a mix of both. Their movements and postures are generally slow and somewhat forced, making them less graceful; they often come off as slightly lewd and sometimes even ridiculous. I believe this is the common view among Europeans, but it could be influenced by bias. I'm certain that they find our usual dances just as silly. They compare minuets to two fighting roosters, moving closer and then pulling away. They see our country dances as too frantic and chaotic, lacking grace or agility. I have no doubt that they would enjoy stage dances. Part of the women’s attire, called the salendang, which is usually silk with a gold trim, is tied around the waist, and they sometimes extend the ends behind them with their hands as they dance. They lean forward while dancing and typically carry a fan, which they close and sharply tap against their elbows at specific moments. They keep good time, and the partners maintain harmony with each other, even though the movements and steps are flexible. Occasionally, a quicker tempo is used, which tends to appeal more to English viewers.
SINGING.
Singing.
Dancing is not the only amusement on these occasions. A gadis sometimes rises and, leaning her face on her arm, supporting herself against a pillar, or the shoulder of one of her companions, with her back to the audience, begins a tender song. She is soon taken up and answered by one of the bujangs in company, whose greatest pretensions to gallantry and fashion are founded on an adroitness at this polite accomplishment. The uniform subject on such occasions is love, and, as the words are extempore, there are numberless degrees of merit in the composition, which is sometimes surprisingly well turned, quaint, and even witty. Professed story-tellers are sometimes introduced, who are raised on a little stage and during several hours arrest the attention of their audience by the relation of wonderful and interesting adventures. There are also characters of humour amongst them who, by buffoonery, mimicry, punning, repartee, and satire (rather of the sardonic kind) are able to keep the company in laughter at intervals during the course of a night's entertainment. The assembly seldom breaks up before daylight, and these bimbangs are often continued for several days and nights together till their stock of provisions is exhausted. The young men frequent them in order to look out for wives, and the lasses of course set themselves off to the best advantage.
Dancing isn't the only fun at these events. A young woman sometimes stands up and, resting her face on her arm and leaning against a pillar or one of her friends, with her back to the audience, starts to sing a sweet song. Soon, one of the young men joins in, trying to show off his charm and style with this graceful act. The common theme is love, and since the lyrics are improvised, there are countless variations in skill, with some phrases being surprisingly clever, quirky, and even witty. Professional storytellers sometimes take the stage, captivating the audience for hours with tales of fascinating and amazing adventures. There are also funny characters who, through humor, mimicry, wordplay, quick comebacks, and sardonic satire, keep everyone laughing throughout the night. The gathering usually doesn’t end until dawn, and these events can last for several days and nights until they run out of food. Young men attend to find potential wives, and the women, of course, dress to impress.
DRESSES.
Dresses.
They wear their best silken dresses, of their own weaving; as many ornaments of filigree as they possess; silver rings upon their arms and legs; and earrings of a particular construction. Their hair is variously adorned with flowers and perfumed with oil of benzoin. Civet is also in repute, but more used by the men.
They wear their finest silk dresses that they've made themselves, adorned with all the filigree jewelry they have, along with silver rings on their arms and legs, and uniquely crafted earrings. Their hair is decorated with different flowers and scented with benzoin oil. Civet is also popular, but it's more commonly used by men.
COSMETIC USED, AND MODE OF PREPARING IT.
COSMETIC USED, AND MODE OF PREPARING IT.
To render their skin fine, smooth, and soft they make use of a white cosmetic called pupur. The mode of preparing it is as follows. The basis is fine rice, which is a long time steeped in water and let to ferment, during which process the water becomes of a deep red colour and highly putrid, when it is drained off, and fresh added successively until the water remains clear, and the rice subsides in the form of a fine white paste. It is then exposed to the sun to dry, and, being reduced to a powder, they mix with it ginger, the leaves of a plant called by them dilam, and by Europeans patch-leaf (Melissa lotoria, R.), which gives to it a peculiar smell, and also, as is supposed, a cooling quality. They add likewise the flowers of the jagong (maize); kayu chendana (sandalwood); and the seeds of a plant called there kapas antu (fairy-cotton), which is the Hibiscus abelmoschus, or musk seed. All these ingredients, after being moistened and well mixed together, are made up into little balls, and when they would apply the cosmetic these are diluted with a drop of water, rubbed between the hands, and then on the face, neck, and shoulders. They have an apprehension, probably well founded, that a too abundant or frequent application will, by stopping the pores of the skin, bring on a fever. It is used with good effect to remove that troublesome complaint, so well known to Europeans in India, by the name of the prickly heat; but it is not always safe for strangers thus to check the operations of nature in a warm climate. The Sumatran girls, as well as our English maidens, entertain a favourable opinion of the virtues of morning dew as a beautifier, and believe that by rubbing it to the roots of the hair it will strengthen and thicken it. With this view they take pains to catch it before sunrise in vessels as it falls.
To keep their skin fine, smooth, and soft, they use a white cosmetic called pupur. Here’s how they prepare it: they start with fine rice, which is soaked in water for a long time and allowed to ferment. During this process, the water turns a deep red and becomes quite foul; once drained, fresh water is added repeatedly until it becomes clear, and the rice turns into a fine white paste. Then, it’s left out in the sun to dry, and once it’s been ground into a powder, they mix in ginger, the leaves of a plant they call dilam, and what Europeans know as patch-leaf (Melissa lotoria, R.), which gives it a unique smell and is believed to have a cooling effect. They also add maize flowers, sandalwood (kayu chendana), and the seeds from a plant called kapas antu (fairy-cotton), which is Hibiscus abelmoschus or musk seed. After moistening and mixing all these ingredients thoroughly, they form them into small balls. When they want to use the cosmetic, they take one of these balls, dilute it with a drop of water, rub it between their hands, and then apply it to their face, neck, and shoulders. They are cautious, probably for good reason, that using too much or too often could block the pores and lead to a fever. It’s effective for treating prickly heat, a condition well known to Europeans in India, but it’s not always safe for newcomers to halt nature’s processes in a hot climate. Sumatran girls, just like English maidens, believe in the beauty benefits of morning dew and think that rubbing it onto the roots of their hair helps strengthen and thicken it. To achieve this, they take care to collect the dew in containers before sunrise as it falls.
CONSUMMATION OF MARRIAGES.
Marriage Completion.
If a wedding is the occasion of the bimbang the couple are married, perhaps, the second or third day; but it may be two or three more ere the husband can get possession of his bride; the old matrons making it a rule to prevent him, as long as possible, and the bride herself holding it a point of honour to defend to extremity that jewel which she would yet be disappointed in preserving.*
If a wedding is when the couple gets married, it might happen on the second or third day after the ceremony; however, it could take two or three more days before the husband is allowed to be with his bride. The older women make it a point to keep him away for as long as they can, and the bride views it as a matter of pride to protect that treasure, even though she might end up feeling let down in her efforts to keep it safe.
(*Footnote. It is recorded that the jealousy between the English and Dutch at Bantam arose from a preference shown to the former by the king at a festival which he gave upon obtaining a victory of this nature, which his bride had long disputed with him. For a description of a Malayan wedding, with an excellent plate representing the conclusion of the ceremony and the sleeping apartment, I beg to refer the reader to Captain Forrest's Voyage to New Guinea page 286 quarto edition. The bed-place is described at page 232 and the processional car (perarakan) at page 241. His whole account of the domestic manners of the people of Mindanao, at the court of which he lived on terms of familiarity, will be found highly amusing.)
(*Footnote. It is noted that the rivalry between the English and the Dutch in Bantam stemmed from the king's favoritism towards the English during a festival he hosted after achieving a notable victory, which his bride had contested with him for a long time. For a description of a Malayan wedding, along with a remarkable illustration depicting the end of the ceremony and the bedroom, I recommend the reader check Captain Forrest's Voyage to New Guinea, page 286 in the quarto edition. The sleeping area is described on page 232, and the processional car (perarakan) is discussed on page 241. His entire account of the domestic customs of the people of Mindanao, where he lived in close quarters, is highly entertaining.)
They sit up in state at night on raised cushions, in their best clothes and trinkets. They are sometimes loaded on the occasion with all the finery of their relations, or even the whole dusun, and carefully eased of it when the ceremony is over. But this is not the case with the children of persons of rank. I remember being present at the marriage of a young woman, whose beauty would not have disgraced any country, with a son of Raddin, prince of Madura, to whom the English gave protection from the power of the Dutch after his father had fallen a sacrifice.* She was decked in unborrowed plumes. Her dress was eminently calculated to do justice to a fine person; her hair, in which consists their chief pride, was disposed with extreme grace; and an uncommon elegance and taste were displayed in the workmanship and adjustment of her ornaments. It must be confessed however that this taste is by no means general, especially amongst the country people. Simplicity, so essential to the idea, is the characteristic of a rude and quite uncivilized people, and is again adopted by men in their highest state of refinement. The Sumatrans stand removed from both these extremes. Rich and splendid articles of dress and furniture, though not often procured, are the objects of their vanity and ambition.
They sit up at night on raised cushions, dressed in their best clothes and jewelry. Sometimes they’re loaded up for the occasion with all the finery from their relatives, or even the whole village, and are carefully relieved of it once the ceremony is over. But this isn’t true for the children of high-ranking individuals. I remember being at the wedding of a young woman, whose beauty would have been valued anywhere, to a son of Raddin, the prince of Madura, whom the English sheltered from the Dutch after his father was killed.* She wore her own feathers. Her outfit was designed to highlight her lovely figure; her hair, which is their main pride, was styled with great elegance; and her jewelry was crafted and arranged with exceptional taste. However, it must be noted that this level of taste is not common, especially among rural folks. Simplicity, which is key to this idea, characterizes both a rude and uncivilized people, and is also adopted by those in the highest level of sophistication. The Sumatran people are positioned between these two extremes. While rich and extravagant clothing and furnishings, though not frequently obtained, are objects of their vanity and ambition.
(*Footnote. The circumstances of this disgraceful affair are preserved in a book entitled A Voyage to the East Indies in 1747 and 1748. This Raddin Tamanggung, a most intelligent and respectable man, died at Bencoolen in the year 1790. His sons possess the good qualities of their father, and are employed in the Company's service.)
(*Footnote. The details of this shameful incident are recorded in a book called A Voyage to the East Indies published in 1747 and 1748. Raddin Tamanggung, a very knowledgeable and respected individual, passed away in Bencoolen in 1790. His sons have inherited their father's admirable qualities and are working in the Company's service.)
The bimbangs are conducted with great decorum and regularity. The old women are very attentive to the conduct of the girls, and the male relations are highly jealous of any insults that may be shown them. A lad at one of these entertainments asked another his opinion of a gadis who was then dancing. "If she was plated with gold," replied he, "I would not take her for my concubine, much less for my wife." A brother of the girl happened to be within hearing, and called him to account for the reflection thrown on his sister. Krises were drawn but the bystanders prevented mischief. The brother appeared the next day to take the law of the defamer, but the gentleman, being of the risau description, had absconded, and was not to be found.
The bimbangs are held with great decorum and regularity. The older women pay close attention to how the girls behave, and the male relatives are very protective of them against any insults. At one of these gatherings, a guy asked another for his thoughts on a girl who was dancing. "Even if she were covered in gold," he replied, "I wouldn’t take her as my mistress, let alone my wife." A brother of the girl overheard this and confronted him about his remark. Knives were drawn, but the people around stopped any trouble from happening. The next day, the brother showed up to deal with the guy who insulted his sister, but the man, being of a cowardly nature, had skipped town and couldn't be found.
NUMBER OF WIVES.
NUMBER OF SPOUSES.
The customs of the Sumatrans permit their having as many wives by jujur as they can compass the purchase of or afford to maintain; but it is extremely rare that an instance occurs of their having more than one, and that only among a few of the chiefs. This continence they in some measure owe to their poverty. The dictates of frugality are more powerful with them than the irregular calls of appetite, and make them decline an indulgence that their law does not restrain them from. In talking of polygamy they allow it to be the privilege of the rich, but regard it as a refinement which the poor Rejangs cannot pretend to. Some young risaus have been known to take wives in different places, but the father of the first, as soon as he hears of the second marriage, procures a divorce. A man married by semando cannot take a second wife without repudiating the first for this obvious reason that two or more persons could not be equally entitled to the half of his effects.
The customs of the Sumatrans allow them to have as many wives as they can afford to buy or support; however, it is extremely rare for someone to have more than one, and that only happens among a few chiefs. This restraint is partly due to their poverty. They are more influenced by the need to save money than by their desires, leading them to forgo a privilege that their laws don’t actually prohibit. When discussing polygamy, they see it as something only the wealthy can indulge in, while the poor Rejangs can't even think about it. Some young risaus have been known to take wives in different places, but the father of the first wife, as soon as he learns of the second marriage, arranges for a divorce. A man married by semando cannot take a second wife without divorcing the first for the obvious reason that two or more people could not equally claim half of his belongings.
QUESTION OF POLYGAMY.
POLYGAMY QUESTIONS.
Montesquieu infers that the law which permits polygamy is physically conformable to the climate of Asia. The season of female beauty precedes that of their reason, and from its prematurity soon decays. The empire of their charms is short. It is therefore natural, the president observes, that a man should leave one wife to take another: that he should seek a renovation of those charms which had withered in his possession. But are these the real circumstances of polygamy? Surely not. It implies the contemporary enjoyment of women in the same predicament; and I should consider it as a vice that has its source in the influence of a warm atmosphere upon the passions of men, which, like the cravings of other disordered appetites, make them miscalculate their wants. It is probably the same influence, on less rigid nerves, that renders their thirst of revenge so much more violent than among northern nations; but we are not therefore to pronounce murder to be physically conformable to a southern climate. Far be it from my intention however to put these passions on a level; I only mean to show that the president's reasoning proves too much. It must further be considered that the genial warmth which expands the desires of the men, and prompts a more unlimited exertion of their faculties, does not inspire their constitutions with proportionate vigour; but on the contrary renders them in this respect inferior to the inhabitants of the temperate zone; whilst it equally influences the desires of the opposite sex without being found to diminish from their capacity of enjoyment. From which I would draw this conclusion, that if nature intended that one woman only should be the companion of one man, in the colder regions of the earth it appears also intended a fortiori that the same law should be observed in the hotter; inferring nature's design, not from the desires, but from the abilities with which she has endowed mankind.
Montesquieu suggests that the law allowing polygamy aligns with the climate of Asia. The time when women are most beautiful comes before their reasoning develops, and that beauty fades quickly. Their charm has a short lifespan. Therefore, it seems natural, he points out, for a man to leave one wife for another: to seek a renewal of the charm that he has seen fade. But are these the true conditions surrounding polygamy? Certainly not. It involves the simultaneous enjoyment of women in the same situation, which I would view as a vice stemming from the influence of a warm climate on men's passions, similar to other uncontrolled cravings that lead them to misjudge their needs. It's likely the same warmth, affecting less restrained individuals, that intensifies their thirst for revenge compared to people from northern regions; however, that doesn't mean we should say that murder is naturally fitting for a southern climate. I don't intend to equate these passions; I just want to show that the president's logic goes too far. It should also be noted that the warm climate that heightens men's desires and encourages broader expressions of their abilities doesn't equip them with corresponding strength; in fact, it makes them less resilient than those in temperate zones; meanwhile, it similarly affects women's desires without diminishing their capacity for enjoyment. From this, I conclude that if nature intended for one woman to be the partner of one man in colder regions, it seems she also intended for that same rule to apply in hotter areas; I infer nature's design not from desires but from the capabilities she has given humanity.
Montesquieu has further suggested that the inequality in the comparative numbers of each sex born in Asia, which is represented to be greatly superior on the female side, may have a relation to the law that allows polygamy. But there is strong reason to deny the reality of this supposed excess. The Japanese account, taken from Kaempfer, which makes them to be in the proportion of twenty-two to eighteen, is very inconclusive, as the numbering of the inhabitants of a great city can furnish no proper test; and the account of births at Bantam, which states the number of girls to be ten to one boy, is not only manifestly absurd, but positively false. I can take upon me to assert that the proportion of the sexes throughout Sumatra does not sensibly differ from that ascertained in Europe; nor could I ever learn from the inhabitants of the many eastern islands whom I have conversed with that they were conscious of any disproportion in this respect.
Montesquieu has also suggested that the unequal number of each sex born in Asia, where females reportedly outnumber males significantly, might be linked to the law permitting polygamy. However, there’s strong evidence to refute this supposed imbalance. The Japanese account, taken from Kaempfer, which claims a ratio of twenty-two females to eighteen males, is very inconclusive since counting the inhabitants of a large city is not a proper measure; and the report of births at Bantam, which states there are ten girls for every boy, is not only clearly ridiculous but outright false. I can confidently assert that the ratio of the sexes throughout Sumatra does not differ significantly from what is observed in Europe; nor have I ever learned from the inhabitants of the numerous eastern islands I have talked to that they are aware of any imbalance in this regard.
CONNEXION BETWEEN POLYGAMY AND PURCHASE OF WIVES.
CONNECTION BETWEEN POLYGAMY AND BUYING WIVES.
But from whatever source we derive polygamy its prevalence seems to be universally attended with the practice of giving a valuable consideration for the woman, instead of receiving a dowry with her. This is a natural consequence. Where each man endeavours to engross several, the demand for the commodity, as a merchant would express it, is increased, and the price of course enhanced. In Europe on the contrary, where the demand is small; whether owing to the paucity of males from continual diminution; their coldness of constitution, which suffers them rather to play with the sentimental than act from the animal passion; their corruption of manners leading them to promiscuous concubinage; or, in fine, the extravagant luxury of the times, which too often renders a family an insupportable burden--whatever may be the cause it becomes necessary, in order to counteract it and produce an additional incitement to the marriage state, that a premium be given with the females. We find in the history of the earliest ages of the world that, where a plurality of women was allowed of, by law or custom, they were obtained by money or service. The form of marriage by semando among the Malays, which admits but of one partner, requires no sum to be paid by the husband to the relations of the wife except a trifle, by way of token, or to defray the expenses of the wedding-feast. The circumstance of the rejangs confining themselves to one, and at the same time giving a price for their wives, would seem an exception to the general rule laid down; but this is an accidental and perhaps temporary restraint, arising, it may be, from the European influence, which tends to make them regular and industrious, but keeps them poor: affords the means of subsistence to all, but the opportunity of acquiring riches to few or none. In their genuine state war and plunder caused a rapid fluctuation of property; the little wealth now among them, derived mostly from the India Company's expenditure, circulates through the country in an equal stream, returning chiefly, like the water exhaled in vapours from the sea, to its original source. The custom of giving jujurs had most probably its foundation in polygamy; and the superstructure subsists, though its basis is partly mouldered away; but, being scarcely tenantable, the inhabitants are inclined to quit, and suffer it to fall to the ground. Moderation in point of women destroying their principle, the jujurs appear to be devoid of policy. Open a new spring of luxury, and polygamy, now confined to a few individuals amongst the chiefs, will spread throughout the people. Beauty will be in high request; each fair one will be sought for by many competitors; and the payment of the jujur be again esteemed a reasonable equivalent for possession. Their acknowledging the custom under the present circumstances to be a prejudicial one, so contrary to the spirit of eastern manners, which is ever marked with a blind veneration for the establishments of antiquity, contributes to strengthen considerably the opinion I have advanced.
But no matter where we trace the origins of polygamy, its prevalence seems universally tied to the practice of giving something valuable for a woman, rather than receiving a dowry with her. This is a natural outcome. When each man tries to attract multiple women, the demand for this "commodity," as a merchant would say, increases, and so does the price. In Europe, on the other hand, where demand is low—whether because of a shortage of males from continuous decline, their reserved nature that leads them to prefer sentimentality over passionate action, their moral corruption that results in casual relationships, or simply the extravagant luxury of the times that makes having a family an unbearable burden—whatever the reason, it’s necessary to counteract this and motivate more marriages by offering a premium with the women. In the history of the earliest ages of the world, when having multiple women was allowed by law or custom, they were typically acquired through money or service. The marriage form known as semando among the Malays, which allows only one partner, requires no significant payment from the husband to the wife's family, except for a small token or to cover the wedding feast expenses. The fact that the Rejangs stick to one wife while also paying for them seems to break the overall rule; however, this could be a temporary change, possibly due to European influence that encourages them to become organized and industrious yet keeps them poor—providing subsistence for all but opportunities for wealth to few or none. In their natural state, war and looting caused rapid changes in property; the little wealth they currently possess, mostly from the India Company's spending, circulates evenly through the country, primarily returning to its original source, much like water evaporating from the sea. The practice of giving jujurs likely originated from polygamy; and while the foundation has somewhat crumbled, the structure still exists. But as it's barely inhabitable, the people are inclined to leave it and let it fall apart. With a moderation in the number of women undermining their core principles, the jujurs seem lacking in strategy. If a new wave of luxury emerges, polygamy, which is currently limited to a few among the chiefs, will spread among the populace. Beauty will become highly sought after; each attractive woman will attract many suitors, and the payment of jujur will once again be seen as a fair trade for possession. Their acknowledgment of this custom as harmful under the current circumstances, which goes against the spirit of Eastern culture marked by a deep reverence for ancient traditions, considerably strengthens the viewpoint I have put forth.
GAMING.
Gaming.
Through every rank of the people there prevails a strong spirit of gaming, which is a vice that readily insinuates itself into minds naturally indisposed to the avocations of industry; and, being in general a sedentary occupation, is more adapted to a warm climate, where bodily exertion is in few instances considered as an amusement.
Throughout all levels of society, there's a strong urge to gamble, which is a habit that easily creeps into minds that are usually not inclined towards hard work; and since it’s mostly a sedentary activity, it’s more suited to warm climates where physical exertion is rarely seen as a form of fun.
DICE. OTHER MODES.
DICE. OTHER MODES.
Beside the common species of gambling with dice, which, from the term dadu applied to it, was evidently introduced by the Portuguese, they have several others; as the judi, a mode of playing with small shells, which are taken up by handfuls, and, being counted out by a given number at a time (generally that of the party engaged), the success is determined by the fractional number remaining, the amount of which is previously guessed at by each of the party.
Beside the popular dice games, which were clearly brought in by the Portuguese since they call it dadu, there are several others; for example, judi, a game played with small shells that are picked up in handfuls. Players count out a set amount at a time (usually depending on how many people are playing), and the outcome is decided by the fractional number of shells left. Each player makes a guess about how many will remain.
CHESS.
Chess.
They have also various games on chequered boards or other delineations, and persons of superior rank are in general versed in the game of chess, which they term main gajah, or the game of the elephant, naming the pieces as follows: king, raja; queen or vizir, mantri; bishop or elephant, gajah; knight or horse, kuda; castle, rook, or chariot, ter; and pawn or foot-soldier, bidak. For check they use the word sah; and for checkmate, mat or mati. Among these names the only one that appears to require observation as being peculiar is that for the castle or rook, which they have borrowed from the Tamul language of the peninsula of India, wherein the word ter (answering to the Sanskrit rat'ha) signifies a chariot (particularly such as are drawn in the processions of certain divinities), and not unaptly transferred to this military game to complete the constituent parts of an army. Gambling, especially with dice, is rigorously forbidden throughout the pepper districts, because it is not only the child, but the parent of idleness, and by the events of play often throws whole villages into confusion. Debts contracted on this account are declared to be void.
They also have various games played on checkered boards or other designs, and people of higher rank are generally skilled at chess, which they call main gajah, or the elephant game, naming the pieces as follows: king, raja; queen or vizir, mantri; bishop or elephant, gajah; knight or horse, kuda; rook or castle, ter; and pawn or foot-soldier, bidak. They use the word sah for check, and for checkmate, mat or mati. Among these names, the only one that seems notable for being unique is the term for the rook, which they have borrowed from the Tamil language of the Indian peninsula, where the word ter (corresponding to the Sanskrit rat'ha) means chariot (especially those drawn in the processions of certain deities), and it fits well in this military game to represent the parts of an army. Gambling, particularly with dice, is strictly prohibited throughout the pepper-growing regions because it leads to idleness, not just for the child but for the parent as well, and the outcomes of play can often disrupt entire villages. Debts incurred from gambling activities are considered void.
COCK-FIGHTING.
Cockfighting.
To cock-fighting they are still more passionately addicted, and it is indulged to them under certain regulations. Where they are perfectly independent their propensity to it is so great that it resembles rather a serious occupation than a sport. You seldom meet a man travelling in the country without a cock under his arm, and sometimes fifty persons in a company when there is a bimbang in one of the neighbouring villages. A country-man coming down, on any occasion, to the bazaar or settlement at the mouth of the river, if he boasts the least degree of spirit must not be unprovided with this token of it. They often game high at their meetings; particularly when a superstitious faith in the invincibility of their bird has been strengthened by past success. A hundred Spanish dollars is no very uncommon risk, and instances have occurred of a father's staking his children or wife, and a son his mother or sisters, on the issue of a battle, when a run of ill luck has stripped them of property and rendered them desperate. Quarrels, attended with dreadful consequences, have often arisen on these occasions.
They are even more passionately into cockfighting, which is allowed under certain rules. When they're completely free, their interest in it is so strong that it feels more like a serious job than just a game. You rarely see a man traveling in the countryside without a chicken tucked under his arm, and there can be as many as fifty people gathered when there's a fight in a nearby village. A farmer going to the market or settlement at the river’s mouth definitely must carry this symbol if he has any sense of pride. They often gamble heavily during these events, especially when they believe strongly in their bird's ability to win based on its past victories. Betting a hundred Spanish dollars isn’t uncommon, and there have been cases where a father has bet his children or wife, or a son his mother or sisters, on the fight's outcome when bad luck has left them broke and desperate. These situations have often led to violent disputes with serious consequences.
RULES OF COCKING.
COCKING RULES.
By their customs there are four umpires appointed to determine on all disputed points in the course of the battles; and from their decision there lies no appeal except the Gothic appeal to the sword. A person who loses and has not the ability to pay is immediately proscribed, departs with disgrace, and is never again suffered to appear at the galangang. This cannot with propriety be translated a cockpit, as it is generally a spot on the level ground, or a stage erected, and covered in. It is inclosed with a railing which keeps off the spectators; none but the handlers and heelers being admitted withinside. A man who has a high opinion of and regard for his cock will not fight him under a certain number of dollars, which he places in order on the floor: his poorer adversary is perhaps unable to deposit above one half: the standers-by make up the sum, and receive their dividends in proportion if successful. A father at his deathbed has been known to desire his son to take the first opportunity of matching a certain cock for a sum equal to his whole property, under a blind conviction of its being betuah, or invulnerable.
According to their customs, four referees are appointed to settle all disputes that arise during battles, and their decisions can't be appealed except through the Gothic way—by fighting. Someone who loses and can't pay is immediately banned, leaves in disgrace, and is never allowed back at the galangang. This shouldn't be translated as a cockpit, since it's usually just a flat area or a covered stage. It is surrounded by a railing that keeps spectators out, allowing only the handlers and heelers inside. A person who really values their cock won't fight it for less than a certain amount of money, which they place on the ground. Their less affluent opponent might not be able to match that amount; the onlookers then contribute to make up the difference and get a share of the winnings if they succeed. There are stories of fathers on their deathbeds urging their sons to match a specific cock for a sum equal to their entire estate, firmly believing it to be betuah, or invulnerable.
MATCHES.
MATCHES.
Cocks of the same colour are never matched but a grey against a pile, a yellow against a red, or the like. This might have been originally designed to prevent disputes or knavish impositions. The Malay breed of cocks is much esteemed by connoisseurs who have had an opportunity of trying them. Great pains is taken in the rearing and feeding; they are frequently handled and accustomed to spar in public, in order to prevent any shyness. Contrary to our laws, the owner is allowed to take up and handle his cock during the battle to clear his eye of a feather or his mouth of blood. When a cock is killed, or runs, the other must have sufficient spirit and vigour left to peck at him three times, on his being held to him for that purpose, or it becomes a drawn battle; and sometimes an experienced cocker will place the head of his vanquished bird in such an uncouth posture as to terrify the other and render him unable to give this proof of victory. The cocks are never trimmed, but matched in full feather. The artificial spur used in Sumatra resembles in shape the blade of a scimitar, and proves a more destructive weapon than the European spur. It has no socket but is tied to the leg, and in the position of it the nicety of the match is regulated. As in horse-racing weight is proportioned to inches, so in cocking a bird of superior weight and size is brought to an equality with his adversary by fixing the steel spur so many scales of the leg above the natural spur, and thus obliging him to fight with a degree of disadvantage. It rarely happens that both cocks survive the combat.
Cocks of the same color are never matched against each other, but rather a grey against a black, a yellow against a red, and so on. This was probably set up to avoid arguments or tricky cheating. The Malay breed of cocks is highly valued by experts who have had the chance to try them. A lot of effort goes into raising and feeding them; they are often handled and trained to spar in public to avoid any shyness. Unlike our laws, owners are allowed to pick up and handle their cock during the fight to remove a feather from its eye or blood from its mouth. If a cock is killed or runs away, the other must still have enough spirit and energy left to peck at it three times when presented to him, or it’s considered a draw; sometimes an experienced cocker will hold the head of the defeated bird in an odd position to scare the other one, making it unable to show this proof of victory. The cocks are never trimmed but are matched in full feather. The artificial spur used in Sumatra is shaped like a scimitar blade and is more lethal than the European spur. It doesn’t have a socket but is tied to the leg, and its position determines the match's fairness. Just like in horse racing, where weight is proportioned to height, in cock fighting, a bird that’s heavier and larger is made equal to its opponent by attaching the steel spur a certain number of scales above the natural spur, forcing it to fight at a disadvantage. It’s not common for both cocks to survive the fight.
In the northern parts of the island, where gold-dust is the common medium of gambling, as well as of trade, so much is accidentally dropped in weighing and delivering that at some cock-pits, where the resort of people is great, the sweepings are said, probably with exaggeration, to be worth upwards of a thousand dollars per annum to the owner of the ground; beside his profit of two fanams (five pence) for each battle.
In the northern parts of the island, where gold dust is the usual currency for both gambling and trade, so much is accidentally spilled during weighing and delivery that at some cockpits, which draw large crowds, the sweepings are said—perhaps exaggeratedly—to be worth over a thousand dollars a year to the owner of the venue, in addition to his profit of two fanams (five pence) for each match.
QUAIL-FIGHTING.
Quail fighting.
In some places they match quails, in the manner of cocks. These fight with great inveteracy, and endeavour to seize each other by the tongue. The Achinese bring also into combat the dial-bird (murei) which resembles a small magpie, but has an agreeable though imperfect note. They sometimes engage one another on the wing, and drop to the ground in the struggle.
In some areas, people match quails in a way similar to roosters. These birds fight fiercely, trying to grab each other by the tongue. The Achinese also bring the dial-bird (murei) into the fight, which looks like a small magpie but has a pleasant, though not perfect, song. They sometimes battle in the air and fall to the ground during the struggle.
FENCING.
Fencing.
They have other diversions of a more innocent nature. Matches of fencing, or a species of tournament, are exhibited on particular days; as at the breaking up of their annual fast, or month of ramadan, called there the puasa. On these occasions they practise strange attitudes, with violent contortions of the body, and often work themselves up to a degree of frenzy, when the old men step in and carry them off. These exercises in some circumstances resemble the idea which the ancients have given us of the pyrrhic or war dance; the combatants moving at a distance from each other in cadence, and making many turns and springs unnecessary in the representation of a real combat. This entertainment is more common among the Malays than in the country. The chief weapons of offence used by these people are the kujur or lance and the kris. This last is properly Malayan, but in all parts of the island they have a weapon equivalent, though in general less curious in its structure, wanting that waving in the blade for which the kris is remarkable, and approaching nearer to daggers or knives.
They have other more innocent pastimes. Fencing matches or a type of tournament are held on specific days, like at the end of their annual fast, known as Ramadan or puasa. During these events, they practice unusual poses, with intense body movements, and often work themselves into a frenzy until the older men step in and take them away. These activities can sometimes resemble what the ancients described as the pyrrhic or war dance, where the fighters move in sync from a distance, making unnecessary turns and leaps that don’t reflect real combat. This form of entertainment is more common among the Malays than in the surrounding areas. The main weapons used by these people are the kujur, or lance, and the kris. The kris is distinctly Malayan, but elsewhere on the island, they have a similar weapon, although it’s generally less intricate in design, lacking the signature wave in the blade that characterizes the kris, and is more akin to daggers or knives.
Among their exercises we never observe jumping or running. They smile at the Europeans, who in their excursions take so many unnecessary leaps. The custom of going barefoot may be a principal impediment to this practice in a country overrun with thorny shrubs, and where no fences occur to render it a matter of expediency.
Among their exercises, we never see jumping or running. They smile at the Europeans, who take so many unnecessary leaps on their outings. The practice of going barefoot may be a major obstacle to this in a country filled with thorny bushes, where there are no fences to make it practical.
DIVERSION OF TOSSING A BALL.
CHANGING UP BY THROWING A BALL.
They have a diversion similar to that described by Homer as practised among the Phaeacians, which consists in tossing an elastic wicker ball or round basket of split rattans into the air, and from one player to another, in a peculiar manner. This game is called by the Malays sipak raga, or, in the dialect of Bencoolen, chipak rago, and is played by a large party standing in an extended circle, who endeavour to keep up the ball by striking it either perpendicularly, in order to receive it again, or obliquely to some other person of the company, with the foot or the hand, the heel or the toe, the knee, the shoulder, the head, or with any other part of the body; the merit appearing to consist in producing the effect in the least obvious or most whimsical manner; and in this sport many of them attain an extraordinary degree of expertness. Among the plates of Lord Macartney's Embassy will be found the representation of a similar game, as practised by the natives of Cochinchina.
They have a game similar to what Homer described among the Phaeacians, which involves tossing an elastic wicker ball or a round basket made of split rattan into the air and passing it from one player to another in a unique way. This game is called sipak raga by the Malays, or chipak rago in the dialect of Bencoolen, and it's played by a large group of people standing in a wide circle. They try to keep the ball up by striking it either straight up to catch it again or at an angle to another person in the circle, using their foot or hand, heel or toe, knee, shoulder, head, or any other part of their body. The skill seems to lie in doing this in the least expected or most amusing way, and many of them become exceptionally skilled at this sport. In the plates from Lord Macartney's Embassy, you can find illustrations of a similar game played by the natives of Cochinchina.
SMOKING OF OPIUM.
Opium smoking.
The Sumatrans, and more particularly the Malays, are much attached, in common with many other eastern people, to the custom of smoking opium. The poppy which produces it not growing on the island, it is annually imported from Bengal in considerable quantities, in chests containing a hundred and forty pounds each. It is made up in cakes of five or six pounds weight, and packed with dried leaves; in which situation it will continue good and vendible for two years, but after that period grows hard and diminishes considerably in value. It is of a darker colour, and is supposed to have less strength than the Turkey opium. About a hundred and fifty chests are consumed annually on the west coast of Sumatra, where it is purchased, on an average, at three hundred dollars the chest, and sold again in smaller quantities at five or six. But on occasions of extraordinary scarcity I have known it to sell for its weight in silver, and a single chest to fetch upwards of three thousand dollars.
The Sumatrans, especially the Malays, have a strong attachment, like many other Eastern cultures, to the practice of smoking opium. Since the poppy that produces it doesn’t grow on the island, it’s imported every year from Bengal in significant amounts, with chests weighing one hundred and forty pounds each. The opium is formed into cakes weighing five or six pounds and packed with dried leaves; in this state, it stays good and sellable for two years, but after that, it becomes hard and drops significantly in value. It has a darker color and is thought to be less potent than Turkey opium. About one hundred fifty chests are used each year on the west coast of Sumatra, where it is usually bought for around three hundred dollars per chest, and then sold in smaller amounts at five or six dollars. However, during times of extreme scarcity, I’ve seen it sell for its weight in silver, with a single chest going for over three thousand dollars.
PREPARATION.
Preparation.
The method of preparing it for use is as follows. The raw opium is first boiled or seethed in a copper vessel; then strained through a cloth to free it from impurities; and then a second time boiled. The leaf of the tambaku, shred fine, is mixed with it, in a quantity sufficient to absorb the whole; and it is afterwards made up into small pills, about the size of a pea, for smoking. One of these being put into the small tube that projects from the side of the opium pipe, that tube is applied to a lamp, and the pill being lighted is consumed at one whiff or inflation of the lungs, attended with a whistling noise. The smoke is never emitted by the mouth, but usually receives vent through the nostrils, and sometimes, by adepts, through the passage of the ears and eyes. This preparation of the opium is called maddat, and is often adulterated in the process by mixing jaggri, or pine sugar, with it; as is the raw opium, by incorporating with it the fruit of the pisang or plantain.
The method for getting it ready for use is as follows. First, the raw opium is boiled in a copper pot; then it's strained through a cloth to remove impurities; and then it's boiled again. Finely shredded tambaku leaf is mixed in, enough to soak up everything, and then it's formed into small pills, about the size of a pea, for smoking. One of these pills is placed in the small tube attached to the opium pipe, that tube is heated with a lamp, and the pill is lit and inhaled in one breath, accompanied by a whistling sound. The smoke is never exhaled from the mouth but usually escapes through the nostrils, and sometimes, for skilled users, it even comes out through the ears and eyes. This preparation of opium is known as maddat and is often cut with jaggri, or palm sugar, during the process; the raw opium is also mixed with the fruit of the pisang or plantain.
EFFECTS OF OPIUM.
Effects of opium.
The use of opium among these people, as that of intoxicating liquors among other nations, is a species of luxury which all ranks adopt according to their ability, and which, when once become habitual, it is almost impossible to shake off. Being however like other luxuries expensive, few only among the lower or middling class of people can compass the regular enjoyment of it, even where its use is not restrained, as it is among the pepper-planters, to the times of their festivals. That the practice of smoking opium must be in some degree prejudicial to the health is highly probable; yet I am inclined to think that effects have been attributed to it much more pernicious to the constitution than it in reality causes. The bugis soldiers and others in the Malay bazaars whom we see most attached to it, and who use it to excess, commonly appear emaciated; but they are in other respects abandoned and debauched. The Limun and Batang Assei gold-traders, on the contrary, who are an active, laborious class of men but yet indulge as freely in opium as any others whatever, are notwithstanding the most healthy and vigorous people to be met with on the island. It has been usual also to attribute to the practice destructive consequences of another nature from the frenzy it has been supposed to excite in those who take it in quantities. But this should probably rank with the many errors that mankind have been led into by travellers addicted to the marvellous; and there is every reason to believe that the furious quarrels, desperate assassinations, and sanguinary attacks, which the use of opium is said to give birth to, are idle notions, originally adopted through ignorance and since maintained from the mere want of investigation, without having any solid foundation. It is not to be controverted, that those desperate acts of indiscriminate murder, called by us mucks, and by the natives mengamok, do actually take place, and frequently too in some parts of the East (in Java in particular) but it is not equally evident that they proceed from any intoxication except that of their unruly passions. Too often they are occasioned by excess of cruelty and injustice in their oppressors. On the west coast of Sumatra about twenty thousand pounds weight of this drug are consumed annually, yet instances of this crime do not happen (at least within the scope of our knowledge) above once in two or three years. During my residence there I had an opportunity of being an eyewitness but to one muck. The slave of a Portuguese woman, a man of the island of Nias, who in all probability had never handled an opium pipe in his life, being treated by his mistress with extreme severity for a trifling offence, vowed he would have revenge if she attempted to strike him again, and ran down the steps of the house with a knife in each hand, as it is said. She cried out, mengamok! The civil guard was called, who, having the power in these cases of exercising summary justice, fired half a dozen rounds into an outhouse where the unfortunate wretch had sheltered himself on their approach, and from whence he was at length dragged, covered with wounds. Many other mucks might perhaps be found, upon scrutiny, of the nature of the foregoing, where a man of strong feelings was driven by excess of injury to domestic rebellion.
The use of opium among these people, similar to the use of alcohol in other cultures, is a sort of luxury that people of all classes indulge in according to their means, and once it becomes a habit, it’s nearly impossible to break. However, like other luxuries, it can be expensive, so only a few from the lower or middle classes can afford to use it regularly, even where it isn't restricted, like among the pepper-planters during their festivals. It's likely that smoking opium is somewhat harmful to health; however, I believe that many negative effects have been overstated about it. The Bugis soldiers and others in the Malay markets who are most addicted to it, and who use it excessively, often appear thin and unhealthy, but they also lead disreputable lives otherwise. In contrast, the Limun and Batang Assei gold traders, who are active and hardworking but also freely indulge in opium like anyone else, are among the healthiest and most robust people on the island. It's also common to claim that smoking has horrific consequences due to the frenzy it supposedly induces in heavy users. But this idea likely stems from the many misunderstandings created by travelers who favor sensational stories; there’s good reason to believe that the wild brawls, murders, and violent attacks said to result from opium use are misconceptions, taken up out of ignorance and continued merely from a lack of inquiry, with little solid evidence backing them. It’s undeniable that acts of random murder, known to us as mucks and to the locals as mengamok, do indeed occur, often in some parts of the East (especially in Java), but it's less clear that these actions come from anything other than extreme emotional turmoil. Too often, these acts are incited by the brutality and injustice of their oppressors. On the west coast of Sumatra, about twenty thousand pounds of opium are consumed each year, yet such crimes are reported only once every couple of years, at most. During my time there, I only witnessed one such incident. A slave of a Portuguese woman, a man from the island of Nias who likely had never even used an opium pipe, was treated very harshly by his mistress for a minor offense. He vowed revenge if she tried to hit him again and ran down the stairs of the house with a knife in each hand. She cried out, mengamok! The civil guard was summoned, and having the authority to act swiftly in these situations, they fired several rounds into an outhouse where the unfortunate man had taken refuge. He was eventually pulled out, covered in injuries. Other cases of similar nature could probably be found upon closer examination, where a person with strong emotions was pushed into a domestic uprising by excessive mistreatment.
It is true that the Malays, when in a state of war they are bent on any daring enterprise, fortify themselves with a few whiffs of opium to render them insensible to danger, as the people of another nation are said to take a dram for the same purpose; but it must be observed that the resolution for the act precedes, and is not the effect of, the intoxication. They take the same precaution previous to being led to public execution; but on these occasions show greater signs of stupidity than frenzy. Upon the whole it may be reasonably concluded that the sanguinary achievements, for which the Malays have been famous, or infamous rather, in history, are more justly to be attributed to the natural ferocity of their disposition, or to the influence upon their manners of a particular state of society, than to the qualities of any drug whatever. The pretext of the soldiers of the country-guard for using opium is that it may render them watchful on their nightly posts: we on the contrary administer it to procure sleep, and according to the quantity it has either effect. The delirium it produces is known to be so very pleasing that Pope has supposed this to have been designed by Homer when he describes the delicious draught prepared by Helen, called nepenthe, which exhilarated the spirits and banished from the mind the recollection of woe.
It's true that the Malays, when in a state of war and ready for any bold venture, use a bit of opium to numb their awareness of danger, much like how people from another nation might take a shot for the same reason. However, it's important to note that the decision to act comes before the intoxication, not as a result of it. They take similar precautions before being taken to public executions, but in those moments, they show more signs of dullness than madness. Overall, it's reasonable to conclude that the violent acts for which the Malays are famous, or rather infamous, throughout history are more fairly attributed to their natural fierce nature or the influence of their society rather than any drug. The soldiers of the local guard claim they use opium to stay alert on their night shifts, while we use it to help us sleep, and depending on the amount, it can achieve either effect. The delirium it causes is known to be so enjoyable that Pope believed Homer intended to convey this with the delightful drink prepared by Helen, called nepenthe, which lifted spirits and erased the memory of sorrow.
It is remarkable that at Batavia, where the assassins just now described, when taken alive, are broken on the wheel, with every aggravation of punishment that the most rigorous justice can inflict, the mucks yet happen in great frequency, whilst at Bencoolen, where they are executed in the most simple and expeditious manner, the offence is extremely rare. Excesses of severity in punishment may deter men from deliberate and interested acts of villainy, but they add fuel to the atrocious enthusiasm of desperadoes.
It’s striking that in Batavia, where the assassins I've just described, when captured, are tortured brutally and subjected to the harshest punishments that strict justice allows, such crimes still happen frequently. Meanwhile, in Bencoolen, where the offenders are executed quickly and simply, these crimes are very rare. Severe punishments may discourage people from planning and committing acts of villainy, but they also ignite the violent enthusiasm of desperate individuals.
PIRATICAL ADVENTURES.
Pirate Adventures.
A further proof of the influence that mild government has upon the manners of people is that the piratical adventures so common on the eastern coast of the island are unknown on the western. Far from our having apprehensions of the Malays, the guards at the smaller English settlements are almost entirely composed of them, with a mixture of Bugis or Makasar people. Europeans, attended by Malays only, are continually travelling through the country. They are the only persons employed in carrying treasure to distant places; in the capacity of secretaries for the country correspondence; as civil officers in seizing delinquents among the planters and elsewhere; and as masters and supercargoes of the tambangans, praws, and other small coasting vessels. So great is the effect of moral causes and habit upon a physical character esteemed the most treacherous and sanguinary.
One more example of how a gentle government shapes people's behavior is that the pirate activities common on the eastern coast of the island are missing on the western side. Instead of fearing the Malays, the guards at the smaller English settlements are mostly made up of them, mixed with Bugis or Makasar people. Europeans, often accompanied only by Malays, frequently travel across the country. Malays are the only ones involved in transporting treasure to far-off places, acting as secretaries for local correspondence, serving as civil officers to capture wrongdoers among planters and elsewhere, and working as masters and supercargoes on the tambangans, praws, and other small coastal boats. The impact of moral influences and habits is so strong that it can change a physical character often seen as the most untrustworthy and violent.
CHAPTER 15.
CUSTOM OF CHEWING BETEL.
EMBLEMATIC PRESENTS.
ORATORY.
CHILDREN.
NAMES.
CIRCUMCISION.
FUNERALS.
RELIGION.
BETEL CHEWING CUSTOM.
SIGNIFICANT GIFTS.
SPEECH.
KIDS.
NAMES.
CIRCUMCISION.
FUNERALS.
FAITH.
CUSTOM OF CHEWING BETEL.
Betel chewing tradition.
Whether to blunt the edge of painful reflection, or owing to an aversion our natures have to total inaction, most nations have been addicted to the practice of enjoying by mastication or otherwise the flavour of substances possessing an inebriating quality. The South Americans chew the cocoa and mambee, and the eastern people the betel and areca, or, as they are called in the Malay language, sirih and pinang. This custom has been accurately described by various writers, and therefore it is almost superfluous to say more on the subject than that the Sumatrans universally use it, carry the ingredients constantly about them, and serve it to their guests on all occasions--the prince in a gold stand, and the poor man in a brass box or mat bag. The betel-stands of the better rank of people are usually of silver embossed with rude figures. The Sultan of Moco-moco was presented with one by the India Company, with their arms on it; and he possesses beside another of gold filigree. The form of the stand is the frustum of a hexagonal pyramid reversed, about six or eight inches in diameter. It contains many smaller vessels fitted to the angles, for holding the nut, leaf, and chunam, which is quicklime made from calcined shells; with places for the instruments (kachip) employed in cutting the first, and spatulas for spreading the last.
To soften the sting of painful thoughts, or because of our natural dislike for complete inactivity, most nations have taken to enjoying the flavors of substances that have intoxicating properties. South Americans chew cocoa and mambee, while people in the East consume betel and areca, known in Malay as sirih and pinang. This custom has been well documented by various writers, so it's almost unnecessary to elaborate, except to note that the Sumatrans use it universally, always carry the ingredients with them, and serve it to guests on all occasions—nobles in a gold stand and commoners in a brass box or mat bag. The betel stands for higher-status individuals are typically made of silver adorned with simple designs. The Sultan of Moco-moco received one from the India Company, which features their emblem, and he also owns another made of gold filigree. The stand is shaped like an upside-down hexagonal pyramid, about six to eight inches wide. It holds several smaller containers at the corners for the nut, leaf, and chunam, which is quicklime from burned shells; along with spaces for the tools (kachip) used to cut the nut and spatulas for spreading the chunam.
When the first salutation is over, which consists in bending the body, and the inferior's putting his joined hands between those of the superior, and then lifting them to his forehead, the betel is presented as a token of hospitality and an act of politeness. To omit it on the one hand or to reject it on the other would be an affront; as it would be likewise in a person of subordinate rank to address a great man without the precaution of chewing it before he spoke. All the preparation consists in spreading on the sirih leaf a small quantity of the chunam and folding it up with a slice of the pinang nut. Some mix with these gambir, which is a substance prepared from the leaves of a tree of that name by boiling their juices to a consistence, and made up into little balls or squares, as before spoken of: tobacco is likewise added, which is shred fine for the purpose, and carried between the lip and upper row of teeth. From the mastication of the first three proceeds a juice which tinges the saliva of a bright red, and which the leaf and nut, without the chunam, will not yield. This hue being communicated to the mouth and lips is esteemed ornamental; and an agreeable flavour is imparted to the breath. The juice is usually (after the first fermentation produced by the lime) though not always swallowed by the chewers of betel. We might reasonably suppose that its active qualities would injure the coats of the stomach, but experience seems to disprove such a consequence. It is common to see the teeth of elderly persons stand loose in the gums, which is probably the effect of this custom, but I do not think that it affects the soundness of the teeth themselves. Children begin to chew betel very young, and yet their teeth are always beautifully white till pains are taken to disfigure them by filing and staining them black. To persons who are not habituated to the composition it causes a strong giddiness, astringes and excoriates the tongue and fauces, and deadens for a time the faculty of taste. During the puasa, or fast of ramadan, the Mahometans among them abstain from the use of betel whilst the sun continues above the horizon; but excepting at this season it is the constant luxury of both sexes from an early period of childhood, till, becoming toothless, they are reduced to the necessity of having the ingredients previously reduced to a paste for them, that without further effort the betel may dissolve in the mouth. Along with the betel, and generally in the chunam, is the mode of conveying philtres, or love charms. How far they prove effectual I cannot take upon me to say, but suppose that they are of the nature of our stimulant medicines, and that the direction of the passion is of course indiscriminate. The practice of administering poison in this manner is not followed in latter times; but that the idea is not so far eradicated as entirely to prevent suspicion appears from this circumstance, that the guest, though taking a leaf from the betel-service of his entertainer, not unfrequently applies to it his own chunam, and never omits to pass the former between his thumb and forefinger in order to wipe off any extraneous matter. This mistrustful procedure is so common as not to give offence.
When the initial greeting is done, which involves bowing and the person of lower status placing their joined hands between those of the person of higher status, then lifting them to their forehead, betel is offered as a sign of hospitality and politeness. To skip this gesture or to refuse it would be considered rude; similarly, someone of lower rank addressing a powerful person without first chewing betel would be inappropriate. The preparation involves placing a small amount of chunam on a sirih leaf and folding it up with a piece of pinang nut. Some people also mix in gambir, which is made from boiled leaves of a tree, shaped into small balls or squares, and fine shredded tobacco, which is held between the lip and upper teeth. Chewing the first three ingredients creates a bright red juice that the leaf and nut alone do not produce. This color on the mouth and lips is considered attractive, and it gives a pleasant flavor to the breath. After the initial fermentation from the lime, the juice is usually swallowed by those chewing betel, although it's not always the case. One might think the active ingredients could harm the stomach, but practical experience suggests otherwise. It's common to see older people's teeth become loose in their gums, likely due to this habit, but it doesn't seem to harm the actual health of their teeth. Children start chewing betel at a young age, yet their teeth remain beautifully white until they actively try to darken them by filing and staining. For those unaccustomed to it, betel can cause dizziness, tighten the tongue, and temporarily dull the sense of taste. During Ramadan, Muslims abstain from using betel while the sun is up, but otherwise, it’s a regular indulgence for both genders from early childhood until they lose their teeth, at which point the ingredients are often mashed into a paste for easier consumption. Among the betel, there’s also a way of conveying love charms or philtres within the chunam. I can't say how effective these are, but I assume they function like our stimulant medicines, and their effect on emotions can be unpredictable. While the practice of using these means to poison hasn't occurred in recent times, the underlying suspicion remains. For instance, when a guest takes a leaf from the host's betel service, they often apply their own chunam to it and always pass it between their thumb and forefinger to remove any dirt. This cautious behavior is so common it’s not considered offensive.
TOBACCO.
Cigarettes.
Beside the mode before-mentioned of enjoying the flavour of tobacco it is also smoked by the natives and for this use--after shredding it fine whilst green and drying it well it is rolled up in the thin leaves of a tree, and is in that form called roko, a word they appear to have borrowed from the Dutch. The rokos are carried in the betel-box, or more commonly under the destar or handkerchief which, in imitation of a turband, surrounds the head. Much tobacco is likewise imported from China and sells at a high price. It seems to possess a greater pungency than the Sumatran plant, which the people cultivate for their own use in the interior parts of the island.
Besides the previously mentioned way of enjoying the flavor of tobacco, the locals also smoke it. For this purpose, they shred the green tobacco finely and dry it thoroughly before rolling it in thin tree leaves. This rolled tobacco is called roko, a term they seem to have borrowed from the Dutch. Rokos are carried in a betel box or, more commonly, tucked under the destar or handkerchief that wraps around the head like a turban. A lot of tobacco is also imported from China and sells for a high price. It appears to be more pungent than the Sumatran variety, which people grow for their personal use in the island's interior.
EMBLEMATIC PRESENTS.
Symbolic Gifts.
The custom of sending emblematical presents in order to make known, in a covert manner, the birth, progress, or change of certain affections of the mind, prevails here, as in some other parts of the East; and not only flowers of various kinds have their appropriate meaning, but also cayenne-pepper, betel-leaf, salt, and other articles are understood by adepts to denote love, jealousy, resentment, hatred, and other strong feelings.
The tradition of giving symbolic gifts to subtly express the birth, development, or change of specific emotions is common here, just like in some other Eastern regions. Not only do different types of flowers have their own meanings, but items like cayenne pepper, betel leaf, salt, and others are recognized by those in the know to represent love, jealousy, resentment, hatred, and other intense feelings.
ORATORY.
Public speaking.
The Sumatrans in general are good speakers. The gift of oratory seems natural to them. I knew many among them whose harangues I have listened to with pleasure and admiration. This may be accounted for perhaps from the constitution of their government, which being far removed from despotism seems to admit, in some degree, every member of the society to a share in the public deliberations. Where personal endowments, as has been observed, will often raise a private man to a share of importance in the community,superior to that of a nominal chief, there is abundant inducement for the acquisition of these valuable talents. The forms of their judicial proceedings likewise, where there are no established advocates and each man depends upon his own or his friend's abilities for the management of his cause, must doubtless contribute to this habitual eloquence. We may add to these conjectures the nature of their domestic manners, which introduce the sons at an early period of life into the business of the family, and the counsels of their elders. There is little to be perceived among them of that passion for childish sports which marks the character of our boys from the seventh to the fourteenth year. In Sumatra you may observe infants, not exceeding the former age, full dressed and armed with a kris, seated in the circle of the old men of the dusun, and attending to their debates with a gravity of countenance not surpassed by their grandfathers. Thus initiated they are qualified to deliver an opinion in public at a time of life when an English schoolboy could scarcely return an answer to a question beyond the limits of his grammar or syntax, which he has learned by rote. It is not a little unaccountable that this people, who hold the art of speaking in such high esteem, and evidently pique themselves on the attainment of it, should yet take so much pains to destroy the organs of speech in filing down and otherwise disfiguring their teeth; and likewise adopt the uncouth practice of filling their mouths with betel whenever they prepare to hold forth. We must conclude that it is not upon the graces of elocution they value an orator, but his artful and judicious management of the subject matter; together with a copiousness of phrase, a perspicuity of thought, an advantageous arrangement, and a readiness, especially, at unravelling the difficulties and intricacies of their suits.
The Sumatrans, in general, are great speakers. The skill of oratory seems natural to them. I’ve met many of them whose speeches I've enjoyed and admired. This might be due to their government structure, which, being far from tyranny, allows every member of society to have a say in public discussions. When personal talents can elevate an individual’s status in the community to surpass that of a mere nominal leader, there’s plenty of motivation to develop these valuable skills. Their legal system also plays a role, as there are no formal lawyers; each person relies on their own abilities or those of their friends to manage their case, which likely contributes to their consistent eloquence. We can also consider their home life, which brings sons into family matters and discussions with their elders at an early age. There’s not much of that obsession with childish games that characterizes boys aged seven to fourteen in our culture. In Sumatra, you'll see toddlers, not much older than seven, fully dressed and wielding a kris, sitting among the village elders and attentively listening to their debates with a seriousness that rivals their grandfathers. Because of this early exposure, they are prepared to share their opinions publicly at an age when an English schoolboy could barely answer a question beyond what he’s memorized about grammar or syntax. It’s quite puzzling that a culture that values speaking so highly and clearly takes such great efforts to damage their speech capabilities by filing and otherwise altering their teeth, and also engages in the strange habit of chewing betel before speaking. We can conclude that what they value in an orator isn’t just the charm of their speaking style, but their skillful and thoughtful handling of the topic, along with a rich vocabulary, clear thinking, effective organization, and especially the ability to untangle the complexities of their cases.
CHILD-BEARING.
Childbirth.
The curse entailed on women in the article of child-bearing does not fall so heavy in this as in the northern countries. Their pregnancy scarcely at any period prevents their attendance on the ordinary domestic duties; and usually within a few hours after their delivery they walk to the bathing-place, at a small distance from the house. The presence of a sage femme is often esteemed superfluous. The facility of parturition may probably be owing to the relaxation of the frame from the warmth of the climate; to which cause also may be attributed the paucity of children borne by the Sumatran women and the early decay of their beauty and strength. They have the tokens of old age at a season of life when European women have not passed their prime. They are like the fruits of the country, soon ripe and soon decayed. They bear children before fifteen, are generally past it at thirty, and grey-headed and shrivelled at forty. I do not recollect hearing of any woman who had six children except the wife of Raddin of Madura, who had more; and she, contrary to the universal custom, did not give suck to hers.
The curse placed on women for bearing children isn't as severe here as it is in northern countries. Their pregnancy rarely interferes with their usual household tasks, and typically, just a few hours after giving birth, they walk to the bathing spot nearby. Having a midwife is often seen as unnecessary. The ease of giving birth might be due to the body's relaxation from the warm climate, which could also explain why Sumatran women have fewer children and experience early deterioration of their beauty and strength. They show signs of aging at an age when European women are still in their prime. They resemble the local fruits, ripening quickly and decaying just as fast. They often have children before turning fifteen, are generally done by thirty, and are grey and wrinkled by forty. I don't recall hearing about any woman who had six children except for Raddin of Madura's wife, who had more; she, unlike most, didn't breastfeed her children.
TREATMENT OF CHILDREN.
Childcare.
Mothers carry the children not on the arm, as our nurses do, but straddling on the hip, and usually supported by a cloth which ties in a knot on the opposite shoulder. This practice I have been told is common in some parts of Wales. It is much safer than the other method, less tiresome to the nurse, and the child has the advantage of sitting in a less constrained posture: but the defensive armour of stays, and offensive weapons called pins, might be some objection to the general introduction of the fashion in England. The children are nursed but little, not confined by any swathing or bandages, and, being suffered to roll about the floor, soon learn to walk and shift for themselves. When cradles are used they are swung suspended from the ceiling of the rooms.
Mothers carry their children not on their arms like our nurses do, but on their hips, usually supported by a cloth that ties in a knot on the opposite shoulder. I've been told this is common in some parts of Wales. It’s safer than the other method, less tiring for the caregiver, and the child benefits from sitting in a more relaxed position. However, the restrictive garments called stays and the pins used might pose some issues for introducing this style more widely in England. Children are hardly ever swaddled or confined, and since they’re allowed to roll around on the floor, they quickly learn to walk and fend for themselves. When cradles are used, they are suspended from the ceiling of the rooms.
AGE OF THE PEOPLE.
AGE OF THE POPULATION.
The country people can very seldom give an account of their age, being entirely without any species of chronology. Among those country people who profess themselves Mahometans to very few is the date of the Hejra known; and even of those who in their writings make use of it not one in ten can pronounce in what year of it he was born. After a few taun padi (harvests) are elapsed they are bewildered in regard to the date of an event, and only guess at it from some contemporary circumstance of notoriety, as the appointment of a particular dupati, the incursion of a certain enemy, or the like. As far as can be judged from observation it would seem that not a great proportion of the men attain to the age of fifty, and sixty years is accounted a long life.
Country people rarely know their age because they lack any sense of timekeeping. Among those who identify as Muslims, very few know the date of the Hejira; and even among those who use it in their writings, only one in ten can tell in which year they were born. After a few harvests pass, they become confused about when an event took place, often guessing based on something notable that happened around that time, like the appointment of a certain leader or an enemy's attack. From observation, it seems that not many men live to be fifty, and reaching sixty is considered a long life.
NAMES.
NAMES.
The children among the Rejangs have generally a name given to them by their parents soon after their birth, which is called namo daging. The galar (cognomen), another species of name, or title, as we improperly translate it, is bestowed at a subsequent, but not at any determinate, period: sometimes as the lads rise to manhood, at an entertainment given by the parent, on some particular occasion; and often at their marriage. It is generally conferred by the old men of the neighbouring villages, when assembled; but instances occur of its being irregularly assumed by the persons themselves; and some never obtain any galar. It is also not unusual, at a convention held on business of importance, to change the galar of one or two of the principal personages to others of superior estimation; though it is not easy to discover in what this pre-eminence consists, the appellations being entirely arbitrary, at the fancy of those who confer them: perhaps in the loftier sound, or more pompous allusion in the sense, which latter is sometimes carried to an extraordinary pitch of bombast, as in the instance of Pengunchang bumi, or Shaker of the World, the title of a pangeran of Manna. But a climax is not always perceptible in the change.
The children among the Rejangs usually receive a name from their parents shortly after they're born, called namo daging. The galar (cognomen), another type of name or title, is given later, but not at a specific time: sometimes as the boys reach adulthood during a celebration held by their parents, on a special occasion, or often at their wedding. It’s generally given by the elderly men of nearby villages when they gather together; however, there are cases where individuals claim their own galar, and some never receive one at all. It's also common during a meeting held for important matters to change the galar of a few key individuals to names that carry more weight; though it’s hard to pinpoint what this superiority is based on, since the titles are completely arbitrary and reflect the preferences of those who bestow them. Perhaps it’s due to a more impressive sound or a fancier meaning, which can sometimes go to an extreme level of grandiosity, as seen in the case of Pengunchang bumi, or Shaker of the World, the title of a pangeran from Manna. However, there isn’t always a noticeable increase in significance with the name change.
FATHER NAMED FROM HIS CHILD.
DAD NAMED AFTER HIS KID.
The father, in many parts of the country, particularly in Passummah, is distinguished by the name of his first child, as Pa-Ladin, or Pa-Rindu (Pa for bapa, signifying the father of), and loses in this acquired his own proper name. This is a singular custom, and surely less conformable to the order of nature than that which names the son from the father. There it is not usual to give them a galar on their marriage, as with the Rejangs, among whom the filionymic is not so common, though sometimes adopted, and occasionally joined with the galar; as Radin-pa-Chirano. The women never change the name given them at the time of their birth; yet frequently they are called, through courtesy, from their eldest child, Ma-si-ano, the mother of such a one; but rather as a polite description than a name. The word or particle Si is prefixed to the birth-names of persons, which almost ever consist of but a single word, as Si Bintang, Si Tolong; and we find from Captain Forrest's voyage that in the island of Mindanao the infant son of the Raja Muda was named Se Mama.
The father, in many regions of the country, especially in Passummah, is identified by the name of his first child, such as Pa-Ladin or Pa-Rindu (Pa meaning father of), and in doing so, he loses his own personalized name. This is a unique custom and certainly less aligned with the natural order than naming the son after the father. Typically, he is not given a galar at their marriage, unlike the Rejangs, where the practice of filionymy is not as common, though sometimes it is adopted and occasionally combined with the galar, like Radin-pa-Chirano. Women never change the names given to them at birth; however, they are often referred to out of courtesy by their eldest child’s name, Ma-si-ano, meaning the mother of such a child, but this is more of a polite reference than an actual name. The word or particle Si is added to the birth names of people, which usually consist of just a single word, like Si Bintang, Si Tolong; and we learn from Captain Forrest's voyage that in the island of Mindanao, the infant son of the Raja Muda was named Se Mama.
HESITATE TO PRONOUNCE THEIR OWN NAME.
HESITATE TO SAY THEIR OWN NAME.
A Sumatran ever scrupulously abstains from pronouncing his own name; not as I understand from any motive of superstition, but merely as a punctilio in manners. It occasions him infinite embarrassment when a stranger, unacquainted with their customs, requires it of him. As soon as he recovers from his confusion he solicits the interposition of his neighbour.
A Sumatran always carefully avoids saying his own name; not out of superstition, but simply as a matter of etiquette. It causes him a lot of embarrassment when a stranger, unaware of their customs, asks for it. Once he gets over his confusion, he asks his neighbor to step in.
ADDRESS IN THE THIRD PERSON.
ADDRESS IN THE THIRD PERSON.
He is never addressed, except in the case of a superior dictating to his dependant, in the second person, but always in the third; using his name or title instead of the pronoun; and when these are unknown a general title of respect is substituted, and they say, for instance, apa orang kaya punia suka, what is his honour's pleasure for what is your, or your honour's pleasure? When criminals or other ignominious persons are spoken to use is made of the pronoun personal kau (a contraction of angkau) particularly expressive of contempt. The idea of disrespect annexed to the use of the second person in discourse, though difficult to be accounted for, seems pretty general in the world. The Europeans, to avoid the supposed indecorum, exchange the singular number for the plural; but I think with less propriety of effect than the Asiatic mode; if to take off from the bluntness of address be the object aimed at.
He is never addressed directly, except when a superior is dictating to their subordinate, using the second person. Typically, he's referred to in the third person, with his name or title replacing the pronoun. If those are unknown, a general respectful title is used instead. For example, they might say, "what is his honour's pleasure?" rather than "what is your or your honour's pleasure?" When talking to criminals or other ignoble individuals, the pronoun "kau" (a contraction of "angkau") is used, which expresses contempt. The idea that using the second person in conversation is disrespectful, although hard to explain, seems to be pretty common worldwide. Europeans, to avoid perceived rudeness, switch from the singular to the plural form. However, I think this approach is less effective than the Asian method if the goal is to soften the bluntness of the address.
CIRCUMCISION.
Circumcision.
The boys are circumcised, where Mahometanism prevails, between the sixth and tenth year. The ceremony is called krat kulop and buang or lepas malu (casting away their shame), and a bimbang is usually given on the occasion; as well as at the ceremony of boring the ears and filing the teeth of their daughters (before described), which takes place at about the age of ten or twelve; and until this is performed they cannot with propriety be married.
The boys are circumcised where Islam is practiced, usually between the ages of six and ten. The ceremony is called krat kulop and buang or lepas malu (casting away their shame), and a bimbang is typically given for the occasion; this also happens during the ceremony of piercing the ears and filing the teeth of their daughters, which occurs around the age of ten or twelve. Until these rites are performed, they cannot be properly married.
FUNERALS.
Funerals.
At their funerals the corpse is carried to the place of interment on a broad plank, which is kept for the public service of the dusun, and lasts for many generations. It is constantly rubbed with lime, either to preserve it from decay or to keep it pure. No coffin is made use of; the body being simply wrapped in white cloth, particularly of the sort called hummums. In forming the grave (kubur), after digging to a convenient depth they make a cavity in the side, at bottom, of sufficient dimensions to contain the body, which is there deposited on its right side. By this mode the earth literally lies light upon it; and the cavity, after strewing flowers in it, they stop up by two boards fastened angularly to each other, so that the one is on the top of the corpse, whilst the other defends it on the open side, the edge resting on the bottom of the grave. The outer excavation is then filled up with earth, and little white flags or streamers are stuck in order around. They likewise plant a shrub, bearing a white flower, called kumbangkamboja (Plumeria obtusa), and in some places wild marjoram. The women who attend the funeral make a hideous noise, not much unlike the Irish howl. On the third and seventh day the relations perform a ceremony at the grave, and at the end of twelve months that of tegga batu, or setting up a few long elliptical stones at the head and foot, which, being scarce in some parts of the country, bear a considerable price. On this occasion they kill and feast on a buffalo, and leave the head to decay on the spot as a token of the honour they have done to the deceased, in eating to his memory.* The ancient burying-places are called krammat, and are supposed to have been those of the holy men by whom their ancestors were converted to the faith. They are held in extraordinary reverence, and the least disturbance or violation of the ground, though all traces of the graves be obliterated, is regarded as an unpardonable sacrilege.
At their funerals, the body is carried to the burial site on a large plank that is used for community services in the dusun and lasts for many generations. It is regularly rubbed with lime to either prevent decay or keep it pure. No coffin is used; the body is simply wrapped in white cloth, especially a type called hummums. When preparing the grave (kubur), they dig to a suitable depth and create a cavity on the side at the bottom that's big enough to hold the body, which is placed there on its right side. This way, the earth rests lightly on top. After laying flowers in the cavity, they cover it with two boards fastened at an angle, one on top of the body and the other shielding it from the open side, resting on the bottom of the grave. The outer hole is then filled with dirt, and small white flags or streamers are placed around. They also plant a shrub with white flowers called kumbang-kamboja (Plumeria obtusa) and sometimes wild marjoram. The women at the funeral make a loud noise similar to the Irish howl. On the third and seventh days, the family holds a ceremony at the grave, and after twelve months, they perform tegga batu, or erect a few long elliptical stones at the head and foot, which are rare in some regions and quite valuable. During this occasion, they kill and feast on a buffalo, leaving the head to decay on the spot as a sign of respect for the deceased, eating in memory of them.* The ancient burial sites are called krammat and are believed to be those of the holy men who converted their ancestors to the faith. They are held in great reverence, and even the slightest disturbance of the ground, even when all signs of the graves are gone, is seen as an unpardonable act of sacrilege.
(*Footnote. The above ceremonies (with the exception of the last) are briefly described in the following lines, extracted from a Malayan poem.Setelah sudah de tangisi, nia Lalu de kubur de tanamkan 'nia De ambel koran de ajikan 'nia Sopaya lepas deri sangsara 'nia Mengaji de kubur tujuh ari Setelah de khatam tiga kali Sudah de tegga batu sakali Membayer utang pada si-mati.)
(*Footnote. The ceremonies described above (except for the last one) are summarized in the following lines from a Malayan poem.After she was mourned, Nia was buried and planted. The newspaper was taken and taught so she could be free from suffering. She was read to at the grave seven days after completing the readings three times. A stone was set up once to pay the debt to the deceased.
RELIGION.
FAITH.
In works descriptive of the manners of people little known to the world the account of their religion usually constitutes an article of the first importance. Mine will labour under the contrary disadvantage. The ancient and genuine religion of the Rejangs, if in fact they ever had any, is scarcely now to be traced; and what principally adds to its obscurity, and the difficulty of getting information on the subject, is that even those among them who have not been initiated in the principles of Mahometanism yet regard those who have as persons advanced a step in knowledge beyond them, and therefore hesitate to own circumstantially that they remain still unenlightened. Ceremonies are fascinating to mankind, and without comprehending with what views they were instituted the profanum vulgus naturally give them credit for something mysterious and above their capacities, and accordingly pay them a tribute of respect. With Mahometanism a more extensive field of knowledge (I speak in comparison) is open to its converts, and some additional notions of science are conveyed. These help to give it importance, though it must be confessed they are not the most pure tenets of that religion which have found their way to Sumatra; nor are even the ceremonial parts very scrupulously adhered to. Many who profess to follow it give themselves not the least concern about its injunctions, or even know what they require. A Malay at Manna upbraided a countryman with the total ignorance of religion his nation laboured under. "You pay a veneration to the tombs of your ancestors: what foundation have you for supposing that your dead ancestors can lend you assistance?" "It may be true," answered the other, "but what foundation have you for expecting assistance from Allah and Mahomet?" "Are you not aware, replied the Malay, that it is written in a Book? Have you not heard of the Koran?" The native of Passummah, with conscious inferiority, submitted to the force of this argument.
In descriptions of the customs of lesser-known groups, their religious practices are usually a key aspect. My account, however, faces a significant challenge. The ancient and authentic beliefs of the Rejangs, if they ever existed, are hardly recognizable today. What complicates this even more is that even those among them who haven't been initiated into the principles of Islam see those who have as more knowledgeable. Because of this, they hesitate to admit that they remain in ignorance. Ceremonies intrigue people, and without understanding their original purpose, the general public naturally assigns them some mysterious significance, leading to a sense of respect towards them. Islam offers a broader range of knowledge (at least by comparison) to its followers, along with some scientific concepts. This gives it a level of importance, although it must be noted that the purer principles of the religion that have reached Sumatra are not quite intact, and even the ceremonial aspects are not strictly followed. Many who claim to adhere to it seem unconcerned about its teachings or even know what they entail. A Malay in Manna criticized a fellow local for their complete ignorance of religion: "You show respect to the tombs of your ancestors; what basis do you have for believing that they can help you?" The other replied, "That may be true, but what basis do you have for expecting help from Allah and Muhammad?" The Malay responded, "Aren't you aware that it's written in a Book? Haven't you heard of the Koran?" The Passummah local, feeling a sense of inferiority, conceded to this argument.
If by religion is meant a public or private form of worship of any kind, and if prayers, processions, meetings, offerings, images, or priests are any of them necessary to constitute it, I can pronounce that the Rejangs are totally without religion and cannot with propriety be even termed pagans, if that, as I apprehend, conveys the idea of mistaken worship. They neither worship God, devil, nor idols. They are not however without superstitious beliefs of many kinds, and have certainly a confused notion, though perhaps derived from their intercourse with other people, of some species of superior beings who have the power of rendering themselves visible or invisible at pleasure. These they call orang alus, fine, or impalpable beings, and regard them as possessing the faculty of doing them good or evil, deprecating their wrath as the sense of present misfortunes or apprehension of future prevails in their minds. But when they speak particularly of them they call them by the appellations of maleikat and jin, which are the angels and evil spirits of the Arabians, and the idea may probably have been borrowed at the same time with the names. These are the powers they also refer to in an oath. I have heard a dupati say, "My grandfather took an oath that he would not demand the jujur of that woman, and imprecated a curse on any of his descendants that should do it: I never have, nor could I without salah kapada maleikat--an offence against the angels." Thus they say also, de talong nabi, maleikat, the prophet and angels assisting. This is pure Mahometanism.
If by religion we mean any form of public or private worship, and if things like prayers, processions, meetings, offerings, images, or priests are considered necessary for that, I can say that the Rejangs completely lack religion and shouldn’t even be called pagans, since that implies a form of misguided worship. They don’t worship God, devils, or idols. However, they do have various superstitious beliefs and a somewhat confused idea—possibly influenced by their interactions with other people—about some kind of higher beings who can appear or disappear at will. They refer to these beings as orang alus, or fine, or impalpable beings, viewing them as capable of bringing good or harm, and they seek to appease them when they feel misfortune or fear future troubles. When they specifically talk about them, they use the terms maleikat and jin, which are the Arabic words for angels and evil spirits, suggesting they may have borrowed the concept along with the names. These are also the powers they refer to in oaths. I've heard a dupati say, "My grandfather swore he wouldn’t demand the jujur from that woman and cursed any of his descendants who might; I never have, nor could I without salah kapada maleikat—an offense against the angels." They also say, de talong nabi, maleikat, the prophet and angels assisting. This is purely Mahometanism.
NO NAME FOR THE DEITY.
NO NAME FOR THE GOD.
The clearest proof that they never entertained an idea of Theism or the belief of one supreme power is that they have no word in their language to express the person of God, except the Allah tala of the Malays, corrupted by them to Ulah tallo. Yet when questioned on the subject they assert their ancestors' knowledge of a deity, though their thoughts were never employed about him; but this evidently means no more than that their forefathers as well as themselves had heard of the Allah of the Mahometans (Allah orang islam).
The clearest proof that they never considered the idea of Theism or the belief in one supreme power is that they have no word in their language to refer to God, except for the Allah tala used by the Malays, which they have altered to Ulah tallo. Yet, when asked about this, they claim their ancestors had knowledge of a deity, although their thoughts were never focused on Him; this clearly just means that their forefathers, like themselves, had heard of the Allah of the Muslims (Allah orang islam).
IDEA OF INVISIBLE BEINGS.
CONCEPT OF INVISIBLE BEINGS.
They use, both in Rejang and Passummah, the word dewa to express a superior invisible class of beings; but each country acknowledges it to be of foreign derivation, and they suppose it Javanese. Radin, of Madura, an island close to Java, who was well conversant with the religious opinions of most nations, asserted to me that dewa was an original word of that country for a superior being, which the Javans of the interior believed in, but with regard to whom they used no ceremonies or forms of worship:* that they had some idea of a future life, but not as a state of retribution, conceiving immortality to be the lot of rich rather than of good men. I recollect that an inhabitant of one of the islands farther eastward observed to me, with great simplicity, that only great men went to the skies; how should poor men find admittance there? The Sumatrans, where untinctured with Mahometanism, do not appear to have any notion of a future state. Their conception of virtue or vice extends no farther than to the immediate effect of actions to the benefit or prejudice of society, and all such as tend not to either of these ends are in their estimation perfectly indifferent.
They use the word dewa in both Rejang and Passummah to describe a superior invisible class of beings; however, each region acknowledges that the term comes from elsewhere and they think it is Javanese. Radin, from Madura, which is near Java, who was knowledgeable about the religious beliefs of many cultures, told me that dewa was an original word from his country for a superior being, one that the Javanese in the interior believed in, but they didn’t have any rituals or forms of worship associated with it. He mentioned that they had some idea of an afterlife, but not as a form of punishment or reward, believing instead that immortality was more for the wealthy than for good people. I remember a resident of one of the islands further east telling me quite plainly that only great men ascended to the skies; how could poor men gain entry there? The people of Sumatra, where Islam hasn’t taken root, don’t seem to have any concept of an afterlife. Their understanding of virtue and vice only relates to the immediate effects of actions on the welfare of society, and anything that doesn’t contribute to either of these outcomes is considered completely neutral in their view.
(*Footnote. In the Transactions of the Batavian Society Volumes 1 and 3 is to be found a History of these Dewas of the Javans, translated from an original manuscript. The mythology is childish and incoherent. The Dutch commentator supposes them to have been a race of men held sacred, forming a species of Hierarchy, like the government of the Lamas in Tartary.)
(*Footnote. The Transactions of the Batavian Society, Volumes 1 and 3, include a history of these Dewas of the Javanese, translated from an original manuscript. The mythology is simplistic and disjointed. The Dutch commentator believes they were a sacred race of people, creating a type of hierarchy similar to the government of the Lamas in Tartary.)
Notwithstanding what is asserted of the originality of the word dewa, I cannot help remarking its extreme affinity to the Persian word div or diw, which signifies an evil spirit or bad genius. Perhaps, long antecedent to the introduction of the faith of the khalifs among the eastern people, this word might have found its way and been naturalized in the islands; or perhaps its progress was in a contrary direction. It has likewise a connexion in sound with the names used to express a deity or some degree of superior being by many other people of this region of the earth. The Battas, inhabitants of the northern end of Sumatra, whom I shall describe hereafter, use the word daibattah or daivattah; the Chingalese of Ceylon dewiju, the Telingas of India dai-wundu, the Biajus of Borneo dewattah, the Papuas of New Guinea 'wat, and the Pampangos of the Philippines diuata. It bears likewise an affinity (perhaps accidental) to the deus and deitas of the Romans.*
Despite claims about the originality of the word dewa, I can’t help but notice its strong resemblance to the Persian word div or diw, which means an evil spirit or malevolent force. It’s possible that long before the spread of the khalif's faith among Eastern peoples, this word made its way into the islands and became established there; or maybe it moved in the opposite direction. The sound of the word also relates to terms used by many other cultures in this part of the world to refer to a deity or a higher being. The Battas, who live at the northern tip of Sumatra, use the term daibattah or daivattah; the Chingalese in Ceylon say dewiju, the Telingas in India use dai-wundu, the Biajus in Borneo say dewattah, the Papuas in New Guinea say 'wat, and the Pampangos in the Philippines refer to it as diuata. It also has a possible connection (perhaps coincidental) to the Roman words deus and deitas.*
(*Footnote. At the period when the above was written I was little aware of the intimate connexion now well understood to have anciently subsisted between the Hindus and the various nations beyond the Ganges. The most evident proofs appear of the extensive dissemination both of their language and mythology throughout Sumatra, Java, Balli (where at this day they are best preserved), and the other eastern islands. To the Sanskrit words dewa and dewata, signifying divinities in that great mother-tongue, we are therefore to look for the source of the terms, more or less corrupted, that have been mentioned in the text. See Asiatic Researches Volume 4 page 223.)
(*Footnote. When this was written, I had little awareness of the close connection that is now well understood to have existed between the Hindus and various nations across the Ganges. There is clear evidence of the widespread influence of their language and mythology throughout Sumatra, Java, Bali (where they are best preserved today), and other eastern islands. Therefore, we should look to the Sanskrit words dewa and dewata, which mean divinities in that ancient language, as the source of the terms that have been mentioned in the text, though they may be slightly altered. See Asiatic Researches Volume 4 page 223.)
VENERATION FOR THE MANES AND TOMBS OF THEIR ANCESTORS.
VENERATION FOR THE SPIRITS AND GRAVES OF THEIR ANCESTORS.
The superstition which has the strongest influence on the minds of the Sumatrans, and which approaches the nearest to a species of religion, is that which leads them to venerate, almost to the point of worshipping, the tombs and manes of their deceased ancestors (nenek puyang). These they are attached to as strongly as to life itself, and to oblige them to remove from the neighbourhood of their krammat is like tearing up a tree by the roots; these the more genuine country people regard chiefly, when they take a solemn oath, and to these they apostrophise in instances of sudden calamity. Had they the art of making images or other representations of them they would be perfect lares, penates, or household gods. It has been asserted to me by the natives (conformably to what we are told by some of the early travellers) that in very ancient times the Sumatrans made a practice of burning the bodies of their dead, but I could never find any traces of the custom, or any circumstances that corroborated it.
The superstition that impacts the Sumatrans the most, almost resembling a kind of religion, is their reverence for the graves and spirits of their deceased ancestors (nenek puyang). They are as deeply connected to these as they are to life itself, and asking them to move away from their krammat feels like uprooting a tree. The more traditional people especially honor these ancestors when taking a serious oath, and they call on them during sudden emergencies. If they had the skill to create images or representations of them, they would serve as perfect household gods. Natives have told me (consistent with what some early travelers reported) that long ago, the Sumatrans used to practice cremating their dead, but I’ve never found any evidence or circumstances that support this.
METEMPSYCHOSIS.
Reincarnation.
They have an imperfect notion of a metempsychosis, but not in any degree systematic, nor considered as an article of religious faith. Popular stories prevail amongst them of such a particular man being changed into a tiger or other beast. They seem to think indeed that tigers in general are actuated with the spirits of departed men, and no consideration will prevail on a countryman to catch or to wound one but in self-defence, or immediately after the act of destroying a friend or relation. They speak of them with a degree of awe, and hesitate to call them by their common name (rimau or machang), terming them respectfully satwa (the wild animals), or even nenek (ancestors), as really believing them such, or by way of soothing and coaxing them; as our ignorant country folk call the fairies the good people. When a European procures traps to be set, by the means of persons less superstitious, the inhabitants of the neighbourhood have been known to go at night to the place and practise some forms in order to persuade the animal, when caught, or when he shall perceive the bait, that it was not laid by them, or with their consent. They talk of a place in the country where the tigers have a court and maintain a regular form of government, in towns, the houses of which are thatched with women's hair. It happened that in one month seven or eight people were killed by these prowling beasts in Manna district; upon which a report became current that fifteen hundred of them were come down from Passummah, of which number four were without understanding (gila), and having separated from the rest ran about the country occasioning all the mischief that was felt. The alligators also are highly destructive, owing to the constant practice of bathing in the rivers, and are regarded with nearly the same degree of religious terror. Fear is the parent of superstition, by ignorance. Those two animals prove the Sumatran's greatest scourge. The mischief the former commit is incredible, whole villages being often depopulated by them, and the suffering people learn to reverence as supernatural effects the furious ravages of an enemy they have not resolution to oppose.
They have an imperfect understanding of reincarnation, but it's not really organized or seen as a religious belief. Popular stories among them tell of a specific person being transformed into a tiger or other animal. They tend to think that tigers, in general, are possessed by the spirits of deceased individuals, and no country person will attempt to catch or harm one unless it's for self-defense or right after the animal has attacked a friend or relative. They speak about tigers with a sense of awe and hesitate to use their common names (rimau or machang), often referring to them respectfully as satwa (the wild animals) or even nenek (ancestors), truly believing this, or doing it to soothe and coax them, much like how our rural folk refer to fairies as the good people. When a European sets traps through people who are less superstitious, locals have been known to go to the site at night and perform rituals to convince the captured animal, or one that notices the bait, that it was not laid by them or with their permission. They talk about a place in the countryside where tigers hold court and have a formal government, in towns where the houses are thatched with women's hair. There was one month when seven or eight people were killed by these wandering beasts in the Manna district, leading to rumors that fifteen hundred of them had come down from Passummah, among which four were considered insane (gila), and having separated from the rest caused all the chaos. The alligators are also highly destructive because of the ongoing practice of bathing in the rivers, and they invoke nearly the same kind of religious fear. Fear breeds superstition through ignorance. These two animals are the greatest threat to the people of Sumatra. The destruction caused by the former is unbelievable, often depopulating entire villages, and the suffering locals come to see the devastating attacks of this relentless enemy as supernatural events they lack the courage to confront.
The Sumatrans are firmly persuaded that various particular persons are what they term betuah (sacred, impassive, invulnerable, not liable to accident), and this quality they sometimes extend to things inanimate, as ships and boats. Such an opinion, which we should suppose every man might have an opportunity of bringing to the test of truth, affords a humiliating proof of the weakness and credulity of human nature, and the fallibility of testimony, when a film of prejudice obscures the light of the understanding. I have known two men, whose honesty, good faith, and reasonableness in the general concerns of life were well established, and whose assertions would have weight in transactions of consequence: these men I have heard maintain, with the most deliberate confidence and an appearance of inward conviction of their own sincerity, that they had more than once in the course of their wars attempted to run their weapons into the naked body of their adversary, which they found impenetrable, their points being continually and miraculously turned without any effort on the part of the orang betuah: and that hundreds of instances of the like nature, where the invulnerable man did not possess the smallest natural means of opposition, had come within their observation. An English officer, with more courage and humour than discretion, exposed one imposture of this kind. A man having boasted in his presence that he was endowed with this supernatural privilege, the officer took an opportunity of applying to his arm the point of a sword and drew the blood, to the no little diversion of the spectators, and mortification of the pretender to superior gifts, who vowed revenge, and would have taken it had not means been used to keep him at a distance. But a single detection of charlatanerie is not effectual to destroy a prevalent superstition. These impostors are usually found among the Malays and not the more simple country people.
The Sumatrans strongly believe that certain individuals are what they call betuah (sacred, invulnerable, not prone to accidents), and they sometimes extend this belief to inanimate objects like ships and boats. This belief, which we might think every person could test for themselves, is a humbling indication of human weakness and gullibility, as well as the unreliability of testimony when bias clouds judgment. I’ve known two men whose honesty, good faith, and reasonable approach to life were well recognized, and whose statements would carry weight in significant matters. I’ve heard these men confidently assert, with genuine conviction in their sincerity, that during their wars, they had tried to stab their enemies with their weapons, which they found to be impenetrable, and that their blades were consistently and miraculously deflected without any effort from the orang betuah. They claimed to have witnessed hundreds of similar instances where the invulnerable person had no natural means of defense. An English officer, with more courage and humor than sense, exposed one such deception. When a man bragged in his presence about having this supernatural ability, the officer took the chance to press the point of a sword against his arm and drew blood, much to the amusement of the onlookers and the embarrassment of the pretender, who swore revenge and would have gotten it if not for measures taken to keep him away. However, one exposure of fraud isn’t enough to break a widespread superstition. These impostors are usually found among the Malays rather than the simpler country folk.
NO MISSIONARIES.
NO MISSIONARIES.
No attempts, I have reason to think, have ever been made by missionaries or others to convert the inhabitants of the island to Christianity, and I have much doubt whether the most zealous and able would meet with any permanent success in this pious work. Of the many thousands baptized in the eastern islands by the celebrated Francis Xavier in the sixteenth century not one of their descendants are now found to retain a ray of the light imparted to them; and probably, as it was novelty only and not conviction that induced the original converts to embrace a new faith, the impression lasted no longer than the sentiment which recommended it, and disappeared as rapidly as the itinerant apostle. Under the influence however of the Spanish government at Manila and of the Dutch at Batavia there are many native Christians, educated as such from children. In the Malayan language Portuguese and Christians are confounded under the same general name; the former being called orang Zerani, by corruption for Nazerani. This neglect of missions to Sumatra is one cause that the interior of the country has been so little known to the civilized world.
No efforts, I believe, have ever been made by missionaries or others to convert the island's inhabitants to Christianity, and I seriously doubt whether even the most passionate and skilled would achieve any lasting success in this noble effort. Of the thousands baptized in the eastern islands by the famous Francis Xavier in the sixteenth century, not one of their descendants is now found to retain any of the faith imparted to them; and likely, since it was merely novelty and not genuine belief that led the original converts to adopt a new faith, the impact faded as quickly as the enthusiasm that motivated it, disappearing just as swiftly as the traveling apostle. However, under the influence of the Spanish government in Manila and the Dutch in Batavia, there are many native Christians, raised as such from childhood. In the Malayan language, Portuguese and Christians are grouped under the same general term; the former being referred to as orang Zerani, which is a corrupted form of Nazerani. This lack of missionary efforts in Sumatra is one reason why the country's interior has remained so little known to the civilized world.
CHAPTER 16.
THE COUNTRY OF LAMPONG AND ITS INHABITANTS.
LANGUAGE.
GOVERNMENT.
WARS.
PECULIAR CUSTOMS.
RELIGION.
THE COUNTRY OF LAMPONG AND ITS INHABITANTS.
LANGUAGE.
GOVERNMENT.
WARS.
PECULIAR CUSTOMS.
RELIGION.
Having thus far spoken of the manners and customs of the Rejangs more especially, and adverted, as occasion served, to those of the Passummah people, who nearly resemble them, I shall now present a cursory view of those circumstances in which their southern neighbours, the inhabitants of the Lampong country, differ from them, though this dissimilitude is not very considerable; and shall add such information as I have been enabled to obtain respecting the people of Korinchi and other tribes dwelling beyond the ranges of hills which bound the pepper-districts.
Having discussed the customs and habits of the Rejang people in detail, and mentioned the similarities with the Passummah people when relevant, I will now provide a brief overview of how their southern neighbors, the people of Lampong, are different. However, these differences aren't very significant. I will also include any information I've gathered about the people of Korinchi and other tribes living beyond the hills that separate the pepper-producing regions.
LIMITS OF THE LAMPONG COUNTRY.
BOUNDARIES OF LAMPONG COUNTRY.
By the Lampong country is understood a portion of the southern extreme of the island, beginning, on the west coast, at the river of Padang-guchi, which divides it from Passummah, and extending across as far as Palembang, on the north-east side, at which last place the settlers are mostly Javans. On the south and east sides it is washed by the sea, having several ports in the Straits of Sunda, particularly Keysers and Lampong Bays; and the great river Tulang-bawang runs through the heart of it, rising from a considerable lake between the ranges of mountains. That division which is included by Padang-guchi, and a place called Nassal, is distinguished by the name of Briuran, and from thence southward to Flat Point, by that of Laut-Kawur; although Kawur, properly so called, lies in the northern division.
By Lampong country, we mean a part of the southern tip of the island, starting on the west coast at the Padang-guchi River, which separates it from Passummah, and extending as far as Palembang on the northeast side, where most of the settlers are Javanese. To the south and east, it is bordered by the ocean, featuring several ports in the Straits of Sunda, especially Keysers and Lampong Bays. The major river, Tulang-bawang, flows through the center of this area, originating from a significant lake located between the mountain ranges. The area that stretches from Padang-guchi to a place called Nassal is known as Briuran, and from there southward to Flat Point, it’s referred to as Laut-Kawur, although the area called Kawur is technically in the northern part.
TULANG BAWANG RIVER.
Tulang Bawang River.
Upon the Tulang-bawang, at a place called Mangala, thirty-six leagues from its mouth, the Dutch have a fortified post. There also the representative of the king of Bantam, who claims the dominion of the whole country of Lampong, has his residence, the river Masusi, which runs into the former, being the boundary of his territories and those of the sultan of Palembang. In the neighbourhood of these rivers the land is so low as to be overflowed in the rainy season, or months of January and February, when the waters have been known to rise many feet in the course of a few hours, the villages, situated on the higher spots, appearing as islands. The houses of those immediately on the banks are built on piles of ironwood timber, and each has before it a floating raft for the convenience of washing. In the western parts, towards Samangka, on the contrary, the land is mountainous, and Keyser's Peak, as well as Pugong, are visible to a great distance at sea.
At Tulang-bawang, in a place called Mangala, thirty-six leagues from its mouth, the Dutch have a fortified outpost. The representative of the king of Bantam, who claims rule over the entire Lampong region, also lives there; the Masusi River, which flows into the former, serves as the boundary of his lands and those of the sultan of Palembang. In the areas around these rivers, the land is so low that it gets flooded during the rainy season, which lasts from January to February, with waters known to rise several feet in just a few hours, leaving the villages on higher ground looking like islands. The houses right on the riverbanks are built on stilts made of ironwood, and each has a floating raft in front for washing. In the western area, near Samangka, the terrain is hilly, and Keyser's Peak and Pugong can be seen from far out at sea.
INHABITANTS.
RESIDENTS.
The country is best inhabited in the central and mountainous parts, where the people live independent, and in some measure secure from the inroads of their eastern neighbours, the Javans, who, from about Palembang and the Straits, frequently attempt to molest them. It is probably within but a very few centuries that the south-west coast of this country has been the habitation of any considerable number of people; and it has been still less visited by strangers, owing to the unsheltered nature of the sea thereabouts, and want of soundings in general, which renders the navigation wild and dangerous for country vessels; and to the rivers being small and rapid, with shallow bars and almost ever a high surf. If you ask the people of these parts from whence they originally came they answer, from the hills, and point out an inland place near the great lake from whence they say their forefathers emigrated: and further than this it is impossible to trace. They of all the Sumatrans have the strongest resemblance to the Chinese, particularly in the roundness of face and constructure of the eyes. They are also the fairest people of the island, and the women are the tallest and esteemed the most handsome.
The best area of the country to live in is the central and mountainous regions, where the people are relatively independent and somewhat safe from the invasions of their eastern neighbors, the Javans, who often try to attack them from around Palembang and the Straits. It’s likely that only in the past few centuries has the southwest coast of this country been home to a significant number of people, and it has seen even fewer visitors, due to the exposed nature of the sea in that area and the lack of reliable depths, making navigation treacherous and risky for local boats. The rivers are small and fast-flowing, with shallow bars and often high waves. When you ask the locals where they originally came from, they say they came from the hills and point to an inland place near the big lake where they claim their ancestors emigrated from; beyond that, it's impossible to trace their origins. Among all the people of Sumatra, they closely resemble the Chinese, especially in their rounded faces and eye structure. They are also the fairest people on the island, and the women are the tallest and considered the most attractive.
LANGUAGE.
LANGUAGE.
Their language differs considerably, though not essentially, from that of the Rejangs, and the characters they use are peculiar to themselves, as may be observed in the specimens exhibited.
Their language is quite different, though not fundamentally, from that of the Rejangs, and the characters they use are unique to them, as can be seen in the displayed examples.
GOVERNMENT.
GOVERNMENT.
The titles of government are pangeran (from the Javans), kariyer, and kiddimong or nebihi; the latter nearly answering to dupati among the Rejangs. The district of Kroi, near Mount Pugong, is governed by five magistrates called Panggau-limo, and a sixth, superior, called by way of eminence Panggau; but their authority is said to be usurped and is often disputed. The word in common signifies a gladiator or prizefighter. The pangeran of Suko, in the hills, is computed to have four or five thousand dependants, and sometimes, on going a journey, he levies a tali, or eighth part of a dollar, on each family, which shows his authority to be more arbitrary and probably more strictly feudal than among the Rejangs, where the government is rather patriarchal. This difference has doubtless its source in the wars and invasions to which the former people are exposed.
The titles in the government include pangeran (from the Javans), kariyer, and kiddimong or nebihi; the last one is similar to dupati among the Rejangs. The Kroi district, near Mount Pugong, is overseen by five magistrates known as Panggau-limo, along with a sixth, higher-ranking magistrate referred to as Panggau. However, it is said that their authority is often challenged and usurped. The common meaning of the word refers to a gladiator or prizefighter. The pangeran of Suko, located in the hills, is estimated to have four or five thousand followers, and sometimes when he travels, he collects a tali, which is an eighth of a dollar, from each family. This shows that his power is more arbitrary and likely more strictly feudal compared to the Rejangs, where the governance is more patriarchal. This difference likely stems from the wars and invasions faced by the former group.
WARS.
CONFLICTS.
The Javanese banditti, as has been observed, often advance into the country, and commit depredations on the inhabitants, who are not, in general, a match for them. They do not make use of firearms. Beside the common weapons of the island they fight with a long lance which is carried by three men, the foremost guiding the point and covering himself and his companions with a large shield. A compact body thus armed would have been a counterpart of the Macedonian phalanx, but can prove, I should apprehend, of but little use among a people with whom war is carried on in a desultory manner, and more in the way of ambuscade than of general engagement, in which alone troops so armed could act with effect.
The Javanese bandits, as has been noted, often move into the countryside and raid the locals, who generally can't defend themselves against them. They don't use firearms. Along with the typical weapons of the island, they fight with a long spear carried by three men, with the front one guiding the point and shielding himself and his companions with a large shield. A tight formation like this would resemble the Macedonian phalanx, but I fear it would be of little use among a people who engage in war in a scattered way, more through ambushes than in formal battles, where only well-armed troops could effectively operate.
Inland of Samangka, in the Straits of Sunda, there is a district, say the Lampongs, inhabited by a ferocious people called orang Abung, who were a terror to the neighbouring country until their villages were destroyed some years ago by an expedition from the former place. Their mode of atoning for offences against their own community, or, according to a Malayan narrative in my possession, of entitling themselves to wives, was by bringing to their dusuns the heads of strangers. The account may be true, but without further authentication such stories are not to be too implicitly credited on the faith of a people who are fond of the marvellous and addicted to exaggeration. Thus they believed the inhabitants of the island Engano to be all females, who were impregnated by the wind, like the mares in Virgil's Georgics.
Inland of Samangka, in the Straits of Sunda, there's a district, according to the Lampongs, inhabited by a fierce group known as the orang Abung, who used to be a menace to the nearby region until their villages were destroyed a few years ago by an expedition from the former place. Their way of making up for wrongs in their own community, or, according to a Malayan story I have, of earning the right to have wives, was by bringing the heads of strangers to their dusuns. This account might be true, but without more proof, such tales shouldn't be taken too seriously, especially from people who love the fantastical and tend to exaggerate. For instance, they believed that all the inhabitants of the island Engano were women who got pregnant from the wind, like the mares in Virgil's Georgics.
MANNERS.
Etiquette.
The manners of the Lampongs are more free, or rather licentious, than those of any other native Sumatrans. An extraordinary liberty of intercourse is allowed between the young people of different sexes, and the loss of female chastity is not a very uncommon consequence. The offence is there however thought more lightly of, and instead of punishing the parties, as in Passummah and elsewhere, they prudently endeavour to conclude a legal match between them. But if this is not effected the lady still continues to wear the insignia of virginity, the fillet and arm-rings, and takes her place as such at festivals. It is not only on these public occasions that the young men and women have opportunities of forming arrangements, as in most other parts of the island. They frequently associate together at other times; and the former are seen gallantly reclining in the maiden's lap, whispering soft nonsense, whilst she adjusts and perfumes his hair, or does a friendly office of less delicacy to a European apprehension. At bimbangs the women often put on their dancing dress in the public hall, letting that garment which they mean to lay aside dexterously drop from under, as the other passes over the head, but sometimes, with an air of coquetry, displaying as if by chance enough to warm youthful imaginations. Both men and women anoint themselves before company when they prepare to dance; the women their necks and arms, and the men their breasts. They also paint each others faces; not, seemingly, with a view of heightening or imitating the natural charms, but merely as matter of fashion; making fantastic spots with the finger on the forehead, temples, and cheeks, of white, red, yellow, and other hues. A brass salver (tallam) covered with little china cups, containing a variety of paints, is served up for this purpose.
The customs of the Lampongs are more relaxed, or rather inappropriate, than those of any other native Sumatrans. There’s a significant amount of freedom in interactions between young men and women, and it’s not uncommon for young women to lose their virginity. However, this is generally viewed more lightly there; instead of punishing the individuals involved, as they do in places like Passummah, they wisely seek to arrange a legal marriage between them. If that doesn’t happen, the woman still wears the symbols of virginity, like the fillet and arm-rings, and maintains her status at festivals. The young men and women have chances to connect not just during public events, unlike in most other parts of the island. They often hang out together at other times; the young men can be seen comfortably resting in the young woman's lap, whispering sweet nothings while she fixes and scents his hair or does friendly gestures that might be considered improper by European standards. At bimbangs, women often change into their dance attire in public, cleverly letting their garments drop as they switch outfits, sometimes teasingly revealing enough to stir youthful desires. Both men and women apply oil on themselves in front of others before dancing; women focus on their necks and arms, while men apply it to their chests. They also paint each other's faces, not to enhance or copy natural beauty but simply as a style choice, creating quirky designs with fingers on the forehead, temples, and cheeks using white, red, yellow, and other colors. A brass salver (tallam) filled with small china cups containing various paints is offered for this purpose.
Instances have happened here, though rarely, of very disagreeable conclusions to their feasts. A party of risaus among the young fellows have been known suddenly to extinguish the lights for the purpose of robbing the girls, not of their chastity, as might be apprehended, but of the gold and silver ornaments of their persons. An outrage of this nature I imagine could only happen in Lampong, where their vicinity to Java affords the culprits easier and surer means of escape, than in the central parts of the island; and here too their companies appear to be more mixed, collected from greater distances, and not composed, as with the Rejang people, of a neighbourly assemblage of the old men and women of a few contiguous villages with their sons and daughters, for the sake of convivial mirth, of celebrating a particular domestic event, and promoting attachments and courtship amongst the young people.
Instances have occurred here, though rarely, of very unpleasant endings to their celebrations. A group of young men has been known to suddenly turn off the lights in order to rob the girls, not of their virginity, as one might fear, but of the gold and silver jewelry they wear. I imagine such an outrage could only happen in Lampong, where the proximity to Java gives the culprits easier and more certain ways to escape than in the central parts of the island; and here, too, their gatherings seem to be more diverse, drawn from greater distances, and not made up, as with the Rejang people, of a local assembly of older men and women from a few nearby villages with their children, gathering for fun, to celebrate a particular family event, and to foster connections and courtship among the young people.
PARTICULAR CUSTOMS.
SPECIFIC CUSTOMS.
In every dusun there is appointed a youth, well fitted by nature and education for the office, who acts as master of ceremonies at their public meetings, arranges the young men and women in their proper places, makes choice of their partners, and regulates all other circumstances of the assembly except the important economy of the festival part or cheer, which comes under the cognizance of one of the elders. Both parts of the entertainment are preceded by long complimentary speeches, delivered by the respective stewards, who in return are answered and complimented on their skill, liberality, and other qualities, by some of the best bred amongst the guests. Though the manner of conducting, and the appendages of these feasts, are superior in style to the rustic hospitality of some of the northern countries, yet they are esteemed to be much behind those in the goodness and mode of dressing their food. The Lampongs eat almost all kinds of flesh indiscriminately, and their guleis (curries or made dishes) are said, by connoisseurs, to have no flavour. They serve up the rice divided into portions for each person, contrary to the practice in the other countries; the tallam being covered with a handsome crimson napkin manufactured for that use. They are wont to entertain strangers with much more profusion than is met with in the rest of the island. If the guest is of any consequence they do not hesitate to kill, beside goats and fowls, a buffalo, or several, according to the period of his stay, and the number of his attendants. One man has been known to entertain a person of rank and his suite for sixteen days, during which time there were not less than a hundred dishes of rice spread each day, containing some one, some two bamboos. They have dishes here, of a species of china or earthenware, called batu benauang, brought from the eastward, remarkably heavy, and very dear, some of them being valued at forty dollars a piece. The breaking one of them is a family loss of no small importance.
In every village, there's a young person, chosen for their natural abilities and education, who serves as the master of ceremonies for public gatherings. This person organizes the young men and women, pairs them up, and oversees everything else about the event, except for the important parts of the festival and entertainment, which are handled by one of the elders. Both sections of the event start with long, flattering speeches from the stewards, who are then praised and complimented on their skills, generosity, and other qualities by some of the most well-mannered guests. While the way these feasts are run and the extras involved are fancier than the straightforward hospitality found in some northern countries, they are considered to be lacking in the quality and preparation of food. The Lampongs eat almost every type of meat without discrimination, and their curries or dishes are said by experts to lack flavor. They serve rice in individual portions for each person, which is different from practices in other regions; the rice is covered with a beautiful crimson napkin made specifically for this purpose. They tend to host guests with much more extravagance than is usual elsewhere on the island. If an important guest arrives, they won’t hesitate to kill goats and chickens, and even a buffalo or several, depending on how long the guest stays and how many companions they have. There’s a story of one man who hosted a high-ranking guest and their entourage for sixteen days, during which they laid out at least a hundred dishes of rice each day, using one or two bamboo containers per dish. They have special dishes made from a type of china or earthenware, known as batu benauang, imported from the east, which are quite heavy and very expensive, with some valued at forty dollars each. Breaking one of these dishes is considered a significant loss for a family.
RECEPTION OF STRANGERS.
WELCOME OF GUESTS.
Abundantly more ceremony is used among these people at interviews with strangers than takes place in the countries adjacent to them. Not only the chief person of a party travelling, but every one of his attendants, is obliged, upon arriving at a town, to give a formal account of their business, or occasion of coming that way. When the principal man of the dusun is acquainted by the stranger with the motives of his journey he repeats his speech at full length before he gives an answer; and if it is a person of great consequence, the words must pass through two or three mouths before they are supposed to come with sufficient ceremony to his ears. This in fact has more the air of adding to his own importance and dignity than to that of the guest; but it is not in Sumatra alone that respect is manifested by this seeming contradiction.
There is a lot more formality among these people when meeting strangers compared to the nearby countries. Not just the leader of a traveling group, but everyone accompanying him, must provide a formal explanation of their business or reason for visiting a town upon arrival. When the local leader hears from the stranger about the reasons for the visit, he repeats the stranger’s message in full before responding; and if the visitor is someone important, the message has to be relayed through two or three people before it is considered polite enough to reach him. This process seems to elevate the importance and dignity of the host more than that of the guest; however, this way of showing respect through such apparent contradiction is not unique to Sumatra.
The terms of the jujur, or equivalent for wives, is the same here, nearly, as with the Rejangs. The kris-head is not essential to the bargain, as among the people of Passummah. The father of the girl never admits of the putus tali kulo, or whole sum being paid, and thereby withholds from the husband, in any case, the right of selling his wife, who, in the event of a divorce, returns to her relations. Where the putus tali is allowed to take place, he has a property in her, little differing from that of a slave, as formerly observed. The particular sums which constitute the jujur are less complex here than at other places. The value of the maiden's golden trinkets is nicely estimated, and her jujur regulated according to that and the rank of her parents. The semando marriage scarcely ever takes place but among poor people, where there is no property on either side, or in the case of a slip in the conduct of the female, when the friends are glad to make up a match in this way instead of demanding a price for her. Instances have occurred however of countrymen of rank affecting a semando marriage in order to imitate the Malayan manners; but it has been looked upon as improper and liable to create confusion.
The terms for the jujur, or the equivalent for wives, are almost the same here as they are with the Rejangs. The kris-head isn’t necessary for the deal, unlike among the people of Passummah. The girl's father never agrees to the putus tali kulo, or the full amount being paid, which means he prevents the husband from having the right to sell his wife. In the case of a divorce, she goes back to her family. Where the putus tali is allowed, the husband has a claim on her that is not much different from that of a slave, as mentioned earlier. The specific amounts that make up the jujur are simpler here than in other places. The value of the young woman's gold jewelry is carefully assessed, and her jujur is set based on that and her parents' social standing. Semando marriage happens mostly among poorer people, where neither side has any property, or if a woman has a slip in her behavior, and friends are happy to arrange a match this way instead of demanding a price for her. There have been cases of higher-ranking countrymen opting for a semando marriage to mimic Malay customs, but it has been viewed as inappropriate and likely to cause confusion.
The fines and compensation for murder are in every respect the same as in the countries already described.
The penalties and compensation for murder are just like those in the countries mentioned earlier.
RELIGION.
SPIRITUALITY.
The Mahometan religion has made considerable progress amongst the Lampongs, and most of their villages have mosques in them: yet an attachment to the original superstitions of the country induces them to regard with particular veneration the ancient burying-places of their fathers, which they piously adorn and cover in from the weather.
The Muslim religion has made significant progress among the Lampongs, and most of their villages have mosques in them. However, their connection to the original superstitions of the country leads them to hold the ancient burial sites of their ancestors in special reverence, which they carefully decorate and protect from the elements.
SUPERSTITIOUS OPINIONS.
Superstitious beliefs.
In some parts, likewise, they superstitiously believe that certain trees, particularly those of a venerable appearance (as an old jawi-jawi or banyan tree) are the residence, or rather the material frame of spirits of the woods; an opinion which exactly answers to the idea entertained by the ancients of the dryads and hamadryads. At Benkunat in the Lampong country there is a long stone, standing on a flat one, supposed by the people to possess extraordinary power or virtue. It is reported to have been once thrown down into the water and to have raised itself again to its original position, agitating the elements at the same time with a prodigious storm. To approach it without respect they believe to be the source of misfortune to the offender.
In some areas, they also believe superstitiously that certain trees, especially those that look ancient (like an old jawi-jawi or banyan tree), are home to the spirits of the woods; this belief is similar to what the ancients thought about dryads and hamadryads. In Benkunat, located in the Lampong region, there is a long stone resting on a flat one, which the locals think has special powers or virtues. It's said to have been thrown into the water once, only to rise back to its original spot, creating a massive storm in the process. They believe that approaching it without respect brings misfortune to anyone who does.
The inland people of that country are said to pay a kind of adoration to the sea, and to make to it an offering of cakes and sweetmeats on their beholding it for the first time, deprecating its power of doing them mischief. This is by no means surprising when we consider the natural proneness of unenlightened mankind to regard with superstitious awe whatever has the power of injuring them without control, and particularly when it is attended with any circumstances mysterious and inexplicable to their understandings. The sea possesses all these qualities. Its destructive and irresistible power is often felt, and especially on the coasts of India where tremendous surfs are constantly breaking on the shore, rising often to their greatest degree of violence without any apparent external cause. Add to this the flux and reflux and perpetual ordinary motion of that element, wonderful even to philosophers who are acquainted with the cause, unaccountable to ignorant men, though long accustomed to the effects; but to those who only once or twice in their lives have been eyewitnesses to the phenomena, supernatural and divine. It must not however be understood that anything like a regular worship is paid to the sea by these people, any more than we should conclude that people in England worship witches when they nail a horseshoe on the threshold to prevent their approach, or break the bottoms of eggshells to hinder them from sailing in them. It is with the inhabitants of Lampong no more than a temporary sentiment of fear and respect, which a little familiarity soon effaces. Many of them indeed imagine it endowed with a principle of voluntary motion. They tell a story of an ignorant fellow who, observing with astonishment its continual agitation, carried a vessel of sea water with him, on his return to the country, and poured it into a lake, in full expectation of seeing it perform the same fanciful motions he had admired it for in its native bed.*
The inland people of that country are said to have a sort of reverence for the sea, offering cakes and sweets when they see it for the first time, while also fearing its potential to harm them. This isn't surprising when we think about how uninformed people tend to deal with anything that can hurt them unpredictably, especially when it involves mysterious aspects that they don't understand. The sea has all these traits. Its powerful and destructive forces are often witnessed, particularly along the coasts of India where massive waves constantly crash onto the shore, sometimes reaching extreme violence without any clear reason. On top of that, the ebb and flow and constant movement of the sea are astonishing even to knowledgeable philosophers, while they remain puzzling to the uneducated, despite their experience with the results. But for those who have only seen these events once or twice in their lives, it seems supernatural and divine. However, it shouldn't be understood that these people regularly worship the sea, just as we wouldn't assume that people in England worship witches when they hang a horseshoe on their door to keep them away or break the bottoms of eggshells to prevent them from sailing off. For the residents of Lampong, it's merely a temporary feeling of fear and respect, quickly worn away by familiarity. Many of them even believe it has a will of its own. They tell a story about a clueless man who, amazed by its constant movement, took a container of seawater back home and poured it into a lake, fully expecting it to replicate the enchanting motions he had admired in its natural setting.
(*Footnote. The manners of the natives of the Philippine or Luzon Islands correspond in so many striking particulars with those of the inland Sumatrans, and especially where they differ most from the Malays, that I think no doubt can be entertained, if not of a sameness of origin, at least of an intercourse and connection in former times which now no longer exists. The following instances are taken from an essay preserved by Thevenot, entitled Relation des Philippines par un religieux; traduite d'un manuscrit Espagnol du cabinet de Monsieur Dom. Carlo del Pezzo (without date), and from a manuscript communicated to me by Alex Dalrymple, Esquire. "The chief Deity of the Tagalas is called Bathala mei Capal, and also Diuata; and their principal idolatry consists in adoring those of their ancestors who signalised themselves for courage or abilities, calling them Humalagar, i.e. manes: They make slaves of the people who do not keep silence at the tombs of their ancestors. They have great veneration for the crocodile, which they call nono, signifying grandfather, and make offerings to it. Every old tree they look upon as a superior being, and think it a crime to cut it down. They worship also stones, rocks, and points of land, shooting arrows at these last as they pass them. They have priests who, at their sacrifices, make many contortions and grimaces, as if possessed with a devil. The first man and woman, they say, were produced from a bamboo, which burst in the island of Sumatra; and they quarrelled about their marriage. The people mark their bodies in various figures, and render them of the colour of ashes, have large holes in their ears, blacken and file their teeth, and make an opening which they fill up with gold, they used to write from top to bottom till the Spaniards taught them to write from left to right, bamboos and palm leaves serve them for paper. They cover their houses with straw, leaves of trees, or bamboos split in two which serve for tiles. They hire people to sing and weep at their funerals, burn benzoin, bury their dead on the third day in strong coffins, and sometimes kill slaves to accompany their deceased masters.")
(*Footnote. The customs of the people from the Philippine or Luzon Islands share many noticeable similarities with those of the inland Sumatrans, especially in areas where they significantly differ from the Malays. This suggests that there might be a shared origin or at least some historical interaction and connection that no longer exists. The following examples come from an essay kept by Thevenot, titled Relation des Philippines par un religieux; translated from a Spanish manuscript from the collection of Mr. Dom. Carlo del Pezzo (date not provided), and from a manuscript shared with me by Alex Dalrymple, Esquire. "The main deity of the Tagalas is named Bathala mei Capal, also known as Diuata; their primary form of idol worship involves honoring those ancestors who distinguished themselves through bravery or talents, referring to them as Humalagar, meaning spirits. They enslave those who do not remain silent at the graves of their ancestors. They hold the crocodile, which they call nono, meaning grandfather, in high regard and make offerings to it. They view every old tree as a being of higher existence and consider it a crime to cut one down. They also worship stones, rocks, and specific land areas, shooting arrows at the latter as they pass by. Their priests perform many contortions and grimaces during sacrifices, appearing as if they are possessed. According to them, the first man and woman came from a bamboo that split open on the island of Sumatra, and they argued about their marriage. The people decorate their bodies with various designs, color them ash-like, have large ear piercings, blacken and file their teeth, and create holes that they fill with gold. They used to write vertically until the Spaniards taught them to write horizontally; they used bamboos and palm leaves as paper. They cover their homes with straw, tree leaves, or split bamboos used as tiles. They hire people to sing and mourn at funerals, burn benzoin, bury their dead on the third day in sturdy coffins, and sometimes sacrifice slaves to accompany their deceased masters.")
The latter account is more particular, and appears of modern date.
The latter account is more detailed and seems to be of recent origin.
They held the caiman, or alligator, in great reverence, and when they saw him they called him nono, or grandfather, praying with great tenderness that he would do them no harm, and to this end, offered him of whatever they had in their boats, throwing it into the water. There was not an old tree to which they did not offer divine worship, especially that called balete; and even at this time they have some respect for them. Beside these they had certain idols inherited from their ancestors, which the Tagalas called Anita, and the Bisayans, Divata. Some of these were for the mountains and plains, and they asked their leave when they would pass them: others for the corn fields, and to these they recommend them, that they might be fertile, placing meat and drink in the fields for the use of the Anitos. There was one, of the sea, who had care of their fishing and navigation; another of the house, whose favour they implored at the birth of a child, and under whose protection they placed it. They made Anitos also of their deceased ancestors, and to these were their first invocations in all difficulties and dangers. They reckoned amongst these beings, all those who were killed by lightning or alligators, or had any disastrous death, and believed that they were carried up to the happy state, by the rainbow, which they call Balan-gao. In general they endeavoured to attribute this kind of divinity to their fathers, when they died in years, and the old men, vain with this barbarous notion, affected in their sickness a gravity and composure of mind, as they conceived, more than human, because they thought themselves commencing Anitos. They were to be interred at places marked out by themselves, that they might be discovered at a distance and worshipped. The missionaries have had great trouble in demolishing their tombs and idols; but the Indians, inland, still continue the custom of pasing tabi sa nano, or asking permission of their dead ancestors, when they enter any wood, mountain, or corn field, for hunting or sowing; and if they omit this ceremony imagine their nonos will punish them with bad fortune.
They held the caiman, or alligator, in high regard, and when they saw him, they referred to him as nono, or grandfather, praying earnestly that he would not harm them. To ensure this, they offered him whatever they had in their boats, tossing it into the water. There wasn’t a single old tree they didn’t honor, especially one called balete; and even today, they still have some respect for them. Besides this, they had certain idols passed down from their ancestors, which the Tagalas called Anita, and the Bisayans called Divata. Some of these were for the mountains and fields, and they asked for permission to pass by them; others were for the cornfields, and they entrusted these to ensure fertility, placing food and drink in the fields for the Anitos. There was one deity of the sea, responsible for their fishing and navigation; another for the home, whose favor they sought at the birth of a child, placing the child under its protection. They also made Anitos of their deceased ancestors, and these were the first beings they invoked in times of trouble and danger. They considered anyone killed by lightning or alligators, or who had met a tragic end, as part of this group, believing they ascended to happiness via the rainbow, which they called Balan-gao. Generally, they assigned divinity to their fathers who died of old age, and the elderly, caught up in this belief, put on a solemn demeanor during their illnesses, thinking they were becoming Anitos. They were to be buried in places of their choosing, so they could be easily found and worshipped. The missionaries have struggled to dismantle their tombs and idols; however, the inland Indians still maintain the practice of passing tabi sa nano, or seeking permission from their deceased ancestors when they enter any woods, mountains, or cornfields for hunting or planting; if they skip this ceremony, they believe their nonos will punish them with misfortune.
Their notions of the creation of the world, and formation of mankind, had something ridiculously extravagant. They believed that the world at first consisted only of sky and water, and between these two, a glede; which, weary with flying about, and finding no place to rest, set the water at variance with the sky, which, in order to keep it in bounds, and that it should not get uppermost, loaded the water with a number of islands, in which the glede might settle and leave them at peace. Mankind, they said, sprang out of a large cane with two joints, that, floating about in the water, was at length thrown by the waves against the feet of the glede, as it stood on shore, which opened it with its bill, and the man came out of one joint, and the woman out of the other. These were soon after married by consent of their God, Batkala Meycapal, which caused the first trembling of the earth; and from thence are descended the different nations of the world."
Their ideas about the creation of the world and the formation of humanity were somewhat absurdly extravagant. They believed that originally, the world was just sky and water, with a bird called a glede flying around. Tired of searching for a place to rest, the glede created a conflict between the water and the sky. To control the water and prevent it from rising too high, the sky filled it with islands, providing a place for the glede to land and leave things peaceful. They said that humanity emerged from a large cane with two joints, which floated in the water until the waves eventually pushed it against the feet of the glede standing on shore. The glede then opened the cane with its beak, and a man came out of one joint while a woman came out of the other. Shortly after, their God, Batkala Meycapal, consented to their marriage, which caused the earth to tremble for the first time; from this, all the different nations of the world were born.
CHAPTER 17.
ACCOUNT OF THE INLAND COUNTRY OF KORINCHI.
EXPEDITION TO THE SERAMPEI AND SUNGEI-TENANG COUNTRIES.
ACCOUNT OF THE INLAND COUNTRY OF KORINCHI.
EXPEDITION TO THE SERAMPEI AND SUNGEI-TENANG COUNTRIES.
COUNTRY OF KORINCHI.
Korinchi Country.
At the back of the range of high mountains by which the countries of Indrapura and Anak-sungei are bounded lies the district or valley of Korinchi, which, from its secluded situation, has hitherto been little known to Europeans. In the year 1800 Mr. Charles Campbell, whose name I have had frequent occasion to mention, was led to visit this spot, in the laudable pursuit of objects for the improvement of natural history, and from his correspondence I shall extract such parts as I have reason to hope will be gratifying to the reader.
At the back of the high mountain range that borders the countries of Indrapura and Anak-sungei lies the district or valley of Korinchi, which, due to its isolated location, has remained largely unknown to Europeans. In 1800, Mr. Charles Campbell, whose name I've mentioned often, decided to visit this area in his commendable quest to improve natural history. From his correspondence, I will share parts that I believe will be enjoyable for the reader.
MR. CAMPBELL'S JOURNEY.
Mr. Campbell's Journey.
Says this indefatigable traveller:
Says this tireless traveler:
The country of Korinchi first occupied my attention. From the sea-coast at Moco-moco to the foot of the mountains cost us three days' weary journey, and although our path was devious I cannot estimate the distance at less than thirty miles, for it was late on the fourth day when we began to ascend. Your conjecture that the ridge is broader betwixt the plains of Anak-sungei and valley of Korinchi than that which we see from Bencoolen is just. Our route in general lay north-east until we attained the summit of the first high range, from which elevated situation, through an opening in the wood, the Pagi or Nassau Islands were clearly visible. During the next day our course along the ridge of hills was a little to the northward of northwest, and for the two following days almost due north, through as noble a forest as was ever penetrated by man. On the evening of the last we descended by a steep and seemingly short path from the summit of the second range (for there are obviously two) into the Korinchi country.
The country of Korinchi first caught my attention. It took us three exhausting days to travel from the coastline at Moco-moco to the foot of the mountains, and even though our route was winding, I would estimate the distance to be no less than thirty miles, since it was late on the fourth day when we started to climb. Your guess that the ridge is wider between the plains of Anak-sungei and the valley of Korinchi than what we see from Bencoolen is correct. Our general path went northeast until we reached the top of the first high range, from where, through a gap in the trees, the Pagi or Nassau Islands were clearly visible. The next day, we traveled along the ridge of hills slightly north of northwest, and for the following two days, we headed almost due north, through a magnificent forest that few have ever entered. On the evening of the last day, we descended a steep and seemingly short path from the summit of the second range (as there are clearly two) into the Korinchi area.
SITUATION OF LAKE.
STATE OF THE LAKE.
This descent did not occupy us more than twenty minutes, so that the valley must lie at a great height above the level of the sea; but it was yet a few days march to the inhabited and cultivated land on the border of the great lake, which I conjecture to be situated directly behind Indrapura, or north-east from the mouth of that river. There are two lakes, but one of them is inconsiderable. I sailed for some time on the former, which may be nearly as broad as the strait between Bencoolen and Rat Island. My companions estimated it at seven miles; but the eye is liable to much deception, and, having seen nothing for many days but rivulets, the grandeur of the sheet of water, when it first burst upon our sight, perhaps induced us to form too high a notion of its extent. Its banks were studded with villages; it abounds with fish, particularly the summah, a species of cyprinus; its waters are clear and beautiful from the reflection of the black and shining sand which covers the bottom in many places to the depth of eight or ten inches.
This descent took us no more than twenty minutes, which suggests that the valley is quite high above sea level; however, it was still a few days' journey to the populated and cultivated land along the edge of the large lake, which I believe is located directly behind Indrapura, or northeast of where that river flows into the sea. There are two lakes, but one of them is quite small. I spent some time sailing on the larger one, which might be about as wide as the strait between Bencoolen and Rat Island. My companions guessed it to be seven miles across; but our perception can easily be misleading, and after having seen nothing but small streams for many days, the impressive sight of the lake may have led us to overestimate its size. Its shores were dotted with villages, and it's full of fish, especially a type called summah, which is a kind of carp. The waters are clear and beautiful, reflecting the black and shiny sand that covers the bottom in many areas to a depth of eight to ten inches.
INHABITANTS.
Residents.
The inhabitants are below the common stature of the Malays, with harder visages and higher cheekbones, well knit in their limbs, and active; not deficient in hospitality, but jealous of strangers. The women, excepting a few of the daughters of the chiefs, were in general illfavoured, and even savage in their aspect. At the village of In-juan on the borders of the lake I saw some of them with rings of copper and shells among their hair; they wore destars round their heads like the men, and almost all of them had siwars or small daggers at their sides. They were not shut up or concealed from us, but mixed with our party, on the contrary, with much frankness.
The locals are shorter than the typical Malays, with tougher features and higher cheekbones. They are well-built and active, not lacking in hospitality, but somewhat protective of outsiders. The women, apart from a few daughters of chiefs, generally didn't have attractive appearances and looked quite fierce. At the village of In-juan by the lake, I noticed some of them had copper rings and shells woven into their hair. They wore head wraps like the men, and almost all had siwars or small daggers at their sides. They weren't hidden from us; on the contrary, they mixed with our group quite openly.
BUILDINGS.
Buildings.
The people dwell in hordes, many families being crowded together in one long building. That in which I lived gave shelter to twenty-five families. The front was one long undivided verandah, where the unmarried men slept; the back part was partitioned into small cabins, each of which had a round hole with a door to fit it, and through this the female inmates crept backwards and forwards in the most awkward manner and ridiculous posture. This house was in length two hundred and thirty feet, and elevated from the ground. Those belonging to the chiefs were smaller, well constructed of timber and plank, and covered with shingles or thin plates of board bound on with rattans, about the size and having much the appearance of our slates.
The people live in large groups, with many families packed into one long building. The one I lived in housed twenty-five families. The front had a long open porch where the single men slept; the back was divided into small rooms, each with a round hole that had a door fitting it, through which the women awkwardly shuffled back and forth in a funny way. This house was two hundred and thirty feet long and raised off the ground. The houses belonging to the chiefs were smaller, well-built from wood and planks, and covered with shingles or thin boards fastened with vines, about the size and looking a lot like our slates.
DRESSES.
Dresses.
The dresses of the young women of rank were pretty enough. A large blue turband, woven with silver chains, which, meeting behind and crossing, were fastened to the earrings in festoons, decorated their heads. In this was placed a large plume of cock's feathers, bending forward over the face. The jacket was blue, of a silky texture, their own work, and bordered with small gold chain. The body-dress, likewise of their own weaving, was of cotton mingled with silk, richly striped and mixed with gold thread; but they wear it no lower than the knees. The youths of fashion were in a kind of harlequin habit, the forepart of the trousers white, the back-part blue; their jacket after the same fashion. They delighted much in an instrument made from some part of the iju palm-tree, which resembled and produced a sound like the jews-harp.
The dresses of the young women of nobility were quite lovely. They wore large blue turbans, woven with silver chains that crossed at the back and were attached to their earrings in decorative loops. A big plume of rooster feathers leaned forward over their faces. The jackets were blue, made from a silky fabric that they crafted themselves, with borders of small gold chains. The dresses, which they also wove, were made of cotton blended with silk, richly striped and mixed with gold thread, but they wore them no lower than their knees. The fashionable young men wore a type of harlequin outfit, with the front of their trousers in white and the back in blue; their jackets followed the same style. They especially enjoyed playing an instrument made from a part of the iju palm-tree, which looked like and sounded similar to a jews-harp.
COOKERY.
Cooking.
Their domestic economy (I speak of the houses of the chiefs) seemed better regulated than it generally is in these countries; they seemed tolerably advanced in the art of cookery, and had much variety of food; such as the flesh of deer, which they take in rattan snares, wild ducks, abounding on the lake; green pigeons, quails innumerable; and a variety of fish beside the summah already mentioned, and the ikan gadis, a species of carp which attains to a greater size here than in the rivers.
Their home economy (I’m talking about the chiefs' houses) appeared to be better organized than it usually is in these areas; they seemed reasonably skilled in cooking and had a good variety of food, like deer meat, which they catch in rattan traps, wild ducks that are plentiful on the lake, green pigeons, countless quails, and various fish besides the summah already mentioned, as well as ikan gadis, a type of carp that grows larger here than in the rivers.
ESCULENT VEGETABLES.
Edible vegetables.
The potato, which was introduced there many years ago, is now a common article of food, and cultivated with some attention. Their plantations supply many esculent herbs, fruits, and roots; but the coconut, although reared as a curiosity, is abortive in these inland regions, and its place is supplied by the buah kras (Juglans camirium), of which they also make their torches. Excellent tobacco is grown there, also cotton and indigo, the small leafed kind. They get some silk from Palembang, and rear a little themselves. The communication is more frequent with the north-west shore than with the eastern, and of late, since the English have been settled at Pulo Chinco, they prefer going there for opium to the more tedious (though less distant) journey by which they formerly sought it at Moco-moco.
The potato, which was introduced there many years ago, is now a common food item and is cultivated attentively. Their farms produce many edible herbs, fruits, and roots; however, the coconut, although grown as a novelty, doesn't thrive in these inland areas, and they use the buah kras (Juglans camirium) instead to make their torches. They also grow excellent tobacco, as well as cotton and small-leaf indigo. They get some silk from Palembang and produce a little themselves. Communication is more frequent with the northwest coast than with the eastern side, and lately, since the English have settled at Pulo Chinco, they prefer to go there for opium rather than making the longer (though less far) journey they used to take to Moco-moco.
GOLD.
Gold.
In their cockpits the gold-scales are frequent, and I have seen considerable quantities weighed out by the losers. This metal, I am informed, they get in their own country, although they studiously evaded all inquiries on the subject.
In their cockpits, gold scales are common, and I've seen a lot of it weighed out by the losers. I've been told that they get this metal in their own country, but they were careful to dodge any questions about it.
GUNPOWDER.
GUNPOWDER.
They make gunpowder, and it is a common sport among the young boys to fire it out of bamboos. In order to increase its strength, in their opinion, they mingle it with pepper-dust.
They make gunpowder, and it's a popular activity among the young boys to shoot it out of bamboo tubes. To make it stronger, they believe it helps to mix it with pepper dust.
LEPERS.
People with leprosy.
In a small recess on the margin of the lake, overhung with very rugged cliffs and accessible only by water, I saw one of those receptacles of misery to which the leprous and others afflicted with diseases supposed to be contagious are banished. I landed much against the remonstrances of my conductors, who would not quit the boat. There were in all seven of these unfortunate people basking on the beach and warming the wretched remains of their bodies in the sun. They were fed at stated periods by the joint contribution of the neighbouring villages, and I was given to understand that any attempt to quit this horrid exile was punished with death.
In a small nook by the lake, surrounded by steep cliffs and reachable only by water, I found one of those places of despair where people with leprosy and other contagious diseases are sent away. I got off the boat despite my guides insisting I stay on board. There were seven of these unfortunate individuals laying on the beach, trying to warm their frail bodies in the sun. They were fed at regular intervals by the combined efforts of the nearby villages, and I learned that anyone who tried to escape this terrible isolation faced death.
PECULIAR PLANTS.
Strange Plants.
I had little time for botanizing; but I found there many plants unknown to the lowlands. Among them were a species of prune, the water-hemlock, and the strawberry. This last was like that species which grows in our woods; but it was insipid. I brought the roots with me to Fort Marlborough, where it lingered a year or two after fruiting and gradually died.* I found there also a beautiful kind of the Hedychium coronarium, now ranked among the kaempferias. It was of a pale orange, and had a most grateful odour. The girls wear it in their hair, and its beautiful head of lily flowers is used in the silent language of love, to the practice of which, during your stay here, I suppose you were no stranger, and which indicates a delicacy of sentiment one would scarcely expect to find in the character of so rude a people.
I didn't have much time for studying plants, but I discovered many that were unfamiliar to those of the lowlands. Among them were a type of plum, water-hemlock, and strawberries. The strawberries resembled the ones that grow in our woods, but they were tasteless. I took the roots with me to Fort Marlborough, where they survived for a year or two after fruiting before gradually dying off.* I also found a beautiful variety of Hedychium coronarium, now classified among the kaempferias. It had a pale orange color and a delightful scent. The girls wear it in their hair, and its lovely cluster of lily flowers is used in the silent language of love, a practice I assume you were familiar with during your time here, which shows a sensitivity that you'd hardly expect from such a rough people.
(*Footnote. This plant has fruited also in England, but doubts are entertained of its being really a fragaria, By Dr. Smith it is termed a potentilla.)
(*Footnote. This plant has also produced fruit in England, but there are doubts about whether it is truly a fragaria. Dr. Smith refers to it as a potentilla.)
CHARACTER OF PEOPLE.
PEOPLE'S CHARACTERS.
Although the chiefs received us with hospitality yet the mass of people considered our intentions as hostile, and seemed jealous of our intrusion. Of their women however they were not at all jealous, and the familiarity of these was unrestrained. They entertained us with dances after their fashion, and made some rude attempts at performing a sort of pantomime. I may now close this detail with observing that the natives of this mountainous region have stronger animal spirits than those of the plains, and pass their lives with more variety than the torpid inhabitants of the coast; that they breathe a spirit of independence, and being frequently engaged in warfare, village against village, they would be better prepared to resist any invasion of their liberties.
Although the chiefs welcomed us warmly, the majority of the people viewed our presence as a threat and seemed resentful of our intrusion. However, they didn't show any jealousy towards their women, who interacted with us freely. They entertained us with dances in their style and made some crude attempts at a kind of pantomime. I can conclude this account by noting that the people in this mountainous area have more energy than those in the plains and lead more varied lives than the laid-back inhabitants of the coast. They embody a sense of independence, and since they often engage in conflicts between villages, they would be better equipped to defend their freedoms against any invasion.
SUSPICIONS.
SUSPECTS.
They took great offence at a large package carried by six men which contained our necessaries, insisting that within it we had concealed a priuk api, for so they call a mortar or howitzer, one of which had been used with success against a village on the borders of their country during the rebellion of the son of the sultan of Moco-moco; and even when satisfied respecting this they manifested so much suspicion that we found it necessary to be constantly on our guard, and were once nearly provoked by their petulance and treachery to proceed to violence. When they found our determination they seemed humble, but were not even then to be trusted; and when we were on our return a friendly chief sent us intelligence that an ambuscade had been laid for us in one of the narrow passes of the mountains. We pursued our journey however without meeting any obstruction.
They were really offended by a large package carried by six men that contained our supplies, insisting that we had hidden a priuk api inside it, which is what they call a mortar or howitzer. One of those had been used successfully against a village near their territory during the rebellion of the son of the sultan of Moco-moco. Even after they were convinced this wasn't the case, they remained so suspicious that we had to stay constantly on guard, and at one point we were almost pushed into reacting violently because of their irritability and deceit. When they realized we were determined, they acted humble, but even then, we couldn't trust them. On our way back, a friendly chief warned us that an ambush had been set for us in one of the narrow mountain passes. We continued our journey, though, without facing any obstacles.
On the subject of gold I have only to add to Mr. Campbell's information that, in the enumeration by the natives of places where there are gold-mines, Karinchi is always included.
On the topic of gold, I just want to add to Mr. Campbell's information that when the locals list places with gold mines, Karinchi is always mentioned.
EXPEDITION TO INTERIOR COUNTRY.
Trip to the interior.
Opportunities of visiting the interior parts of the island have so seldom occurred, or are likely to occur, that I do not hesitate to present to the reader an abstract of the Journal kept by Lieutenant Hastings Dare (now a captain on the Bengal establishment) whilst commanding an expedition to the countries of Ipu, Serampei, and Sungei-tenang, which border to the south-east on that of Korinchi above described; making at the same time my acknowledgments to that gentleman for his obliging communication of the original, and my apologies for the brevity to which my subject renders it necessary to confine the narrative.
Opportunities to visit the inner parts of the island have been so rare, or are unlikely to happen, that I feel it’s worthwhile to share a summary of the Journal kept by Lieutenant Hastings Dare (now a captain in the Bengal establishment) while he led an expedition to the regions of Ipu, Serampei, and Sungei-tenang, which are located to the southeast of the aforementioned Korinchi. I would like to express my gratitude to him for sharing the original journal and apologize for the brevity that my subject requires in this narrative.
ORIGIN OF DISTURBANCES.
SOURCE OF DISRUPTIONS.
Sultan Asing, brother to the present sultan of Moco-moco, in conjunction with Pa Muncha and Sultan Sidi, two hill-chiefs his relations, residing at Pakalang-jambu and Jambi, raised a small force with which, in the latter part of the year 1804, they made a descent on Ipu, one of the Company's districts, burnt several villages and carried off a number of the inhabitants. The guard of native Malay troops not being sufficiently strong to check these depredations, a party was ordered from Fort Marlborough under the command of Lieutenant Hastings Dare, consisting of eighty-three sepoy officers and men, with five lascars, twentytwo Bengal convicts, and eighteen of the Bugis-guard; in the whole one hundred and twenty-eight.
Sultan Asing, brother of the current sultan of Moco-moco, along with Pa Muncha and Sultan Sidi, two related hill chiefs living in Pakalang-jambu and Jambi, gathered a small force in late 1804. They launched an attack on Ipu, one of the Company's districts, burned several villages, and took away a number of residents. The local Malay troops were not strong enough to stop these raids, so a team was sent from Fort Marlborough, led by Lieutenant Hastings Dare. This group included eighty-three sepoy officers and soldiers, five lascars, twenty-two Bengal convicts, and eighteen members of the Bugis guard; totaling one hundred and twenty-eight people.
November 22 1804. Marched from Fort Marlborough, and December 3 arrived at Ipu. The roads extremely bad from the torrents of rain that fell. 4th. Mr. Hawthorne, the Resident, informed us that the enemy had fortified themselves at a place called Tabe-si-kuddi, but, on hearing of the approach of the detachment, had gone off to the hills in the Sungeitenang country and fortified themselves at Koto Tuggoh, a village that had been a receptacle for all the vagabonds from the districts near the coast. 13th. Having procured coolies and provisions, for which we have been hitherto detained, quitted Ipu in an east-north-east direction, and passed through several pepper and rice plantations. At dusun Baru one of our people caught a fine large fish, called ikan gadis. 14th. Marched in a south-east direction; crossed several rivulets, and reached again the banks of Ipu river, which we crossed. It was about four feet deep and very rapid. Passed the night at dusun Arah. The country rather hilly; thermometer 88 degrees at noon. 15th. Reached dusun Tanjong, the last place in the Ipu district where rice or any other provision is to be found, and these were sent on from Talang Puttei, this place being deserted by its inhabitants, several of whom the enemy had carried off with them as slaves. The country very hilly, and roads, in consequence of the heavy rains, bad and slippery. 16th. Marched in a north and east direction.
November 22, 1804. We marched from Fort Marlborough and arrived at Ipu on December 3. The roads were very bad due to the heavy rain. On the 4th, Mr. Hawthorne, the Resident, told us that the enemy had fortified themselves at a place called Tabe-si-kuddi, but upon hearing about our approaching detachment, they retreated to the hills in the Sungeitenang area and set up defenses at Koto Tuggoh, a village known for being a hideout for outcasts from the nearby coastal districts. On the 13th, after arranging for coolies and provisions that had delayed us, we left Ipu heading east-north-east and went through several pepper and rice plantations. At dusun Baru, one of our men caught a large fish called ikan gadis. On the 14th, we continued southeast, crossed several small streams, and reached the banks of the Ipu River, which we crossed. It was about four feet deep and very fast-flowing. We spent the night at dusun Arah. The landscape was rather hilly, and the thermometer read 88 degrees at noon. On the 15th, we arrived at dusun Tanjong, the last place in the Ipu district where we could find rice or any other supplies. These had been sent from Talang Puttei, as this place had been abandoned by its inhabitants, several of whom had been taken by the enemy as slaves. The terrain was very hilly, and the roads were bad and slippery because of the heavy rains. On the 16th, we marched northeast.
HOT SPRINGS.
Hot Springs.
After crossing the Ayer Ikan stream twice we arrived at some hot springs, about three or four miles in the winding course we were obliged to take from dusun Tanjong, situated in a low swampy spot, about sixty yards in circumference. This is very hot in every part of it, excepting (which is very extraordinary) one place on its eastern side, where, although a hot spring is bubbling up within one yard of it, the water running from it is as cold as common spring water. In consequence of the excessive heat of the place and softness of the ground none of us could get close to the springs; but upon putting the thermometer within three yards of them it immediately rose to 120 degrees of Fahrenheit. We could not bear our fingers any time in the water. It tasted copperish and bitter; there was a strong sulphurous smell at the place, and a green sediment at the bottom and sides of the spring, with a reddish or copper-coloured scum floating on the surface. After again crossing the Ikan stream we arrived at dusun Simpang. The enemy had been here, and had burned nearly half of the village and carried off the inhabitants. The road from Tanjong to Simpang was entirely through a succession of pepper-gardens and rice plantations. We are now among the hills. Country in a higher state of cultivation than near the coast, but nearly deserted, and must soon become a waste. Could not get intelligence of the enemy. Built huts on Ayer Ikan at Napah Kapah. 17th. Marched in a south direction and crossed Ayer Tubbu, passing a number of durian trees on its bank. Again crossed the stream several times. Arrived early at Tabe-si-kuddi, a small talang, where the enemy had built three batteries or entrenchments and left behind them a quantity of grain, but vegetating and unfit for use. Previously to our reaching these entrenchments some of the detachment got wounded in the feet with ranjaus, set very thickly in the ground in every direction, and which obliged us to be very cautious in our steps until we arrived at the banks of a small rivulet, called the Nibong, two or three miles beyond them.
After crossing the Ayer Ikan stream twice, we reached some hot springs, about three or four miles along the winding path we had to take from dusun Tanjong, which is located in a low, swampy area and is about sixty yards in circumference. The water there is very hot everywhere except for one unusual spot on the eastern side, where, despite a hot spring bubbling up just a yard away, the water is as cold as regular spring water. Because of the intense heat and the softness of the ground, none of us could get close to the springs; but when we placed a thermometer just three yards away, it quickly shot up to 120 degrees Fahrenheit. We couldn't keep our fingers in the water for long. It had a coppery and bitter taste, a strong sulfur smell lingered in the air, and there was a green sediment at the bottom and sides of the spring, with a reddish or copper-colored scum floating on the surface. After crossing the Ikan stream once more, we reached dusun Simpang. The enemy had been here too, setting fire to nearly half the village and taking off the residents. The path from Tanjong to Simpang was completely through a series of pepper gardens and rice fields. We're now in the hills. The land here is better cultivated than near the coast, but it's almost abandoned and will soon turn into wasteland. We couldn’t get any news about the enemy. We built huts on Ayer Ikan at Napah Kapah. On the 17th, we marched south and crossed Ayer Tubbu, passing several durian trees along the bank. We crossed the stream multiple times. We arrived early at Tabe-si-kuddi, a small talang, where the enemy had built three batteries or entrenchments and left behind a lot of grain that was growing and unusable. Before we reached these entrenchments, some members of the detachment were injured in the feet by ranjaus, which were set densely in the ground in all directions, forcing us to be extremely careful with our steps until we got to the banks of a small stream called the Nibong, two or three miles beyond them.
RANJAUS.
RANJAUS.
Ranjaus are slips of bamboo sharpened at each end, the part that is stuck in the ground being thicker than the opposite end, which decreases to a fine thin point, and is hardened by dipping it in oil and applying it to the smoke of a lamp near the flame. They are planted in the footpaths, sometimes erect, sometimes sloping, in small holes, or in muddy and miry places, and when trodden upon (for they are so well concealed as not to be easily seen) they pierce through the foot and make a most disagreeable wound, the bamboo leaving in it a rough hairy stuff it has on its outside, which irritates, inflames, and prevents it from healing. The whole of the road this day lay over a succession of steep hills, and in the latter part covered with deep forests. The whole of the detachment did not reach our huts on the bank of the Nibong stream till evening, much time being consumed in bringing on the mortar and magazine. Picked up pouches, musket stocks, etc., and saw new huts, near one of which was a quantity of clotted blood and a fresh grave. 18th. Proceeded east-north-east and passed several rivulets. Regained the banks of the Ipu river, running north-east to south-west here tolerably broad and shallow, being a succession of rapids over a rough stony bed. Encamped both this night and the last where the enemy had built huts. 19th. Marched in a north direction. More of the detachment wounded by ranjaus planted in the pathways. Roads slippery and bad from rains, and the hills so steep it is with difficulty we get the mortar and heavy baggage forward. Killed a green snake with black spots along its back, about four feet long, four to five inches in girt, and with a thick stumpy tail. The natives say its bite is venomous. Our course today has been north along the banks of the Ipu river; the noise of the rapids so great that when near it we can with difficulty hear each other speak. 20th. Continued along the river, crossing it several times. Came to a hot spring in the water of which the thermometer rose to 100 degrees at a considerable distance from its source. The road today tolerably level and good.
Ranjaus are bamboo spikes sharpened on both ends, with the part buried in the ground thicker than the tip, which narrows to a fine point. They're hardened by dipping them in oil and exposing them to lamp smoke. They're placed along footpaths, sometimes standing straight, other times at an angle, in small holes or muddy spots. When stepped on (they're well-hidden and hard to spot), they can pierce the foot, causing an unpleasant wound. The bamboo leaves behind a rough, hairy substance that irritates and inflames the wound, making it harder to heal. The entire path today was over a series of steep hills, with the latter parts covered in dense forests. The whole group didn't reach our huts by the Nibong stream until evening, as a lot of time was spent transporting the mortar and supplies. We found various items like pouches and musket stocks, and came across new huts near one with a lot of dried blood and a fresh grave. On the 18th, we headed east-north-east and crossed several small streams. We returned to the banks of the Ipu river, which here is quite wide and shallow, flowing from northeast to southwest over rocky rapids. We camped both last night and tonight where the enemy had previously built huts. On the 19th, we marched north, and more people in our group got wounded by ranjaus hidden on the paths. The roads were slippery and difficult after the rains, and the steep hills made it hard to move the mortar and heavy gear forward. We killed a green snake with black spots, about four feet long and four to five inches in diameter, with a thick stumpy tail. The locals say its bite is poisonous. Today, we traveled north alongside the Ipu river; the sound of the rapids was so loud that we could barely hear each other. On the 20th, we continued along the river, crossing it multiple times. We encountered a hot spring where the thermometer reached 100 degrees at some distance from its source. The road today was fairly level and decent.
LEECHES.
LEECHES.
We were much plagued by a small kind of leech, which dropped on us from the leaves of the trees, and got withinside our clothes. We were in consequence on our halting every day obliged to strip and bathe ourselves in order to detach them from our bodies, filled with the blood they had sucked from us. They were not above an inch in length, and before they fixed themselves as thin as a needle, so that they could penetrate our dress in any part. We encamped this evening at the conflux of the Simpang stream and Ipu river. Our huts were generally thatched with the puar or wild cardamum leaf, which grows in great abundance on the banks of the rivers in this part of the country. It bears a pleasant acid fruit, growing much in the same way as the maize. In long journeys through the woods, when other provisions fail, the natives live principally on this. The leaf is something like that of the plantain, but not nearly so large. 21st. Arrived at a spot called Dingau-benar, from whence we were obliged to return on account of the coolies not being able to descend a hill which was at least a hundred and fifty yards high, and nearly perpendicular. In effecting it we were obliged to cling to the trees and roots, without which assistance it would have been impracticable. It was nearly evening before one half of the detachment had reached the bottom, and it rained so excessively hard that we were obliged to remain divided for the night; the rear party on the top of the steep hill, and the advanced on the brow of another hill. One of the guides and a Malay coolie were drowned in attempting to find a ford across the Ipu river. I was a long time before we could get any fire, everything being completely soaked through, and the greater part of the poor fellows had not time to build huts for themselves. Military disposition for guarding baggage, preventing surprise, etc. 22nd. We had much difficulty in getting the mortar and its bed down, being obliged to make use of long thick rattans tied to them and successively to several trees. It was really admirable to observe the patience of the sepoys and Bengal convicts on this occasion. On mustering the coolies, found that nearly one half had run during the night, which obliged us to fling away twenty bags of rice, besides salt and other articles. Our course lay north, crossing the river several times. My poor faithful dog Gruff was carried away by the violence of the stream and lost. We were obliged to make bridges by cutting down tall trees, laying them across the stream, and interlacing them with rattans.
We were constantly bothered by a small type of leech that fell on us from the tree leaves and got inside our clothes. Because of this, every day we had to stop, strip down, and bathe to remove them from our bodies, full of the blood they had sucked from us. They were about an inch long and, before attaching themselves, became as thin as a needle, allowing them to get through our clothing anywhere. We set up camp this evening at the point where the Simpang stream meets the Ipu river. Our huts were usually thatched with the puar or wild cardamom leaf, which grows abundantly along the riverbanks in this region. It produces a pleasantly tart fruit that grows similarly to corn. On long journeys through the forest, when other food supplies ran low, the locals primarily relied on this. The leaf resembles that of the plantain, but it’s not nearly as large. On the 21st, we reached a place called Dingau-benar, where we had to turn back because the coolies couldn't manage to go down a hill that was at least one hundred and fifty yards high and nearly vertical. In descending, we had to hold onto trees and roots; without that help, it would have been impossible. It was nearly evening before half of our group made it to the bottom, and it rained so heavily that we had to stay separated for the night—one group at the top of the steep hill and the other on another hill. One of the guides and a Malay coolie drowned while trying to find a crossing over the Ipu river. It took us a long time to get a fire going since everything was completely soaked, and most of the poor guys didn’t have time to build shelter for themselves. We had to stay organized to protect our supplies and prevent surprise attacks. On the 22nd, we had a lot of trouble getting the mortar and its base down, as we had to use long, thick rattans tied to them and then to several trees. It was truly impressive to see the patience of the sepoys and the Bengal convicts during this time. When we counted the coolies, we found that nearly half had run away during the night, forcing us to discard twenty bags of rice, along with salt and other items. We continued our journey north, crossing the river several times. My poor faithful dog, Gruff, was swept away by the strong current and lost. We had to build bridges by chopping down tall trees, laying them across the stream, and weaving them together with rattans.
We were now between two ranges of very high hills; on our right hand Bukit Pandang, seen from a great distance at sea; the road shockingly bad. Encamped on the western bank. 23rd. Marched in a north direction, the roads almost impassable. The river suddenly swelled so much that the rear party could not join the advanced, which was so fortunate as to occupy huts built by the enemy. There were fires in two of them. We were informed however that the Serampei and Sungei-tenang people often come this distance to catch fish, which they dry and carry back to their country. At certain times of the year great quantities of the ringkis and ikan-gadis are taken, besides a kind of large conger-eel. We frequently had fish when time would admit of the people catching them. It is impossible to describe the difficulties we had to encounter in consequence of the heavy rains, badness of the roads, and rapidity of the river. The sepoy officer and many men ill of fluxes and fevers, and lame with swelled and sore feet. 24th. Military precautions. Powder damaged. Thunder and lightning with torrents of rain. Almost the whole of the rice rotten or sour. 25th. Continued to march up the banks of the river. No inhabitants in this part of the country.
We were now between two ranges of very high hills; on our right was Bukit Pandang, visible from far out at sea; the road was in terrible condition. We set up camp on the western bank. On the 23rd, we marched north, and the roads were nearly impassable. The river suddenly rose so much that the rear group couldn’t catch up with the front, which was lucky enough to find huts built by the enemy. There were fires in two of them. We were told that the Serampei and Sungei-tenang people often come this far to catch fish, which they dry and take back to their home. At certain times of the year, they catch large quantities of ringkis and ikan-gadis, along with a type of large conger eel. We often had fish when the locals had time to catch them. It's hard to describe the challenges we faced due to the heavy rains, poor road conditions, and the swift river. The sepoy officer and many men were ill with dysentery and fevers, and some were limping from swollen and sore feet. On the 24th, we took military precautions. Our gunpowder got damaged. There was thunder and lightning along with heavy rain. Most of the rice had gone bad or spoiled. On the 25th, we continued to march along the riverbanks. There were no inhabitants in this area.
IRREGULARITY OF COMPASS.
Compass malfunction.
The compass for these several days has been very irregular. We have two with us and they do not at all agree. The road less bad. At one place we saw bamboos of the thickness of a man's thigh. There were myriads of very small flies this evening, which teased us much. Occupied some huts we found on the eastern bank. This is Christmas evening; to us, God knows, a dull one. Our wines and liquors nearly expended, and we have but one miserable half-starved chicken left although we have been on short allowance the whole way. 26th. Roads tolerable. Passed a spot called Kappah, and soon after a waterfall named Ipu-machang, about sixty feet high. Picked up a sick man belonging to the enemy. He informed us that there were between two and three hundred men collected at Koto Tuggoh, under the command of Sutan Sidi, Sutan Asing, and Pa Muncha. These three chiefs made a festival, killing buffaloes, as is usual with the natives of Sumatra on such occasions, at this place, and received every assistance from the principal Dupati, who is also father-in-law to Pa Muncha. They possess sixty stand of muskets, beside blunderbusses and wall-pieces. They had quitted the Company's districts about twenty-three days ago, and are gone, some to Koto Tuggoh, and others to Pakalang-jambu. 27th. Marched in a north-north-east direction; passed over a steep hill which took us three hours hard walking. The river is now very narrow and rapid, not above twelve feet across; it is a succession of waterfalls every three or four yards. After this our road was intricate, winding, and bad. We had to ascend a high chasm formed in the rock, which was effected by ladders from one shelf to another. Arrived at the foot of Bukit Pandang, where we found huts, and occupied them for the night. We have been ascending the whole of this day. Very cold and rainy. At night we were glad to make large fires and use our blankets and woollen clothes. Having now but little rice left we were obliged to put ourselves to an allowance of one bamboo or gallon measure among ten men; and the greater part of that rotten.
The compass has been really unreliable these past few days. We have two with us, and they don’t agree at all. The road isn’t too bad. At one point, we saw bamboos as thick as a man's thigh. There were tons of tiny flies this evening that bothered us a lot. We took shelter in some huts we found on the eastern bank. It’s Christmas evening, and for us, it’s a pretty dull one, to be honest. Our wines and spirits are almost gone, and we have just one sad, half-starved chicken left, even though we’ve been on a short ration the entire way. On the 26th, the roads were decent. We passed a place called Kappah, and soon after, a waterfall named Ipu-machang, about sixty feet high. We picked up a sick man from the enemy side. He told us that there were between two and three hundred men gathered at Koto Tuggoh, led by Sutan Sidi, Sutan Asing, and Pa Muncha. These three chiefs held a festival where they killed buffaloes, as the natives of Sumatra usually do on such occasions, and received help from the main Dupati, who is also the father-in-law of Pa Muncha. They have sixty muskets, along with blunderbusses and wall pieces. They left the Company's areas about twenty-three days ago, heading some to Koto Tuggoh and others to Pakalang-jambu. On the 27th, we marched in a north-north-east direction and climbed a steep hill that took us three hours of hard walking. The river is now very narrow and fast-moving, no more than twelve feet across; it has a series of waterfalls every three or four yards. After that, our path became tricky, winding, and rough. We had to climb a deep chasm in the rock using ladders from one ledge to another. We reached the foot of Bukit Pandang, where we found huts and stayed there for the night. We’ve been climbing all day. It’s very cold and rainy. At night, we were thankful to build large fires and use our blankets and woollen clothes. Since we’ve almost run out of rice, we had to limit ourselves to one bamboo or gallon measure among ten men; most of that is already rotten.
ASCEND A HIGH MOUNTAIN.
Climb a high mountain.
28th. Ascended Bukit Pandang in an east-north-east direction. Reached a small spring of water called Pondo Kubang, the only one to be met with till the hill is descended. About two miles from the top, and from thence all the way up, the trees and ground were covered very thick with moss; the trees much stunted, and altogether the appearance was barren and gloomy; to us particularly so, for we could find little or nothing wherewith to build our huts, nor procure a bit of dry wood to light a fire. In order to make one for dressing the victuals, Lieutenant Dare was compelled to break up one of his boxes, otherwise he and Mr. Alexander, the surgeon, must have eaten them raw. It rained hard all night, and the coolies and most of the party were obliged to lie down on the wet ground in the midst of it.
28th. I climbed Bukit Pandang heading east-north-east. We reached a small spring called Pondo Kubang, the only one we found until we went down the hill. About two miles from the top, the trees and ground were thick with moss; the trees were stunted, and everything looked barren and gloomy, especially to us, as we couldn’t find much to build our huts or even dry wood to start a fire. To cook our food, Lieutenant Dare had to break apart one of his boxes; otherwise, he and Mr. Alexander, the surgeon, would have had to eat it raw. It rained heavily all night, and the coolies and most of the group had to lie down on the wet ground in the middle of it.
MEN DIE FROM SEVERITY OF THE WEATHER.
Men die from extreme weather.
It was exceedingly cold to our feelings; in the evening the thermometer was down to 50 degrees, and in the night to 45 degrees. In consequence of the cold, inclemency, and fatigue to which the coolies were exposed, seven of them died that night. The lieutenant and surgeon made themselves a kind of shelter with four tarpaulins that were fortunately provided to cover the medicine chest and surgical instruments, but the place was so small that it scarcely held them both. In the evening when the former was sitting on his campstool, whilst the people were putting up the tarpaulins, a very small bird, perfectly black, came hopping about the stool, picking up the worms from the moss. It was so tame and fearless that it frequently perched itself on his foot and on different parts of the stool; which shows that these parts of the country must be very little frequented by human beings. 29th. Descended Bukit Pandang. Another coolie died this morning. We are obliged to fling away shells. After walking some time many of the people recovered, as it was principally from cold and damps they suffered. Crossed a stream called Inum where we saw several huts. In half an hour more arrived at the banks of the greater Ayer Dikit River, which is here shallow, rapid, and about eighty yards broad. We marched westerly along its banks, and reached a hut opposite to a spot called Rantau Kramas, where we remained for the night, being prevented from crossing by a flood. 30th. Cut down a large tree and threw it across the river; it reached about halfway over. With this and the assistance of rattans tied to the opposite side we effected our passage and arrived at Rantau Kramas. Sent off people to Ranna Alli, one of the Serampei villages, about a day's march from hence, for provisions. Thermometer 59 degrees.
It was extremely cold for us; in the evening, the thermometer dropped to 50 degrees, and by night it hit 45 degrees. Because of the cold, bad weather, and fatigue that the coolies endured, seven of them died that night. The lieutenant and surgeon managed to create a makeshift shelter with four tarpaulins that were fortunately available to cover the medicine chest and surgical tools, but the space was so small that it barely fit them both. In the evening, while the lieutenant was sitting on his camp stool and the others were setting up the tarpaulins, a very small bird, completely black, hopped around the stool, picking up worms from the moss. It was so tame and unafraid that it often landed on his foot and other parts of the stool, which suggests these areas are rarely visited by humans. 29th. Descended Bukit Pandang. Another coolie died this morning. We have to discard shells. After walking for a while, many of the people started to feel better since they were mainly suffering from the cold and dampness. We crossed a stream called Inum where we saw several huts. Half an hour later, we arrived at the banks of the Ayer Dikit River, which is shallow, fast-flowing, and about eighty yards wide. We marched west along its banks and reached a hut across from a place called Rantau Kramas, where we stayed for the night since we couldn’t cross because of the flood. 30th. We cut down a large tree and threw it across the river; it reached about halfway. With this and some rattans tied to the other side, we managed to cross and got to Rantau Kramas. I sent people to Ranna Alli, one of the Serampei villages, about a day's march from here, to get supplies. The thermometer read 59 degrees.
The greater Ayer Dikit river, on the north side of which this place lies, runs nearly from east to west. There are four or five bamboo huts at it, for the temporary habitation of travellers passing and repassing this way, being in the direction from the Serampei to the Sungei-tenang country. These huts are covered with bamboos (in plenty here) split and placed like pantiles transversely over each other, forming, when the bamboos are well-grown, a capital and lasting roof (see above). 31st. A Malay man and woman taken by our people report that the enemy thirteen days ago had proceeded two days march beyond Koto Tuggoh. Received some provisions from Ranna Alli. The enemy, we are informed, have dug holes and put long stakes into them, set spring-spears, and planted the road very thickly with ranjaus, and were collecting their force at Koto Tuggoh (signifying the strong fortress) to receive us. 1805. January 1st and 2nd. Received some small supplies of provisions.
The larger Ayer Dikit river, which is on the north side of this area, flows almost from east to west. There are four or five bamboo huts along it for travelers passing through this route, which connects Serampei to the Sungei-tenang area. These huts are covered with bamboo (which is abundant here) that are split and arranged like tiles, creating a solid and durable roof when the bamboo is well-grown (see above). 31st. A Malay man and woman captured by our people report that the enemy had advanced two days' march beyond Koto Tuggoh thirteen days ago. We received some provisions from Ranna Alli. We’ve been informed that the enemy has dug holes and set long stakes in them, placed spring spears, and heavily laid the road with ranjaus, as they gather their forces at Koto Tuggoh (meaning the strong fortress) to prepare for us. 1805. January 1st and 2nd. We received some small supplies of provisions.
COME UP WITH THE ENEMY.
Identify the enemy.
On the 3rd we were saluted by shouting and firing of the enemy from the heights around us. Parties were immediately sent off in different directions as the nature of the ground allowed.
On the 3rd, we were greeted by the enemy's shouting and gunfire from the heights surrounding us. Teams were quickly dispatched in various directions as the terrain permitted.
ATTACK.
Attack.
The advanced party had only time to fire two rounds when the enemy retired to a strong position on the top of a steep hill where they had thrown up a breastwork, which they disputed for a short time. On our getting possession of it they divided into three parties and fled. We had one sepoy killed and several of the detachment wounded by the ranjaus. Many of the enemy were killed and wounded and the paths they had taken covered with blood; but it is impossible to tell their numbers as they always carry them off the moment they drop, considering it a disgrace to leave them on the field of battle. If they get any of the bodies of their enemies they immediately strike off the head and fix it on a long pole, carrying it to their village as a trophy, and addressing to it every sort of abusive language. Those taken alive in battle are made slaves. After completely destroying everything in the battery we marched, and arrived at the top of a very high hill, where we built our huts for the evening. The road was thickly planted with ranjaus which, with the heavy rains, impeded our progress and prevented us from reaching a place called Danau-pau. Our course today has been north-east and easterly, the roads shockingly bad, and we were obliged to leave behind several coolies and two sepoys who were unable to accompany us. 4th. Obliged to fling away the bullets of the cartridges, three-fourths of which were damaged, and other articles. Most of the detachment sick with fluxes and fevers, or wounded in the feet. Marched in an eastern direction. Reached a spot very difficult to pass, being knee-deep in mud for a considerable way, with ranjaus concealed in the mud, and spring-spears set in many places. We were obliged to creep through a thicket of canes and bamboos. About noon the advanced party arrived at a lake and discovered that the enemy were on the opposite side of a small stream that ran from the lake, where they had entrenched themselves behind four small batteries in a most advantageous position, being on the top of a steep hill, of difficult access, with the stream on one side, the lake on the other, and the other parts surrounded by a swamp.
The advance team only had time to fire two rounds before the enemy retreated to a strong position at the top of a steep hill, where they had built a makeshift wall, which they defended for a short time. Once we took control of it, they split into three groups and fled. We lost one sepoy and had several from our crew wounded by spikes. Many of the enemy were killed or injured, and the paths they took were soaked in blood; however, it's impossible to determine their numbers since they always carry off their fallen comrades immediately, seeing it as shameful to leave them on the battlefield. If they manage to retrieve any enemy bodies, they quickly decapitate them and display the heads on long poles, bringing them back to their village as trophies and hurling all sorts of insults at them. Those who are captured alive in battle become slaves. After completely destroying everything in the battery, we marched on and reached the top of a very high hill, where we set up our huts for the evening. The road was heavily lined with spikes, and the heavy rains slowed us down, preventing us from reaching a place called Danau-pau. Today, we traveled northeast and east, dealing with horrifically bad roads, and we had to leave behind several porters and two sepoys who couldn’t keep up. On the 4th, we had to discard the bullets from our cartridges, three-quarters of which were damaged, along with other items. Most of the team was sick from dysentery and fevers or had injuries to their feet. We marched eastward, reaching a spot that was very hard to navigate, being knee-deep in mud for quite a stretch, with spikes hidden in the muck and traps set in many places. We had to crawl through a thicket of canes and bamboos. Around noon, the advance team reached a lake and found that the enemy was on the other side of a small stream coming from the lake, where they had fortified themselves behind four small battlements in a highly advantageous position on top of a steep hill, difficult to access, with the stream on one side, the lake on the other, and the other areas surrounded by swamp.
ENTRENCHMENTS ATTACKED AND CARRIED.
Trenches attacked and captured.
We immediately commenced the attack, but were unable, from the number of ranjaus in the only accessible part, to make a push on to the enemy. However about one o'clock we effected our purpose, and completely got possession of the entrenchments, which, had they been properly defended, must have cost us more than the half of our detachment. We had four sepoys severely wounded, and almost the whole of our feet dreadfully cut. Numbers of the enemy were killed and wounded. They defended each of the batteries with some obstinacy against our fire, but when once we came near them they could not stand our arms, and ran in every direction. At this place there are no houses nor inhabitants, but only temporary huts, built by the Sungei-tenang people, who come here occasionally to fish. The lake, which is named Danau-pau, has a most beautiful appearance, being like a great amphitheatre, surrounded by high and steep mountains covered with forests. It is about two miles in diameter. We occupied some huts built by the enemy. The place is thickly surrounded with bamboos.
We started the attack right away, but we couldn't push forward against the enemy because of the many obstacles in the only accessible area. However, around one o'clock, we succeeded and took full control of the fortifications, which, if they had been defended properly, would have cost us more than half of our troops. We had four sepoys seriously wounded, and nearly all of our feet were severely injured. Many enemy soldiers were killed or injured. They defended each of the positions quite stubbornly against our fire, but as soon as we got close, they couldn't withstand our weapons and fled in every direction. This area has no houses or residents, just temporary huts made by the Sungei-tenang people who occasionally come here to fish. The lake, called Danau-pau, is stunning, resembling a large amphitheater surrounded by tall, steep mountains covered in forests. It has a diameter of about two miles. We took over some huts built by the enemy. The area is densely surrounded by bamboo.
MOTIVES FOR RETURNING TO THE COAST.
MOTIVES FOR RETURNING TO THE COAST.
In consequence of the number of our sick and wounded, the small strength of coolies to carry their baggage, and the want of medicines and ammunition, as well as of provisions, we thought it advisable to return to Rantau Kramas; and to effect this we were obliged to fling away the mortar-bed, shells, and a number of other things. We marched at noon, and arrived in the evening at the top of the hill where we had before encamped, and remained for the night. 6th. Reached Rantau Kramas. 7th. Marching in torrents of rain. People exceedingly harassed, reduced, and emaciated. Relieved by the arrival of Serampei people with some provisions from Ranna Alli. 8th. After a most fatiguing march arrived at that place half-dead with damps and cold. The bearers of the litters for the sick were absolutely knocked up, and we were obliged to the sepoys for getting on as we did. Our route was north-west with little variation. 9th. Remained at Ranna Alli. This serampei village consists of about fifteen houses, and may contain a hundred and fifty or two hundred inhabitants. It is thickly planted all round with a tall hedge of live bamboos, on the outside of which ranjaus are planted to the distance of thirty or forty feet. Withinside of the hedge there is a bamboo pagar or paling. It is situated on a steep hill surrounded by others, which in many places are cleared to their tops, where the inhabitants have their ladangs or rice plantations. They appeared to be a quiet, inoffensive set of people; their language different from the Malayan, which most of them spoke, but very imperfectly and hardly to be understood by us. On our approach the women and children ran to their ladangs, being, as their husbands informed us, afraid of the sepoys.
Due to the number of our sick and wounded, the limited number of coolies to carry their baggage, and the shortage of medicines, ammunition, and provisions, we decided it was best to return to Rantau Kramas. To do this, we had to abandon the mortar bed, shells, and several other items. We marched at noon and arrived in the evening at the top of the hill where we had camped before, and stayed there for the night. 6th. Reached Rantau Kramas. 7th. Marching in heavy rain. People were extremely exhausted, weakened, and emaciated. We were relieved by the arrival of the Serampei people with some supplies from Ranna Alli. 8th. After a grueling march, we arrived at that place feeling half-dead from the dampness and cold. The bearers of the litters for the sick were totally worn out, and we owed it to the sepoys for making the progress we did. Our route was northwest with little change. 9th. Stayed at Ranna Alli. This Serampei village has about fifteen houses and may have a population of one hundred fifty to two hundred residents. It is surrounded by a tall hedge of live bamboos, with ranjaus planted about thirty to forty feet away. Inside the hedge, there's a bamboo fence. The village is located on a steep hill surrounded by others, with many areas cleared to the tops where the inhabitants have their rice plantations, or ladangs. They seemed to be a peaceful, non-threatening group of people; their language is different from Malayan, which most of them spoke, but very imperfectly, making it hard for us to understand. When we approached, the women and children ran to their ladangs, as their husbands told us they were afraid of the sepoys.
GOITRES.
Thyroids.
Of the women whom we saw almost every one had the goitres or swellings under the throat; and it seemed to be more prevalent with these than with the men. One woman in particular had two protuberances dangling at her neck as big as quart bottles.
Of the women we saw, almost all of them had goiters or swellings under their throats, and it seemed to be more common among them than the men. One woman, in particular, had two lumps hanging from her neck that were as big as quart bottles.
There are three dupatis and four mantris to this village, to whom we made presents, and afterwards to the wives and families of the inhabitants. 10th and 11th. Preparing for our march to Moco-moco, where we can recruit our force, and procure supplies of stores and ammunition. 12th. Marched in a north and north-west direction.
There are three leaders and four advisors in this village, to whom we gave gifts, and later to the wives and families of the residents. 10th and 11th. Getting ready for our journey to Moco-moco, where we can strengthen our team and gather supplies and ammunition. 12th. We marched in a north and north-west direction.
HANGING BRIDGE.
Suspension bridge.
Passed over a bridge of curious construction across the Ayer Abu River. It was formed of bamboos tied together with iju ropes and suspended to the trees, whose branches stretched nearly over the stream.
Crossed a bridge of unique design over the Ayer Abu River. It was made of bamboos tied together with iju ropes and hung from trees whose branches almost reached over the water.
The Serampei women are the worst-favoured creatures we ever saw, and uncouth in their manners. Arrived at Tanjong Kasiri, another fortified village, more populous than Ranna Alli. 13th. The sick and heavy baggage were ordered to Tanjong Agung, another Serampei village.
The Serampei women are the most unfortunate people we've ever seen, and they have rough manners. We arrived at Tanjong Kasiri, another fortified village, which is more populated than Ranna Alli. 13th. The sick and the heavy luggage were sent to Tanjong Agung, another Serampei village.
HOT SPRINGS.
Hot springs.
14th. Arrived at Ayer Grau or Abu, a small river, within a yard or two of which we saw columns of smoke issuing from the earth, where there were hot springs of water bubbling up in a number of places. The stream was quite warm for several yards, and the ground and stones were so hot that there was no standing on them for any length of time. The large pieces of quartz, pumice, and other stones apparently burnt, induce us to suppose there must have formerly been a volcano at this spot, which is a deep vale, surrounded by high hills. Arrived much fatigued at Tanjong Agung, where the head dupati received us in his best style.
14th. We reached Ayer Grau or Abu, a small river, just a couple of yards away from which we noticed columns of smoke rising from the ground, where hot springs were bubbling up in several areas. The stream was quite warm for several yards, and the ground and stones were so hot that we couldn’t stand on them for long. The large pieces of quartz, pumice, and other seemingly burned stones suggest there used to be a volcano here, in a deep valley surrounded by high hills. We finally arrived at Tanjong Agung, exhausted, where the head dupati welcomed us in style.
COCONUTS.
COCONUTS.
He seemed to know more of European customs and manners than those whom we have hitherto met with, and here, for the first time since quitting the Ipu district, we got coconuts, which he presented to us.
He seemed to know more about European customs and manners than anyone we had met so far, and here, for the first time since leaving the Ipu district, we received coconuts, which he gave to us.
CASSIA.
CASSIA.
We saw numbers of cassia-trees in our march today. The bark, which the natives brought us in quantities, is sweet, but thick and coarse, and much inferior to cinnamon. This is the last and best fortified village in the Serampei country, bordering on the forests between that and Anak-Sungei.
We saw a lot of cassia trees on our march today. The bark, which the locals brought us in large amounts, is sweet but thick and rough, and much less desirable than cinnamon. This is the last and best-fortified village in the Serampei region, close to the forests that separate it from Anak-Sungei.
PECULIAR REGULATION.
Strange rule.
They have a custom here of never allowing any animal to be killed in any part of the village but the balei or town hall, unless the person wishing to do otherwise consents to pay a fine of one fathom of cotton cloth to the priest for his permission. The old dupati told us there had been formerly a great deal of sickness and bloodshed in the village, and it had been predicted that, unless this custom were complied with, the like would happen again. We paid the fine, had the prayers of the priest, and killed our goats where and as we pleased. 16th. Marched in a south-westerly direction, and, after passing many steep hills, reached the lesser Ayer Dikit River, which we crossed, and built our huts on its western bank. 17th. Marched in a west, and afterwards a south, direction; the roads, in consequence of the rain ceasing today, tolerably dry and good, but over high hills. Arrived at Ayer Prikan, and encamped on its western bank; its course north and south over a rough, stony bed; very rapid, and about thirty yards across, at the foot of Bukit Lintang. Saw today abundance of cassiatrees. 18th. Proceeded to ascend Bukit Lintang, which in the first part was excessively steep and fatiguing; our route north and north-west when descending, south-south-west. Arrived at one of the sources of the Sungei-ipu. Descending still farther we reached a small spring where we built our huts. 19th. On our march this day we were gratified by the receipt of letters from our friends at Bencoolen, by the way of Moco-moco, from whence the Resident, Mr. Russell, sent us a supply of wine and other refreshments, which we had not tasted for fourteen days. Our course lay along the banks of the Sungei-ipu, and we arrived at huts prepared for us by Mr. Russell. 20th. At one time our guide lost the proper path by mistaking for it the track of a rhinoceros (which are in great numbers in these parts), and we got into a place where we were teased with myriads of leeches. Our road, excepting two or three small hills, was level and good. Reached the confluence of the Ipu and Si Luggan Rivers, the latter of which rises in the Korinchi country. Passed Gunong Payong, the last hill, as we approached Moco-moco, near to which had been a village formerly burnt and the inhabitants made slaves by Pa Muncha and the then tuanku mudo (son of the sultan). 21st. Arrived at talang Rantau Riang, the first Moco-moco or Anak-Sungei village, where we found provisions dressed for us. At dusun Si Ballowe, to which our road lay south-easterly, through pepper and rice plantations, sampans were in readiness to convey us down the river. This place is remarkable for an arau tree (casuarina), the only one met with at such a distance from the sea. The country is here level in comparison with what we have passed through, and the soil rather sandy, with a mixture of red clay. 22nd. The course of the river is south-west and west with many windings. Arrived at Moco-moco.
They have a custom here that prohibits killing any animal anywhere in the village except at the balei or town hall, unless the person who wants to do otherwise agrees to pay a fine of one fathom of cotton cloth to the priest for his permission. The old dupati told us that there had been a lot of sickness and bloodshed in the village in the past, and it was predicted that if this custom wasn’t followed, similar events would happen again. We paid the fine, received the priest's prayers, and killed our goats wherever and however we wanted. 16th. We marched southwest and, after passing many steep hills, reached the lesser Ayer Dikit River, which we crossed and built our huts on its western bank. 17th. We marched west and then south; the roads were fairly dry and good since the rain stopped today, but still over high hills. We arrived at Ayer Prikan and set up camp on its western bank; the river flowed north to south over a rough, stony bed, was very fast, and about thirty yards wide, at the foot of Bukit Lintang. We saw plenty of cassia trees today. 18th. We began to climb Bukit Lintang, which was very steep and exhausting at first; we headed north and northwest while descending, and then south-southwest. We reached one of the sources of the Sungei-ipu. Continuing down, we found a small spring where we built our huts. 19th. During our march today, we were pleased to receive letters from our friends in Bencoolen via Moco-moco, from where the Resident, Mr. Russell, sent us a supply of wine and other refreshments that we hadn’t had for fourteen days. We traveled along the banks of the Sungei-ipu and reached huts prepared for us by Mr. Russell. 20th. At one point, our guide lost the right path by mistaking a rhinoceros track for it (there are many rhinoceroses in this area), and we ended up in a place swarming with leeches. The road was flat and good, except for a couple of small hills. We reached the confluence of the Ipu and Si Luggan Rivers, the latter originating in the Korinchi region. We passed Gunong Payong, the last hill, as we approached Moco-moco, near where a village had been burned down and the inhabitants enslaved by Pa Muncha and the then tuanku mudo (son of the sultan). 21st. We arrived at Talang Rantau Riang, the first Moco-moco or Anak-Sungei village, where we found prepared provisions for us. At Dusun Si Ballowe, where our road went southeast through pepper and rice plantations, sampans were ready to take us down the river. This place is notable for an arau tree (casuarina), the only one found so far from the sea. The land is relatively flat compared to what we’ve passed through, with sandy soil mixed with red clay. 22nd. The river's course is southwest and west with many bends. We arrived at Moco-moco.
DESCRIPTION OF MOCO-MOCO.
DESCRIPTION OF MOCO-MOCO.
Fort Ann lies on the southern and the settlement on the northern side of the Si Luggan River, which name belongs properly to the place also, and that of Moco-moco to a small village higher up. The bazaar consists of about one hundred houses, all full of children. At the northern end is the sultan's, which has nothing particular to distinguish it, but only its being larger than other Malay houses. Great quantities of fish are procured at this place, and sold cheap. The trade is principally with the hill-people, in salt, piece-goods, iron, steel, and opium; for which the returns are provisions, timber, and a little gold-dust. Formerly there was a trade carried on with the Padang and other ate angin people, but it is now dropped. The soil is sandy, low, and flat.
Fort Ann is located on the southern side, while the settlement is on the northern side of the Si Luggan River, which is the proper name for the area, and Moco-moco refers to a small village located further upstream. The bazaar has about one hundred houses, all filled with children. At the northern end is the sultan's house, which doesn't stand out for any specific reason except that it's larger than other Malay houses. A large amount of fish is caught here and sold at low prices. The main trade is with the hill people, involving items like salt, textiles, iron, steel, and opium, while they receive food, timber, and a bit of gold dust in return. There used to be trade with the Padang and other ate angin people, but that has since ceased. The land is sandy, low, and flat.
EXPEDITION RESUMED.
Expedition resumed.
It being still necessary to make an example of the Sungei-tenang people for assisting the three hostile chiefs in their depredations, in order thereby to deter others from doing the same in future, and the men being now recovered from their fatigue and furnished with the requisite supplies, the detachment began to march on the 9th of February for Ayer Dikit. It now consists of Lieutenant Dare, Mr. Alexander, surgeon, seventy sepoys, including officers, twenty-seven lascars and Bengal convicts, and eleven of the bugis-guard. Left the old mortar and took with us one of smaller calibre.
It was still necessary to set an example out of the Sungei-tenang people for helping the three hostile chiefs in their raids to discourage others from doing the same in the future. Now that the men had recovered from their fatigue and had the necessary supplies, the detachment began to march on February 9th toward Ayer Dikit. It now included Lieutenant Dare, Mr. Alexander, the surgeon, seventy sepoys (including officers), twenty-seven lascars and Bengal convicts, and eleven members of the Bugis guard. We left the old mortar behind and took with us a smaller one.
ACCOUNT OF SERAMPEI COUNTRY AND PEOPLE.
ACCOUNT OF SERAMPEI COUNTRY AND PEOPLE.
From the 10th to the 22nd occupied in our march to the Serampei village of Ranna Alli. The people of this country acknowledge themselves the subjects of the sultan of Jambi, who sometimes but rarely exacts a tribute from them of a buffalo, a tail of gold, and a hundred bamboos of rice from each village. They are accustomed to carry burdens of from sixty to ninety pounds weight on journeys that take them twenty or thirty days; and it astonishes a lowlander to see with what ease they walk over these hills, generally going a shuffling or ambling pace. Their loads are placed in a long triangular basket, supported by a fillet across the forehead, resting upon the back and back part of the head, the broadest end of the triangle being uppermost, considerably above the head, and the small end coming down as low as the loins. The Serampei country, comprehending fifteen fortified and independent dusuns, beside talangs or small open villages, is bounded on the north and north-west by Korinchi, on the east, south-east, and south by Pakalang-jambu and Sungei-tenang, and on the west and south-west by the greater Ayer Dikit River and chain of high mountains bordering on the Sungei-ipu country. 23rd. Reached Rantau Kramas. Took possession of the batteries, which the enemy had considerably improved in our absence, collecting large quantities of stones; but they were not manned, probably from not expecting our return so soon. 24th. Arrived at those of Danau-pau, which had also been strengthened. The roads being dry and weather fine we are enabled to make tolerably long marches. Our advanced party nearly caught one of the enemy planting ranjaus, and in retreating he wounded himself with them. 25th. Passed many small rivulets discharging themselves into the lake at this place.
From the 10th to the 22nd, we marched to the Serampei village of Ranna Alli. The people in this area consider themselves subjects of the sultan of Jambi, who occasionally, though rarely, demands a tribute of a buffalo, a tail of gold, and a hundred bamboos of rice from each village. They are used to carrying loads weighing between sixty and ninety pounds for journeys lasting twenty to thirty days, and it surprises a lowlander to see how effortlessly they navigate these hills, usually moving at a shuffling or ambling pace. Their loads are carried in a long triangular basket supported by a strap across the forehead, resting on the back and the lower part of the head, with the wide end of the triangle positioned high above the head and the narrow end reaching down as low as their waist. The Serampei region includes fifteen fortified and independent dusuns, in addition to talangs or small open villages. It's bordered to the north and northwest by Korinchi, to the east, southeast, and south by Pakalang-jambu and Sungei-tenang, and to the west and southwest by the greater Ayer Dikit River and a chain of high mountains adjacent to the Sungei-ipu area. On the 23rd, we arrived at Rantau Kramas and took control of the batteries, which the enemy had significantly reinforced during our absence, gathering large amounts of stones; however, they weren’t manned, probably because they didn’t expect our return so soon. On the 24th, we reached Danau-pau's defenses, which had also been strengthened. With the roads dry and the weather nice, we managed to make fairly long marches. Our advanced party almost caught one of the enemy while he was setting up ranjaus, and in his retreat, he accidentally injured himself with them. On the 25th, we crossed many small streams flowing into the lake at this location.
COME UP WITH THE ENEMY.
Create an enemy.
26th. The officer commanding the advanced party sent word that the enemy were at a short distance ahead; that they had felled a number of trees to obstruct the road, and had thrown an entrenchment across it, extending from one swamp and precipice to another, where they waited to receive us. When the whole of the detachment had come up we marched on to the attack, scrambled over the trees, and with great difficulty got the mortar over.
26th. The officer in charge of the advance team reported that the enemy was not far ahead; they had cut down several trees to block the road and built a barricade that stretched from one swamp to another, where they were ready to confront us. Once the entire group had assembled, we moved forward to launch the attack, climbed over the fallen trees, and managed to get the mortar across with considerable effort.
FIRST ATTACK FAILS.
First attack fails.
The first onset was not attended with success, and our men were dropping fast, not being able to advance on account of the ranjaus, which almost pinned their feet to the ground. Seeing that the entrenchments were not to be carried in front, a subedar with thirty sepoys and the bugis-guard were ordered to endeavour to pass the swamp on the right, find out a pathway, and attack the enemy on the flank and rear, while the remainder should, on a preconcerted signal, make an attack on the front at the same time. To prevent the enemy from discovering our intentions the drums were kept beating, and a few random shots fired. Upon the signal being given a general attack commenced, and our success was complete.
The first attempt didn’t go well, and our troops were falling quickly, unable to move forward because the mud nearly trapped their feet. Realizing that we couldn't break through the defenses in front, a subedar with thirty sepoys and the bugis-guard was ordered to try to cross the swamp on the right, find a path, and hit the enemy from the sides and behind, while the rest would, at a prearranged signal, launch an assault up front at the same time. To keep the enemy from figuring out our plans, we kept the drums beating and fired off a few random shots. When the signal was given, a full attack began, and we achieved complete success.
ENTRENCHMENTS CARRIED.
ENTRENCHMENTS COMPLETED.
The enemy, of whom there were, as we reckon, three or four hundred within the entrenchments, were soon put to the rout, and, after losing great numbers, among whom was the head dupati, a principal instigator of the disturbances, fled in all directions. We lost two sepoys killed and seven wounded, beside several much hurt by the ranjaus. The mortar played during the time, but is not supposed to have done much execution on account of the surrounding trees.
The enemy, who we estimate numbered around three or four hundred within the fortifications, were quickly routed and, after suffering significant losses—among them the main instigator of the unrest—fled in all directions. We had two sepoys killed and seven wounded, along with several others seriously hurt by the ranjaus. The mortar was in action during this period, but it likely didn’t have much impact due to the surrounding trees.
THEIR CONSTRUCTION.
THEIR BUILDING.
The entrenchments were constructed of large trees laid horizontally between stakes driven into the ground, about seven feet high, with loopholes for firing. Being laid about six feet thick, a cannonball could not have penetrated. They extended eighty or ninety yards. The headman's quarters were a large tree hollowed at the root.
The fortifications were made from big trees placed horizontally between stakes driven into the ground, about seven feet high, with openings for shooting. They were about six feet thick, so a cannonball couldn't get through. They stretched for about eighty or ninety yards. The headman's quarters were a large tree that was hollowed out at the base.
As soon as litters could be made for the wounded, and the killed were buried, we continued our march in an eastern direction, and in about an hour arrived at another battery, which however was not defended. In front of this the enemy had tied a number of long sharp stakes to a stone, which was suspended to the bough of a tree, and by swinging it their plan was to wound us.
As soon as we could make litters for the injured and bury the dead, we kept moving east. About an hour later, we reached another battery, but it wasn't guarded. In front of it, the enemy had attached several long sharp stakes to a stone that was hanging from a tree branch. Their plan was to swing it and injure us.
ARRIVE AT A STREAM RUNNING INTO THE JAMBI RIVER.
ARRIVE AT A STREAM FLOWING INTO THE JAMBI RIVER.
Crossed the Tambesi rivulet, flowing from south to north, and one of the contributary streams to the Jambi River, which discharges itself into the sea on the eastern side of the Island. Built our huts near a field of maize and padi.
Crossed the Tambesi stream, which flows from south to north and is one of the tributaries of the Jambi River, that flows into the sea on the eastern side of the island. We set up our huts close to a field of corn and rice.
KOTO TUGGOH.
Koto Tuggo.
27th. Marched to Koto Tuggoh, from whence the inhabitants fled on our throwing one shell and firing a few muskets, and we took possession of the place. It is situated on a high hill, nearly perpendicular on three sides, the easiest entrance being on the west, but it is there defended by a ditch seven fathoms deep and five wide. The place contains the ballei and about twenty houses, built in general of plank very neatly put together, and carved; and some of them were also roofed with planks or shingles about two feet long and one broad. The others with the leaves of the puar or cardamum, which are again very thinly covered with iju. This is said to last long, but harbours vermin, as we experienced. When we entered the village we met with only one person, who was deformed, dumb, and had more the appearance of a monkey than a human creature.
27th. We marched to Koto Tuggoh, where the locals ran away after we fired a shell and a few shots. We took over the area. It's located on a steep hill that drops off nearly straight on three sides, with the easiest access from the west, though it's protected by a ditch seven fathoms deep and five wide. The place includes the ballei and around twenty houses, generally built from neatly joined planks and intricately carved; some had roofs made of planks or shingles about two feet long and one foot wide. Others were covered with the leaves of the puar or cardamom, which were then thinly layered with iju. This type of roofing is said to last a long time, but it attracts pests, as we found out. When we entered the village, we encountered only one person, who was deformed, mute, and looked more like a monkey than a human.
DESTROYED. ENTER KOTO BHARU.
DESTROYED. ENTER KOTA BHARU.
March 1st. After completely destroying Koto Tuggoh we marched in a north and afterwards an east direction, and arrived at Koto Bharu. The head dupati requesting a parley, it was granted, and, on our promising not to injure his village, he allowed us to take possession of it. We found in the place a number of Batang Asei and other people, armed with muskets, blunderbusses, and spears. At our desire, he sent off people to the other Sungei-tenang villages to summon their chiefs to meet us if they chose to show themselves friends, or otherwise we should proceed against them as we had done against Koto Tuggoh.
March 1st. After completely wiping out Koto Tuggoh, we marched north and then east, arriving at Koto Bharu. The head dupati asked for a meeting, which we allowed, and when we promised not to harm his village, he let us take possession of it. We found several Batang Asei and others there, armed with muskets, blunderbusses, and spears. At our request, he sent people to the other Sungei-tenang villages to call their chiefs to meet us if they wanted to be friendly; otherwise, we would move against them as we had with Koto Tuggoh.
PEACE CONCLUDED.
Peace achieved.
This dupati was a respectable-looking old man, and tears trickled down his cheeks when matters were amicably settled between us: indeed for some time he could hardly be convinced of it, and repeatedly asked, "Are we friends?" 2nd. The chiefs met as desired, and after a short conversation agreed to all that we proposed. Papers were thereupon drawn up and signed and sworn to under the British colours. After this a shell was thrown into the air at the request of the chiefs, who were desirous of witnessing the sight.
This dupati was a dignified old man, and tears streamed down his cheeks when we settled our matters amicably: in fact, for a while, he could hardly accept it and kept asking, "Are we friends?" The chiefs gathered as requested, and after a brief discussion, they agreed to everything we proposed. Documents were then prepared, signed, and sworn to under the British flag. After that, a shell was launched into the air at the chiefs' request, as they wanted to see the spectacle.
MODE OF TAKING AN OATH.
Oath-taking method.
Their method of swearing was as follows: The young shoots of the anau-tree were made into a kind of rope, with the leaves hanging, and this was attached to four stakes stuck in the ground, forming an area of five or six feet square, within which a mat was spread, where those about to take the oath seated themselves. A small branch of the prickly bamboo was planted in the area also, and benzoin was kept burning during the ceremony. The chiefs then laid their hands on the koran, held to them by a priest, and one of them repeated to the rest the substance of the oath, who, at the pauses he made, gave a nod of assent; after which they severally said, "may the earth become barren, the air and water poisonous, and may dreadful calamities fall on us and our posterity, if we do not fulfil what we now agree to and promise."
Their way of swearing an oath was like this: The new shoots of the anau tree were twisted into a sort of rope, with the leaves hanging down, and this was tied to four stakes driven into the ground, creating a space about five or six feet square, where a mat was laid out for those taking the oath to sit on. A small branch of prickly bamboo was also placed in the area, and benzoin was burned throughout the ceremony. The chiefs then laid their hands on the Quran, which a priest held for them, and one of them recited the main points of the oath. As he paused, the others nodded in agreement; then they each said, "may the earth become barren, the air and water poisonous, and may terrible disasters come to us and our descendants if we do not keep the promises we are making now."
ACCOUNT OF SUNGEI-TENANG COUNTRY.
Sungei-Tenang Country Report.
We met here with little or no fruit excepting plantains and pineapples, and these of an indifferent sort. The general produce of the country was maize, padi, potatoes, sweet-potatoes, tobacco, and sugar-cane. The principal part of their clothing was procured from the eastern side of the island. They appear to have no regular season for sowing the grain, and we saw plantations where in one part they had taken in the crop, in another part it was nearly ripe, in a third not above five inches high, and in a fourth they had but just prepared the ground for sowing. Upon the whole, there appeared more cultivation than near the coast.
We gathered here with hardly any fruits except for some plantains and pineapples, and those were mediocre. The main crops in the area included corn, rice, potatoes, sweet potatoes, tobacco, and sugarcane. Most of their clothing came from the eastern side of the island. It seems they don’t have a set schedule for planting their crops, as we noticed fields where some areas had already been harvested, others were almost ready to harvest, some were only about five inches tall, and in other sections, they had just started preparing the soil for planting. Overall, there seemed to be more farming happening inland than near the coast.
MANNERS OF PEOPLE.
PEOPLE'S MANNERS.
It is a practice with many individuals among these people (as with mountaineers in some parts of Europe) to leave their country in order to seek employment where they can find it, and at the end of three or four years revisit their native soil, bringing with them the produce of their labours. If they happen to be successful they become itinerant merchants, and travel to almost all parts of the island, particularly where fairs are held, or else purchase a matchlock gun and become soldiers of fortune, hiring themselves to whoever will pay them, but always ready to come forward in defence of their country and families. They are a thick stout dark race of people, something resembling the Achinese; and in general they are addicted to smoking opium. We had no opportunity of seeing the Sungei-tenang women. The men are very fantastical in their dress. Their bajus have the sleeves blue perhaps whilst the body is white, with stripes of red or any other colour over the shoulders, and their short breeches are generally one half blue and the other white, just as fancy leads them. Others again are dressed entirely in blue cotton cloth, the same as the inhabitants of the west coast. The bag containing their sirih or betel hangs over the shoulder by a string, if it may be so termed, of brass wire. Many of them have also twisted brass wire round the waist, in which they stick their krises.
Many people in this community (similar to mountaineers in some parts of Europe) often leave their homeland to find work wherever they can. After three or four years, they return to their native land, bringing back the fruits of their labor. If they find success, they become traveling merchants, visiting nearly every part of the island, especially where fairs are held, or they buy a matchlock gun and become mercenaries, working for anyone who pays them but always ready to defend their country and families. They are a stout, dark-skinned group of people, somewhat resembling the Achinese, and generally, they have a habit of smoking opium. We didn't get a chance to see the Sungei-tenang women. The men have very colorful styles of dress. Their bajus often have blue sleeves while the main body is white, with stripes of red or other colors over the shoulders, and their short pants are usually half blue and half white, depending on their taste. Others wear outfits made entirely of blue cotton cloth like the people on the west coast. A bag of sirih or betel hangs from their shoulder by a brass wire string. Many of them also wrap twisted brass wire around their waist, where they keep their krises.
CHARMS.
CHARMS.
They commonly carry charms about their persons to preserve them from accidents; one of which was shown to us, printed (at Batavia or Samarang in Java) in Dutch, Portuguese, and French. It purported that the writer was acquainted with the occult sciences, and that whoever possessed one of the papers impressed with his mark (which was the figure of a hand with the thumb and fingers extended) was invulnerable and free from all kinds of harm. It desired the people to be very cautious of taking any such printed in London (where certainly none were ever printed), as the English would endeavour to counterfeit them and to impose on the purchasers, being all cheats. (Whether we consider this as a political or a mercantile speculation it is not a little extraordinary and ridiculous). The houses here, as well as in the Serampei country, are all built on posts of what they call paku gajah (elephant-fern, Chamaerops palma, Lour.), a tree something resembling a fern, and when full-grown a palm-tree. It is of a fibrous nature, black, and lasts for a great length of time. Every dusun has a ballei or town hall, about a hundred and twenty feet long and proportionably broad, the woodwork of which is neatly carved. The dwelling-houses contain five, six, or seven families each, and the country is populous. The inhabitants both of Sungei-tenang and Serampei are Mahometans, and acknowledge themselves subjects of Jambi. The former country, so well as we were able to ascertain, is bounded on the north and north-west by Korinchi and Serampei, on the west and south-west by the Anak-sungei or Moco-moco and Ipu districts, on the south by Labun, and on the east by Batang Asei and Pakalang-jambu. 3rd. Marched on our return to the coast, many of the principal people attending us as far as the last of their plantations. It rained hard almost the whole of this day.
They often carry charms with them to protect against accidents; one of these was shown to us, printed (in Batavia or Samarang in Java) in Dutch, Portuguese, and French. It claimed that the writer was knowledgeable about the occult sciences, and that anyone who had one of the papers marked with his symbol (which was a hand with the thumb and fingers spread out) would be invulnerable and safe from all kinds of harm. It advised people to be very careful about taking any that were printed in London (where none were actually printed), as the English would try to replicate them and deceive buyers, being all frauds. (Whether we view this as a political or business tactic, it's quite unusual and laughable). The houses here, like those in the Serampei area, are all built on posts made from what they call paku gajah (elephant-fern, Chamaerops palma, Lour.), a tree that looks a bit like a fern, and when fully grown resembles a palm tree. It’s fibrous, black, and lasts a long time. Every dusun has a ballei or town hall, about one hundred and twenty feet long and proportionately wide, with nicely carved woodwork. The houses hold five, six, or seven families each, and the area is quite populated. The people in both Sungei-tenang and Serampei are Muslims and consider themselves subjects of Jambi. As far as we could determine, the former country is bordered to the north and northwest by Korinchi and Serampei, to the west and southwest by the Anak-sungei or Moco-moco and Ipu districts, to the south by Labun, and to the east by Batang Asei and Pakalang-jambu. On the 3rd, we marched back to the coast, with many of the local leaders escorting us as far as the end of their plantations. It rained heavily for almost the entire day.
RETURN TO THE COAST.
Return to the coast.
On the 14th arrived at Moco-moco; on the 22nd proceeded for Bencoolen, and arrived there on the 30th March 1805, after one of the most fatiguing and harassing expeditions any detachment of troops ever served upon; attended with the sickness of the whole of the party, and the death of many, particularly of Mr. Alexander, the surgeon.
On the 14th, we arrived at Moco-moco; on the 22nd, we headed to Bencoolen and got there on March 30, 1805, after one of the most exhausting and stressful missions any troop has ever been on. Everyone in the group got sick, and many died, especially Mr. Alexander, the surgeon.
End of Lieutenant Dare's narrative.
End of Lt. Dare's story.
It is almost unnecessary to observe that these were the consequences of the extreme impolicy of sending an expedition up the country in the heart of the rainy season. The public orders issued on the occasion were highly creditable to Lieutenant Dare.
It’s almost obvious to note that these were the results of the poor judgment in sending a mission into the interior during the rainy season. The public statements made during this time reflected well on Lieutenant Dare.
CHAPTER 18.
MALAYAN STATES.
ANCIENT EMPIRE OF MENANGKABAU.
ORIGIN OF THE MALAYS AND GENERAL ACCEPTATION OF NAME.
EVIDENCES OF THEIR MIGRATION FROM SUMATRA.
SUCCESSION OF MALAYAN PRINCES.
PRESENT STATE OF THE EMPIRE.
TITLES OF THE SULTAN.
CEREMONIES.
CONVERSION TO MAHOMETAN RELIGION.
LITERATURE.
ARTS.
WARFARE.
GOVERNMENT.
MALAYAN STATES.
ANCIENT EMPIRE OF MENANGKABAU.
ORIGIN OF THE MALAYS AND COMMON ACCEPTANCE OF NAME.
EVIDENCE OF THEIR MIGRATION FROM SUMATRA.
SUCCESSION OF MALAYAN PRINCES.
CURRENT STATUS OF THE EMPIRE.
TITLES OF THE SULTAN.
CEREMONIES.
CONVERSION TO ISLAM.
LITERATURE.
ARTS.
WARFARE.
GOVERNMENT.
MALAYAN STATES.
MALAYSIAN STATES.
I shall now take a more particular view of the Malayan states, as distinguished from those of the people termed orang ulu or countrymen, and orang dusun or villagers, who, not being generally converted to the Mahometan religion, have thereby preserved a more original character.
I will now take a closer look at the Malayan states, as different from those of the people known as orang ulu or countrymen, and orang dusun or villagers, who, since they generally haven't converted to Islam, have maintained a more traditional character.
EMPIRE OF MENANGKABAU.
Menangkabau Empire.
The principal government, and whose jurisdiction in ancient times is understood to have comprehended the whole of Sumatra, is Menangkabau,* situated under the equinoctial line, beyond the western range of high mountains, and nearly in the centre of the island; in which respect it differs from Malayan establishments in other parts, which are almost universally near the mouths of large rivers. The appellations however of orang menangkabau and orang malayo are so much identified that, previously to entering upon an account of the former, it will be useful to throw as much light as possible upon the latter, and to ascertain to what description of people the name of Malays, bestowed by Europeans upon all who resemble them in features and complexion, properly belongs.
The main government, which is believed to have included all of Sumatra in ancient times, is Menangkabau,* located just below the equator, beyond the western mountain range, and nearly in the center of the island. This sets it apart from Malay settlements in other areas, which are typically found near the mouths of large rivers. The names orang menangkabau and orang malayo are so closely linked that before discussing the former, it’s helpful to shed as much light as possible on the latter and to determine what group of people the name Malays, used by Europeans for anyone who resembles them in features and skin tone, truly refers to.
(*Footnote. The name is said to be derived from the words menang, signifying to win, and karbau, a buffalo; from a story, carrying a very fabulous air, of a famous engagement on that spot between the buffaloes and tigers, in which the former are stated to have acquired a complete victory. Such is the account the natives give; but they are fond of dealing in fiction, and the etymology has probably no better foundation than a fanciful resemblance of sound.)
(*Footnote. The name is believed to come from the words menang, which means to win, and karbau, meaning buffalo; based on a legendary tale about a famous battle at that location between buffaloes and tigers, where the buffaloes are said to have won decisively. This is the story the locals tell; however, they often enjoy telling tall tales, and the origin of the name likely has no more basis than a playful similarity in sound.)
ORIGIN OF MALAYS.
ORIGIN OF MALAYSIANS.
It has hitherto been considered as an obvious truth, and admitted without examination that, wherever they are found upon the numerous islands forming this archipelago, they or their ancestors must have migrated from the country named by Europeans (and by them alone) the Malayan peninsula or peninsula of Malacca, of which the indigenous and proper inhabitants were understood to be Malays; and accordingly in the former editions of this work I spoke of the natives of Menangkabau as having acquired their religion, language, manners, and other national characteristics from the settling among them of genuine Malays from the neighbouring continent. It will however appear from the authorities I shall produce, amounting as nearly to positive evidence as the nature of the subject will admit, that the present possessors of the coasts of the peninsula were on the contrary in the first instance adventurers from Sumatra, who in the twelfth century formed an establishment there, and that the indigenous inhabitants, gradually driven by them to the woods and mountains, so far from being the stock from whence the Malays were propagated, are an entirely different race of men, nearly approaching in their physical character to the negroes of Africa.
It has been considered a clear truth, accepted without question, that wherever they are found among the many islands of this archipelago, they or their ancestors must have migrated from the region known by Europeans (and only by them) as the Malayan peninsula or the peninsula of Malacca, with the original inhabitants understood to be Malays. Therefore, in previous editions of this work, I referred to the natives of Menangkabau as having acquired their religion, language, customs, and other national traits from genuine Malays settling among them from the nearby continent. However, the evidence I will present, which is as close to definitive as the nature of this subject allows, indicates that the current inhabitants of the peninsula actually originated as adventurers from Sumatra, who established a settlement there in the twelfth century. The indigenous people, gradually pushed into the forests and mountains by these newcomers, are not the ancestors from whom the Malays descended; rather, they belong to an entirely different race, physically resembling the black people of Africa.
MIGRATION FROM SUMATRA.
MIGRATION FROM SUMATRA.
The evidences of this migration from Sumatra are chiefly found in two Malayan books well known, by character at least, to those who are conversant with the written language, the one named Taju assalatin or Makuta segala raja-raja, The Crown of all Kings, and the other, more immediately to the purpose, Sulalat assalatin or Penurun-an segala rajaraja, The Descent of all (Malayan) Kings. Of these it has not been my good fortune to obtain copies, but the contents, so far as they apply to the present subject, have been fully detailed by two eminent Dutch writers to whom the literature of this part of the East was familiar. Petrus van der Worm first communicated the knowledge of these historical treatises in his learned Introduction to the Malayan Vocabulary of Gueynier, printed at Batavia in the year 1677; and extracts to the same effect were afterwards given by Valentyn in Volume 5 pages 316 to 320 of his elaborate work, published at Amsterdam in 1726. The books are likewise mentioned in a list of Malayan Authors by G.H. Werndly, at the end of his Maleische Spraak-kunst, and by the ingenious Dr. Leyden in his Paper on the Languages and Literature of the Indo-Chinese Nations, recently published in Volume 10 of the Asiatic Researches. The substance of the information conveyed by them is as follows; and I trust it will not be thought that the mixture of a portion of mythological fable in accounts of this nature invalidates what might otherwise have credit as historical fact. The utmost indeed we can pretend to ascertain is what the natives themselves believe to have been their ancient history; and it is proper to remark that in the present question there can be no suspicion of bias from national vanity, as we have reason to presume that the authors of these books were not Sumatrans.
The evidence of this migration from Sumatra primarily comes from two well-known Malay texts, at least to those familiar with the written language. One is called Taju assalatin or Makuta segala raja-raja, which means The Crown of all Kings, and the other, more relevant to our discussion, is Sulalat assalatin or Penurun-an segala rajaraja, meaning The Descent of all (Malayan) Kings. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to get copies of these books, but their content, as it relates to the current topic, has been thoroughly outlined by two distinguished Dutch scholars who were well-versed in this region's literature. Petrus van der Worm first shared insights about these historical texts in his scholarly Introduction to the Malayan Vocabulary of Gueynier, published in Batavia in 1677. Subsequent extracts were provided by Valentyn in Volume 5, pages 316 to 320 of his comprehensive work published in Amsterdam in 1726. These books are also mentioned in a list of Malay authors by G.H. Werndly at the end of his Maleische Spraak-kunst and by the insightful Dr. Leyden in his paper on the languages and literature of the Indo-Chinese nations, which was recently published in Volume 10 of the Asiatic Researches. The main information they provide is as follows, and I hope it’s not thought that the inclusion of some mythological elements in these accounts undermines their potential as historical facts. Ultimately, all we can ascertain is what the local people believe to be their ancient history; it's important to note that in this case, there’s no reason to suspect any bias stemming from national pride, as we can reasonably assume that the authors of these books were not from Sumatra.
The original country inhabited by the Malayan race (according to these authorities) was the kingdom of Palembang in the island of Indalus, now Sumatra, on the river Malayo, which flows by the mountain named Maha-meru, and discharges itself into the river Tatang (on which Palembang stands) before it joins the sea. Having chosen for their king or leader a prince named Sri Turi Buwana, who boasted his descent from Iskander the Great, and to whom, on that account, their natural chief Demang Lebar Daun submitted his authority, they emigrated, under his command (about the year 1160), to the south-eastern extremity of the opposite peninsula, named Ujong Tanah, where they were at first distinguished by the appellation of orang de-bawah angin or the Leeward people, but in time the coast became generally known by that of Tanah malayo or the Malayan land.
The original homeland of the Malayan people (according to these sources) was the kingdom of Palembang on the island of Indalus, now known as Sumatra, located along the Malayo River, which flows by the mountain called Maha-meru and empties into the Tatang River (where Palembang is situated) before it reaches the sea. They selected a prince named Sri Turi Buwana as their king or leader, who claimed to be a descendant of Alexander the Great, and because of this claim, their natural chief Demang Lebar Daun acknowledged his authority. Under his leadership, they migrated around the year 1160 to the southeastern tip of the opposite peninsula, known as Ujong Tanah, where they were initially referred to as orang de-bawah angin or the Leeward people, but over time the area became widely known as Tanah malayo or the Malayan land.
SINGAPURA BUILT.
SINGAPORE BUILT.
In this situation they built their first city, which they called Singapura (vulgarly Sincapore), and their rising consequence excited the jealousy of the kings of Maja-pahit, a powerful state in the island of Java. To Sri Turi Buwana, who died in 1208, succeeded Paduka Pikaram Wira, who reigned fifteen years; to him Sri Rama Vikaram, who reigned thirteen, and to him Sri Maharaja, who reigned twelve.
In this situation, they established their first city, which they named Singapura (commonly known as Singapore), and their growing importance sparked jealousy among the kings of Majapahit, a powerful state on the island of Java. Sri Turi Buwana, who died in 1208, was succeeded by Paduka Pikaram Wira, who ruled for fifteen years; next was Sri Rama Vikaram, who reigned for thirteen years, followed by Sri Maharaja, who ruled for twelve.
MALAKA BUILT.
MALAKA IS BUILT.
His successor, Sri Iskander Shah, was the last king of Singapura. During three years he withstood the forces of the king of Maja-pahit, but in 1252, being hard pressed, he retired first to the northward, and afterwards to the western, coast of the peninsula, where in the following year he founded a new city, which under his wise government became of considerable importance. To this he gave the name of Malaka, from a fruit-bearing tree so called (myrabolanum) found in abundance on the hill which gives natural strength to the situation. Having reigned here twenty-two years, beloved by his subjects and feared by his neighbours, Iskander Shah died in 1274, and was succeeded by Sultan Magat, who reigned only two years. Up to this period the Malayan princes were pagans. Sultan Muhammed Shah, who ascended the throne in 1276, was the first Mahometan prince, and by the propagation of this faith acquired great celebrity during a long reign of fifty-seven years. His influence appears to have extended over the neighbouring islands of Lingga and Bintan, together with Johor, Patani, Kedah, and Perak, on the coasts of the peninsula, and Campar and Aru in Sumatra; all of which acquired the appellative of Malayo, although it was now more especially applied to the people of Malaka, or, as it is commonly written, Malacca. He left the peaceful possession of his dominions to his son Sultan Abu Shahid, who had reigned only one year and five months when he was murdered in 1334 by the king of Arrakan, with whose family his father had contracted a marriage. His successor was Sultan Modafar or Mozafar Shah, who was distinguished for the wisdom of his government, of which he left a memorial in a Book of Institutes or Laws of Malaka, held to this day in high estimation. This city was now regarded as the third in rank (after Maja-pahit on Java, and Pase on Sumatra) in that part of the East.
His successor, Sri Iskander Shah, was the last king of Singapura. For three years, he held off the forces of the king of Majapahit, but in 1252, under heavy pressure, he retreated first to the north and then to the west coast of the peninsula, where in the following year he founded a new city. Under his wise leadership, this city gained significant importance. He named it Malaka, after a fruit-bearing tree (myrabolanum) that was plentiful on the hill that provided natural defense for the location. After reigning here for twenty-two years, beloved by his people and feared by his neighbors, Iskander Shah died in 1274 and was succeeded by Sultan Magat, who ruled for only two years. Until this point, the Malay princes were pagans. Sultan Muhammed Shah, who took the throne in 1276, was the first Muslim prince and gained great recognition during his long reign of fifty-seven years by spreading this faith. His influence extended over the nearby islands of Lingga and Bintan, as well as Johor, Patani, Kedah, and Perak on the peninsula's coasts, and Campar and Aru in Sumatra; all of which came to be referred to as Malayo, a term that became especially associated with the people of Malaka, commonly written as Malacca. He peacefully passed his dominions to his son Sultan Abu Shahid, who reigned for only one year and five months before being murdered in 1334 by the king of Arrakan, with whom his father had arranged a marriage. His successor was Sultan Modafar or Mozafar Shah, known for his wise governance, of which he left a legacy in a Book of Institutes or Laws of Malaka, still highly regarded today. At this time, this city was considered the third most important (after Majapahit in Java and Pase in Sumatra) in that part of the East.
(*Footnote. The account given by Juan de Barros of the abandonment of the Malayan city of Singapura and foundation of Malacca differs materially from the above; and although the authority of a writer, who collected his materials in Lisbon, cannot be put in competition with that of Valentyn, who passed a long and laborious life amongst the people, and quotes the native historians, I shall give an abstract of his relation, from the sixth book of the second Decade. "At the period when Cingapura flourished its king was named Sangesinga; and in the neighbouring island of Java reigned Pararisa, upon whose death the latter country became subject to the tyranny of his brother, who put one of his nephews to death, and forced many of the nobles, who took part against him, to seek refuge abroad. Among these was one named Paramisora, whom Sangesinga received with hospitality that was badly requited, for the stranger soon found means to put him to death, and, by the assistance of the Javans who accompanied him in his flight, to take possession of the city. The king of Siam, whose son-in-law and vassal the deceased was, assembled a large force by sea and land, and compelled the usurper to evacuate Cingapura with two thousand followers, a part of whom were Cellates (orang sellat men of the Straits) accustomed to live by fishing and piracy, who had assisted him in seizing and keeping the throne during five years. They disembarked at a place called Muar, a hundred and fifty leagues from thence, where Paramisora and his own people fortified themselves. The Cellates, whom he did not choose to trust, proceeded five leagues farther, and occupied a bank of the river where the fortress of Malacca now stands. Here they united with the half-savage natives, who like themselves spoke the Malayan language, and, the spot they had chosen becoming too confined for their increasing numbers, they moved a league higher up, to one more convenient, and were at length joined by their former chief and his companions. During the government of his son, named Xaquen Darxa (a strange Portuguese corruption of Iskander or Sekander Shah) they again descended the river, in order to enjoy the advantages of a sea-port, and built a town, which, from the fortunes of his father, was named Malacca, signifying an exile." Every person conversant with the language must know that the word does not bear that nor any similar meaning, and an error so palpable throws discredit on the whole narrative.)
(*Footnote. Juan de Barros's account of the abandonment of the Malayan city of Singapura and the founding of Malacca is quite different from the above. While a writer who gathered his information in Lisbon doesn't compare to Valentyn, who lived among the people and cites local historians, I will present a summary of Barros's version from the sixth book of the second Decade. "At the time when Singapura was thriving, its king was named Sangesinga; on the neighboring island of Java, Pararisa reigned. After his death, Pararisa's brother seized control, killing one of his nephews and forcing many nobles who opposed him into exile. Among them was a man named Paramisora, whom Sangesinga welcomed but was soon betrayed by; the stranger found a way to kill him and, with help from the Javanese who fled with him, took over the city. The king of Siam, whose deceased son-in-law was Pararisa, gathered a large army by sea and land and forced the usurper to leave Singapura with two thousand followers, some of whom were Cellates (orang sellat, men of the Straits) who lived by fishing and piracy, and had helped him hold the throne for five years. They landed at a place called Muar, a hundred and fifty leagues away, where Paramisora and his people fortified themselves. The Cellates, whom he didn’t trust, moved five leagues further and settled near the site of what is now Malacca. They teamed up with the semi-savage locals who spoke Malay like them, but as their numbers grew and the area became too cramped, they moved one league up to a more suitable location, eventually joined by their former leader and his companions. Under the leadership of his son, named Xaquen Darxa (a curious Portuguese corruption of Iskander or Sekander Shah), they moved back down the river to take advantage of a port and built a town named Malacca, referring to the fortune of his father, meaning 'exile.' Anyone familiar with the language knows that the word does not mean that or anything similar, and such a blatant error undermines the entire story.)
About the year 1340 the king of Siam, being jealous of the growing power of Malaka, invaded the country, and in a second expedition laid siege to the capital; but his armies were defeated by the general of Modafar, named Sri Nara Dirija. After these events Modafar reigned some years with much reputation, and died in 1374. His son, originally named Sultan Abdul, took the title of Sultan Mansur Shah upon his accession. At the time that the king of Maja-pahit drove the Malays from Singapura, as above related, he likewise subdued the country of Indragiri in Sumatra; but upon the occasion of Mansur Shah's marriage (about the year 1380) with the daughter of the then reigning king, a princess of great celebrity, named Radin Gala Chendra Kiran, it was assigned to him as her portion, and has since continued (according to Valentyn) under the dominion of the princes of Malaka. Mansur appears to have been engaged in continual wars, and to have obtained successes against Pahang, Pase, and Makasar. His reign extended to the almost incredible period of seventy-three years, being succeeded in 1447 by his son Sultan Ala-wa-eddin. During his reign of thirty years nothing particular is recorded; but there is reason to believe that his country during some part of that time was under the power of the Siamese. Sultan Mahmud Shah, who succeeded him, was the twelfth Malayan king, and the seventh and last king of Malaka.
Around 1340, the king of Siam, feeling threatened by the increasing power of Malaka, invaded the region. In a second campaign, he laid siege to the capital, but his armies were defeated by the general of Modafar, named Sri Nara Dirija. Following these events, Modafar ruled for several years with great reputation until his death in 1374. His son, initially named Sultan Abdul, took on the title of Sultan Mansur Shah upon becoming king. When the king of Majapahit drove the Malays out of Singapura, he also conquered the country of Indragiri in Sumatra. However, during Mansur Shah's marriage around 1380 to the then reigning king's daughter, a well-known princess named Radin Gala Chendra Kiran, Indragiri was assigned to him as her dowry and has since remained under the control of the princes of Malaka, according to Valentyn. Mansur seemed to be constantly engaged in wars, achieving victories against Pahang, Pase, and Makasar. His reign lasted an astonishing seventy-three years, and he was succeeded in 1447 by his son Sultan Ala-wa-eddin. During Ala-wa-eddin's thirty-year reign, not much is recorded, but there's reason to believe that parts of his country were under Siamese control at that time. Sultan Mahmud Shah, who succeeded him, was the twelfth Malayan king and the seventh and last king of Malaka.
JOHOR FOUNDED.
JOHOR ESTABLISHED.
In 1509 he repelled the aggression of the king of Siam; but in 1511 was conquered by the Portuguese under Alfonso d'Alboquerque, and forced, with the principal inhabitants, to fly to the neighbourhood of the first Malayan establishment at the extremity of the peninsula, where he founded the city of Johor, which still subsists, but has never attained to any considerable importance, owing as it may be presumed to the European influence that has ever since, under the Portuguese, Hollanders, and English, predominated in that quarter.*
In 1509, he defended against the king of Siam's aggression; however, in 1511, he was defeated by the Portuguese led by Alfonso d'Alboquerque. He, along with the main residents, had to escape to the area near the first Malay settlement at the southern tip of the peninsula, where he established the city of Johor. This city still exists today but has never become significantly important, likely due to the European influence that has dominated the region since, first under the Portuguese, then the Dutch, and later the English.*
(*Footnote. It was subdued by the Portuguese in 1608. In 1641 Malacca was taken from them by the Hollanders, who held it till the present war, which has thrown it into the possession of the English. The interior boundaries of its territory, according to the Transactions of the Batavian Society, are the mountains of Rombou, inhabited by a Malayan people named Maning Cabou, and Mount Ophir, called by the natives Gunong-Ledang. These limits, say they, it is impracticable for a European to pass, the whole coast, for some leagues from the sea, being either a morass or impenetrable forest; and these natural difficulties are aggravated by the treacherous and bloodthirsty character of the natives. The description, which will be found in Volume 4 pages 333 to 334, is evidently overcharged. In speaking of Johor the original emigration of a Malayan colony from Sumatra to the mouth of that river, which gave its name to the whole coast, is briefly mentioned.)
(*Footnote. The Portuguese subdued it in 1608. In 1641, the Dutch took Malacca from them and held it until the current war, which has transferred it to English control. According to the Transactions of the Batavian Society, the interior boundaries of its territory are defined by the Rombou mountains, home to a Malay group called Maning Cabou, and Mount Ophir, known to locals as Gunong-Ledang. They claim that it's nearly impossible for a European to navigate beyond these limits, as the entire coast for several leagues from the sea is either swampy or covered in impenetrable forest; these natural barriers are made worse by the deceptive and violent nature of the local people. The description found in Volume 4, pages 333 to 334, clearly exaggerates. When discussing Johor, it briefly mentions the original migration of a Malay colony from Sumatra to the mouth of that river, which named the entire coast.)
ANCIENT RELIGION.
OLD RELIGION.
With respect to the religion professed by the Malayan princes at the time of their migration from Sumatra, and for about 116 years after, little can be known, because the writers, whose works have reached us, lived since the period of conversion, and as good Mahometans would have thought it profane to enter into the detail of superstitions which they regard with abhorrence; but from the internal evidence we can entertain little doubt of its having been the religion of Brahma, much corrupted however and blended with the antecedent rude idolatry of the country, such as we now find it amongst the Battas. Their proper names or titles are obviously Hindu, with occasional mixture of Persian, and their mountain of Maha-meru, elsewhere so well known as the seat of Indra and the dewas, sufficiently points out the mythology adopted in the country. I am not aware that at the present day there is any mountain in Sumatra called by that name; but it is reasonable to presume that appellations decidedly connected with Paganism may have been changed by the zealous propagators of the new faith, and I am much inclined to believe that by the Maha-meru of the Malays is to be understood the mountain of Sungei-pagu in the Menangkabau country, from whence issue rivers that flow to both sides of the island. In the neighbourhood of this reside the chiefs of the four great tribes, called ampat suku or four quarters, one of which is named Malayo (the others, Kampi, Pani, and Tiga-lara); and it is probable that to it belonged the adventurers who undertook the expedition to Ujong Tanah, and perpetuated the name of their particular race in the rising fortunes of the new colony. From what circumstances they were led to collect their vessels for embarkation at Palembang rather than at Indragiri or Siak, so much more convenient in point of local position, cannot now be ascertained.
Regarding the religion practiced by the Malayan princes when they migrated from Sumatra, and for about 116 years after, not much is known because the writers who recorded this lived after the period of conversion. As devoted Muslims, they likely found it inappropriate to discuss the superstitions they detested. However, it’s reasonable to believe that their religion was that of Brahma, though it was significantly corrupted and mixed with the earlier crude idol worship of the region, which we still see among the Battas today. Their proper names or titles clearly have Hindu origins, with some Persian influence, and their mountain of Maha-meru, known elsewhere as the home of Indra and the gods, indicates the mythology adopted in the area. I’m not aware of any mountain currently named that in Sumatra, but it’s likely that names strongly linked to Paganism were changed by the enthusiastic spreaders of the new faith. I suspect that by Maha-meru, the Malays might be referring to the mountain of Sungei-pagu in the Menangkabau region, from which rivers flow to both sides of the island. Nearby live the leaders of the four major tribes known as ampat suku or four quarters, one of which is called Malayo (with the others being Kampi, Pani, and Tiga-lara). It’s likely that the adventurers who embarked on the journey to Ujong Tanah were from this group, as they preserved the name of their specific community in the growing success of the new colony. We can’t determine why they chose to gather their ships for departure in Palembang rather than at Indragiri or Siak, which would have been much more convenient geographically.
Having proposed some queries upon this subject to the late Mr. Francis Light, who first settled the island of Pinang or Prince of Wales island, in the Straits of Malacca, granted to him by the king of Kedah as the marriage portion of his daughter, he furnished me in answer with the following notices. "The origin of the Malays, like that of other people, is involved in fable; every raja is descended from some demigod, and the people sprung from the ocean. According to their traditions however their first city of Singapura, near the present Johor, was peopled from Palembang, from whence they proceeded to settle at Malacca (naming their city from the fruit so called), and spread along the coast. The peninsula is at present inhabited by distinct races of people. The Siamese possess the northern part to latitude 7 degrees, extending from the east to the west side. The Malays possess the whole of the sea-coast on both sides, from that latitude to Point Romania; being mixed in some places with the Bugis from Celebes, who have still a small settlement at Salmigor. The inland parts to the northward are inhabited by the Patani people, who appear to be a mixture of Siamese and Malays, and occupy independent dusuns or villages. Among the forests and in the mountains are a race of Caffres, in every respect resembling those of Africa excepting in stature, which does not exceed four feet eight inches. The Menangkabau people of the peninsula are so named from an inland country in Pulo Percha (Sumatra). A distinction is made between them and the Malays of Johor, but none is perceptible."
Having asked some questions about this topic to the late Mr. Francis Light, who was the first to settle on the island of Penang (also known as Prince of Wales Island) in the Straits of Malacca, granted to him by the king of Kedah as part of his daughter's dowry, he provided me with the following information. "The origin of the Malays, like that of other peoples, is shrouded in myth; every raja claims descent from some demigod, and the people originated from the ocean. According to their traditions, their first city, Singapura, near modern-day Johor, was populated by people from Palembang, who then moved to Malacca (naming their city after the fruit) and spread along the coast. The peninsula is currently home to distinct races of people. The Siamese occupy the northern part up to latitude 7 degrees, extending from the eastern to the western side. The Malays inhabit the entire coastline on both sides from that latitude to Point Romania, and are combined in some areas with the Bugis from Celebes, who still have a small settlement at Salmigore. The inland areas to the north are home to the Patani people, who appear to be a mix of Siamese and Malays, each living in independent dusuns or villages. Among the forests and mountains live a group resembling the Caffres of Africa, except they do not exceed four feet eight inches in height. The Menangkabau people of the peninsula get their name from an inland region in Pulo Percha (Sumatra). There is a distinction between them and the Malays of Johor, though none is noticeable."
To these authorities I shall add that of Mr. Thomas Raffles, at this time Secretary to the government of Pulo Pinang, a gentleman whose intelligence and zeal in the pursuit of knowledge give the strongest hope of his becoming an ornament to oriental literature. To his correspondence I am indebted for much useful information in the line of my researches, and the following passages corroborate the opinions I had formed. "With respect to the Menangkabaus, after a good deal of inquiry, I have not yet been able decidedly to ascertain the relation between those of that name in the peninsula and the Menangkabaus of Pulo Percha. The Malays affirm without hesitation that they all came originally from the latter island." In a recent communication he adds, "I am more confident than ever that the Menangkabaus of the peninsula derive their origin from the country of that name in Sumatra. Inland of Malacca about sixty miles is situated the Malay kingdom of Rumbo, whose sultan and all the principal officers of state hold their authority immediately from Menangkabau, and have written commissions for their respective offices. This shows the extent of that ancient power even now, reduced as it must be, in common with that of the Malay people in general. I had many opportunities of communicating with the natives of Rumbo, and they have clearly a peculiar dialect, resembling exactly what you mention of substituting the final o for a, as in the word ambo for amba. In fact, the dialect is called by the Malacca people the language of Menangkabau."
To these authorities, I will add Mr. Thomas Raffles, who is currently the Secretary to the government of Pulo Pinang. He is a gentleman whose intelligence and enthusiasm for knowledge give me strong hope that he will become a valuable contributor to oriental literature. I owe a lot of useful information in my research to his correspondence, and the following excerpts support the opinions I've formed. "Regarding the Menangkabaus, after considerable inquiry, I have not yet been able to clearly determine the relationship between those in the peninsula and the Menangkabaus of Pulo Percha. The Malays assert without hesitation that they all originally came from that latter island." In a recent communication, he adds, "I am now more confident than ever that the Menangkabaus of the peninsula trace their origin back to the region of that name in Sumatra. About sixty miles inland from Malacca is the Malay kingdom of Rumbo, where the sultan and all the key officials derive their authority directly from Menangkabau and have written commissions for their respective positions. This illustrates how extensive that ancient power remains, even though it has diminished, along with that of the Malay people in general. I had many chances to interact with the natives of Rumbo, and they clearly have a distinct dialect that closely resembles what you mentioned about substituting the final 'o' for 'a', as in the word 'ambo' for 'amba'. In fact, the dialect is referred to by the people of Malacca as the language of Menangkabau."
HISTORY OF MENANGKABAU IMPERFECTLY KNOWN.
HISTORY OF MENANGKABAU NOT WELL-KNOWN.
Returning from this discussion I shall resume the consideration of what is termed the Sumatran empire of Menangkabau, believed by the natives of all descriptions to have subsisted from the remotest times. With its annals, either ancient or modern, we are little acquainted, and the existence of any historical records in the country has generally been doubted; yet, as those of Malacca and of Achin have been preserved, it is not hastily to be concluded that these people, who are the equals of the former, and much superior to the latter in point of literature, are destitute of theirs, although they have not reached our hands. It is known that they deduce their origin from two brothers, named Perapati-si-batang and Kei Tamanggungan, who are described as being among the forty companions of Noah in the ark, and whose landing at Palembang, or at a small island near it, named Langkapura, is attended with the circumstance of the dry land being first discovered by the resting upon it of a bird that flew from the vessel. From thence they proceeded to the mountain named Siguntang-guntang, and afterwards to Priangan in the neighbourhood of the great volcano, which at this day is spoken of as the ancient capital of Menangkabau. Unfortunately I possess only an imperfect abstract of this narrative, obviously intended for an introduction to the genealogy of its kings, but, even as a fable, extremely confused and unsatisfactory; and when the writer brings it down to what may be considered as the historical period he abruptly leaves off, with a declaration that the offer of a sum of money (which was unquestionably his object) should not tempt him to proceed.
Returning from this discussion, I will continue the exploration of what’s referred to as the Sumatran empire of Menangkabau, which the locals believe has existed since ancient times. We know little about its history, whether ancient or modern, and there is general skepticism about the existence of any historical records in the area; however, since records from Malacca and Achin have been preserved, we shouldn’t quickly conclude that these people, who are equal to Malacca and much more advanced in terms of literature than Achin, lack their own records, even if we haven't seen them. It is known that they trace their origins back to two brothers named Perapati-si-batang and Kei Tamanggungan, said to be among the forty companions of Noah in the ark. Their arrival in Palembang, or a nearby small island called Langkapura, began when a bird from the ark landed on dry land, signaling its discovery. From there, they traveled to the mountain called Siguntang-guntang and then to Priangan near the great volcano, which is now regarded as the ancient capital of Menangkabau. Unfortunately, I only have an incomplete summary of this story, which clearly was meant to introduce the genealogy of its kings. Even as a myth, it is quite disorganized and unsatisfactory, and when the writer gets to what could be considered the historical period, he abruptly stops, claiming that the promise of a sum of money (which was clearly his goal) shouldn't tempt him to continue.
LIMITS.
LIMITS.
At a period not very remote its limits were included between the river of Palembang and that of Siak, on the eastern side of the island, and on the western side between those of Manjuta (near Indrapura) and Singkel, where (as well as at Siak) it borders on the independent country of the Battas. The present seat, or more properly seats, of the divided government lie at the back of a mountainous district named the Tiga-blas koto (signifying the thirteen fortified and confederated towns) inland of the settlement of Padang. The country is described as a large plain surrounded by hills producing much gold, clear of woods, and comparatively well cultivated. Although nearer to the western coast its communications with the eastern side are much facilitated by water-carriage.
Not long ago, its boundaries stretched from the Palembang River to the Siak River on the eastern side of the island, and on the western side from the Manjuta River (near Indrapura) to the Singkel River, which borders the independent territory of the Battas at both Siak and Singkel. The current government, which is split into different seats, is located in a hilly area called Tiga-blas koto (meaning the thirteen fortified and allied towns) inland from the settlement of Padang. The region is described as a vast plain surrounded by hills, rich in gold, mostly clear of forests, and relatively well-cultivated. While it is closer to the western coast, the connections to the eastern side are greatly enhanced by waterways.
LAKE.
LAKE.
Advantage is taken in the first place of a large lake, called Laut-danau, situated at the foot of the range of high mountains named gunong Besi, inland of the country of Priaman, the length of which is described by some as being equal to a day's sailing, and by others as no more than twenty-five or thirty miles, abounding with fish (especially of two species, known by the names of sasau and bili), and free from alligators.
The main feature is a large lake called Laut-danau, located at the base of the high mountain range known as Gunong Besi, inland from the country of Priaman. Some describe the lake's length as equal to a day's sailing, while others say it's only about twenty-five to thirty miles long. The lake is full of fish, especially two species known as sasau and bili, and there are no alligators.
RIVERS.
Rivers.
From this, according to the authority of a map drawn by a native, issues a river called Ayer Ambelan, which afterwards takes the name of Indragiri, along which, as well as the two other great rivers of Siak to the northward, and Jambi to the southward, the navigation is frequent, the banks of all of them being peopled with Malayan colonies. Between Menangkabau and Palembang the intercourse must, on account of the distance, be very rare, and the assertion that in the intermediate country there exists another great lake, which sends its streams to both sides of the island, appears not only to be without foundation in fact, but also at variance with the usual operations of nature; as I believe it may be safely maintained that, however numerous the streams which furnish the water of a lake, it can have only one outlet; excepting, perhaps, in flat countries, where the course of the waters has scarcely any determination, or under such a nice balance of physical circumstances as is not likely to occur.
From this, based on a map made by a local, a river called Ayer Ambelan comes up, which later becomes known as Indragiri. Along with the two other major rivers, Siak to the north and Jambi to the south, navigation is common, with Malayan communities lining the banks of all of them. The trade between Menangkabau and Palembang must be quite rare due to the distance, and the claim that there is another large lake in the area that sends its waters to both sides of the island seems not only unfounded but also contradicts natural patterns; I believe it can be confidently said that, regardless of how many streams feed a lake, it can only have one outlet, except maybe in flat lands where the water flow is unclear, or in very specific conditions that are unlikely to happen.
POLITICAL DECLINE.
Political decline.
When the island was first visited by European navigators this state must have been in its decline, as appears from the political importance at that period of the kings of Achin, Pedir, and Pase, who, whilst they acknowledged their authority to be derived from him as their lord paramount, and some of them paid him a trifling complimentary tribute, acted as independent sovereigns. Subsequently to this an Achinese monarch, under the sanction of a real or pretended grant, obtained from one of the sultans, who, having married his daughter, treated her with nuptial slight, and occasioned her to implore her father's interference, extended his dominion along the western coast, and established his panglimas or governors in many places within the territory of Menangkabau, particularly at Priaman, near the great volcano-mountain. This grant is said to have been extorted not by the force of arms but by an appeal to the decision of some high court of justice similar to that of the imperial chamber in Germany, and to have included all the low or strand-countries (pasisir barat) as far southward as Bengkaulu or Silebar. About the year 1613 however he claimed no farther than Padang, and his actual possessions reached only to Barus.*
When European navigators first visited the island, it was clearly in decline, as evidenced by the political significance of the kings of Achin, Pedir, and Pase at that time. While they acknowledged their authority as derived from him as their ultimate lord, and some of them paid him a small tribute as a formality, they acted like independent rulers. Later on, an Achinese king, with either a real or fake grant from one of the sultans—who had married his daughter and treated her poorly, prompting her to ask for her father's help—extended his control along the western coast and established his governors, or panglimas, in several areas within Menangkabau territory, especially at Priaman, near the large volcano. This grant is said to have been obtained not through military force but by appealing to a high court of justice similar to the imperial chamber in Germany, covering all the low or coastal areas (pasisir barat) all the way down to Bengkaulu or Silebar. However, around 1613, he claimed authority only as far as Padang, and his actual lands extended merely to Barus.*
(*Footnote. The following instances occur of mention made by writers at different periods of the kingdom of Menangkabau. ODOARDUS BARBOSA, 1519. "Sumatra, a most large and beautiful island; Pedir, the principal city on the northern side, where are also Pacem and Achem. Campar is opposite to Malacca. Monancabo, to the southward, is the principal source of gold, as well from mines as collected in the banks of the rivers." DE BARROS, 1553. "Malacca had the epithet of aurea given to it on account of the abundance of gold brought from Monancabo and Barros, countries in the island of Camatra, where it is procured." DIOGO de COUTO, 1600. "He gives an account of a Portuguese ship wrecked on the coast of Sumatra, near to the country of Manancabo, in 1560. Six hundred persons got on shore, among whom were some women, one of them, Dona Francisca Sardinha, was of such remarkable beauty that the people of the country resolved to carry her off for their king; and they effected it, after a struggle in which sixty of the Europeans lost their lives. At this period there was a great intercourse between Manancabo and Malacca, many vessels going yearly with gold to purchase cotton goods and other merchandise. In ancient times the country was so rich in this metal that several hundredweight (seis, sete, e mais candiz, de que trez fazem hum moyo) were exported in one season. Volume 3 page 178. LINSCHOTEN, 1601. "At Menancabo excellent poniards made, called creeses; best weapons of all the orient. Islands along the coast of Sumatra, called islands of Menancabo." ARGENSOLA, 1609. "A vessel loaded with creeses manufactured at Menancabo and a great quantity of artillery; a species of warlike machine known and fabricated in Sumatra many years before they were introduced by Europeans." LANCASTER, 1602. "Menangcabo lies eight or ten leagues inland of Priaman." BEST, 1613. " A man arrived from Menangcaboo at Ticoo, and brought news from Jambee." BEAULIEU, 1622. "Du cote du ponant apres Padang suit le royaume de Manimcabo; puis celuy d'Andripoura-Il y a (a Jambi) grand trafic d'or, qu'ils ont avec ceux de Manimcabo." Vies des Gouverneurs Gen. Hollandois, 1763. Il est bon de remarquer ici que presque toute la cote occidentale avoit ete reduite par la flotte du Sieur Pierre de Bitter en 1664. L'annee suivante, les habitans de Pauw massacrerent le Commissaire Gruis, etc.; mais apres avoir venge ce meurtre, et dissipe les revoltes en 1666, les Hollandois etoient restes les maitres de toute cette etendue de cotes entre Sillebar et Baros, ou ils etablirent divers comptoirs, dont celui de Padang est le principal depuis 1667. Le commandant, qui y reside, est en meme temps Stadhouder (Lieutenant) de l'Empereur de Maningcabo, a qui la Compagnie a cede, sous diverses restrictions & limitations, la souverainete sur tous les peuples qui babitent le long du rivage" etc.)
(*Footnote. The following references are made by writers from different periods about the kingdom of Menangkabau. ODOARDUS BARBOSA, 1519. "Sumatra, a very large and beautiful island; Pedir, the main city on the northern side, along with Pacem and Achem. Campar is across from Malacca. Monancabo, to the south, is the main source of gold, both from mines and collected from the riverbanks." DE BARROS, 1553. "Malacca was called aurea because of the abundance of gold brought from Monancabo and Barros, regions in the island of Camatra, where it is obtained." DIOGO de COUTO, 1600. "He describes a Portuguese ship that sank on the coast of Sumatra, near the territory of Manancabo, in 1560. Six hundred people made it ashore, among whom were some women, one of whom, Dona Francisca Sardinha, was so exceptionally beautiful that the locals decided to take her for their king; they succeeded after a struggle in which sixty Europeans lost their lives. During this time, there was significant trade between Manancabo and Malacca, with many ships traveling yearly with gold to purchase cotton goods and other merchandise. In ancient times, the country was so rich in this metal that several hundredweight (seis, sete, e mais candiz, de que trez fazem hum moyo) were exported in a single season. Volume 3 page 178. LINSCHOTEN, 1601. "At Menancabo, excellent daggers called creeses are made; they are the best weapons in the East. Islands along the coast of Sumatra are called the islands of Menancabo." ARGENSOLA, 1609. "A ship loaded with creeses manufactured in Menancabo and a large quantity of artillery; a type of war machine known and made in Sumatra long before being introduced by Europeans." LANCASTER, 1602. "Menangcabo is located eight or ten leagues inland from Priaman." BEST, 1613. "A man from Menangcaboo arrived in Ticoo and brought news from Jambee." BEAULIEU, 1622. "On the western side, after Padang, follows the kingdom of Manimcabo; then that of Andripoura—there is a significant trade in gold with those from Manimcabo." Vies des Gouverneurs Gen. Hollandois, 1763. It is worth noting that almost the entire western coast was subdued by the fleet of Mr. Pierre de Bitter in 1664. The following year, the people of Pauw massacred Commissioner Gruis, etc.; but after avenging this murder and quelling the revolts in 1666, the Dutch remained the rulers of this extensive coastline between Sillebar and Baros, where they established various trading posts, with Padang being the main one since 1667. The commander residing there is at the same time the Stadhouder (Lieutenant) of the Emperor of Maningcabo, to whom the Company has ceded, under various restrictions & limitations, sovereignty over all the peoples living along the coast," etc.)
DIVISION OF THE GOVERNMENT.
GOVERNMENT DIVISION.
In consequence of disturbances that ensued upon the death of a sultan Alif in the year 1680, without direct heirs, the government became divided amongst three chiefs, presumed to have been of the royal family and at the same time great officers of state, who resided at places named Suruwasa, Pagar-ruyong, and Sungei-trap; and in that state it continues to the present time. Upon the capture of Padang by the English in 1781 deputations arrived from two of these chiefs with congratulations upon the success of our arms; which will be repeated with equal sincerity to those who may chance to succeed us. The influence of the Dutch (and it would have been the same with any other European power) has certainly contributed to undermine the political consequence of Menangkabau by giving countenance and support to its disobedient vassals, who in their turn have often experienced the dangerous effects of receiving favours from too powerful an ally. Pasaman, a populous country, and rich in gold, cassia, and camphor, one of its nearest provinces, and governed by a panglima from thence, now disclaims all manner of dependence. Its sovereignty is divided between the two rajas of Sabluan and Kanali, who, in imitation of their former masters, boast an origin of high antiquity. One of them preserves as his sacred relic the bark of a tree in which his ancestor was nursed in the woods before the Pasaman people had reached their present polished state. The other, to be on a level with him, possesses the beard of a reverend predecessor (perhaps an anchorite), which was so bushy that a large bird had built its nest in it. Raja Kanali supported a long war with the Hollanders, attended with many reverses of fortune.
Following the disturbances that arose after Sultan Alif died in 1680 without any direct heirs, the government became divided among three leaders, believed to be from the royal family and also significant state officials, who lived in places called Suruwasa, Pagar-ruyong, and Sungei-trap; and this situation continues to this day. When the English captured Padang in 1781, delegates from two of these leaders came with congratulations on our military success, which will be equally heartfelt for those who come after us. The influence of the Dutch (and it would have been the same with any other European power) has certainly helped weaken the political power of Menangkabau by supporting its rebellious vassals, who have often faced the risky consequences of depending on a too-powerful ally. Pasaman, a populous region rich in gold, cassia, and camphor, one of its nearby provinces, is now governed by a panglima from there and claims to be independent. Its sovereignty is split between the two rajas of Sabluan and Kanali, who, like their former rulers, brag about their ancient lineage. One of them keeps as a sacred relic the bark of a tree that his ancestor was nursed in during the time before the Pasaman people reached their current refined state. The other, to match him, has the beard of a revered predecessor (possibly a hermit) that was so bushy a large bird built its nest in it. Raja Kanali led a long war against the Dutch, facing many ups and downs along the way.
Whether the three sultans maintain a struggle of hostile rivalship, or act with an appearance of concert, as holding the nominal sovereignty under a species of joint-regency, I am not informed, but each of them in the preamble of his letters assumes all the royal titles, without any allusion to competitors; and although their power and resources are not much beyond those of a common raja they do not fail to assert all the ancient rights and prerogatives of the empire, which are not disputed so long as they are not attempted to be carried into force. Pompous dictatorial edicts are issued and received by the neighbouring states (including the European chiefs of Padang), with demonstration of profound respect, but no farther obeyed than may happen to consist with the political interests of the parties to whom they are addressed. Their authority in short resembles not a little that of the sovereign pontiffs of Rome during the latter centuries, founded as it is in the superstition of remote ages; holding terrors over the weak, and contemned by the stronger powers. The district of Suruwasa, containing the site of the old capital, or Menangkabau proper, seems to have been considered by the Dutch as entitled to a degree of pre-eminence; but I have not been able to discover any marks of superiority or inferiority amongst them. In distant parts the schism is either unknown, or the three who exercise the royal functions are regarded as co-existing members of the same family, and their government, in the abstract, however insignificant in itself, is there an object of veneration. Indeed to such an unaccountable excess is this carried that every relative of the sacred family, and many who have no pretensions to it assume that character, are treated wherever they appear, not only with the most profound respect by the chiefs who go out to meet them, fire salutes on their entering the dusuns, and allow them to level contributions for their maintenance; but by the country people with such a degree of superstitious awe that they submit to be insulted, plundered, and even wounded by them, without making resistance, which they would esteem a dangerous profanation. Their appropriate title (not uncommon in other Malayan countries) is Iang de per-tuan, literally signifying he who ruleth.
Whether the three sultans are engaged in a bitter rivalry or pretending to work together while sharing nominal sovereignty under a kind of joint-regency, I can't say. However, each of them claims all royal titles in the preamble of their letters without mentioning any competitors. Although their power and resources are not much greater than those of a common raja, they still assert all the ancient rights and privileges of the empire, which go unchallenged as long as they aren't attempted to be enforced. Grand, dictatorial edicts are issued and accepted by neighboring states (including the European leaders of Padang) with deep respect, but they are only obeyed as far as aligns with the political interests of those they are addressed to. In short, their authority resembles that of the sovereign pontiffs of Rome in later centuries, grounded in the superstition of ancient times; it instills fear in the weak while being disregarded by stronger powers. The district of Suruwasa, which includes the site of the old capital, or Menangkabau proper, seems to have been viewed by the Dutch as deserving a certain degree of prominence, but I haven’t been able to find any signs of superiority or inferiority among them. In remote areas, the split is either unknown or the three who carry out royal functions are seen as co-existing members of the same family, and while their governance might be insignificant in practice, it is still an object of respect there. In fact, this reverence is taken to such an unreasonable extent that every relative of the sacred family, as well as many who claim no such connection, are treated with extreme respect whenever they appear. Local chiefs go out to meet them, fire salutes as they enter the dusuns, and allow them to collect contributions for their support. The local villagers regard them with a degree of superstitious fear, risking insult, robbery, or even injury at their hands without resisting, as opposing them would be seen as a serious violation. Their title (not uncommon in other Malayan countries) is Iang de per-tuan, which literally means "he who rules."
A person of this description, who called himself Sri Ahmed Shah, heir to the empire of Menangkabau, in consequence of some differences with the Dutch, came and settled amongst the English at Bencoolen in the year 1687, on his return from a journey to the southward as far as Lampong, and being much respected by the people of the country gained the entire confidence of Mr. Bloom, the governor. He subdued some of the neighbouring chiefs who were disaffected to the English, particularly Raja mudo of Sungei-lamo, and also a Jennang or deputy from the king of Bantam; he coined money, established a market, and wrote a letter to the East India Company promising to put them in possession of the trade of the whole island. But shortly afterwards a discovery was made of his having formed a design to cut off the settlement, and he was in consequence driven from the place. The records mention at a subsequent period that the sultan of Indrapura was raising troops to oppose him.*
A person like this, who called himself Sri Ahmed Shah, the heir to the Menangkabau empire, settled among the English in Bencoolen in 1687 after some disagreements with the Dutch. He had just returned from a journey south to Lampong and earned a lot of respect from the local people, which gained him the full trust of Mr. Bloom, the governor. He subdued some neighboring chiefs who were unhappy with the English, especially Raja Mudo of Sungei-lamo, as well as a Jennang or deputy from the king of Bantam. He minted money, set up a market, and sent a letter to the East India Company promising to give them control over the island's trade. However, it was soon discovered that he had plans to take over the settlement, and as a result, he was driven away. Later records note that the sultan of Indrapura was raising troops to oppose him.*
(*Footnote. The following anecdote of one of these personages was communicated to me by my friend, the late Mr. Crisp. "Some years ago, when I was resident of Manna, there was a man who had long worked in the place as a coolie when someone arrived from the northward, who happened to discover that he was an Iang de per-tuan or relation of the imperial family. Immediately all the bazaar united to raise him to honour and independence; he was never suffered to walk without a high umbrella carried over him, was followed by numerous attendants, and addressed by the title of tuanku, equivalent to your highness. After this he became an intriguing, troublesome fellow in the Residency, and occasioned much annoyance. The prejudice in favour of these people is said to extend over all the islands to the eastward where the Malay tongue is spoken.")
(*Footnote. I received the following story about one of these individuals from my friend, the late Mr. Crisp. "A few years ago, when I lived in Manna, there was a man who had worked there for a long time as a laborer until someone from the north discovered that he was an Iang de per-tuan, or a relative of the imperial family. Immediately, everyone in the bazaar came together to elevate him to a position of honor and independence; he was never allowed to walk without a large umbrella held over him, was followed by many attendants, and was addressed as tuanku, meaning your highness. After this, he turned into a meddlesome and troublesome person in the Residency, causing a lot of annoyance. It's said that the bias in favor of these individuals exists throughout all the islands to the east where the Malay language is spoken.")
HIS TITLES.
His Titles.
The titles and epithets assumed by the sultans are the most extravagantly absurd that it is possible to imagine. Many of them descend to mere childishness; and it is difficult to conceive how any people, so far advanced in civilization as to be able to write, could display such evidences of barbarism. A specimen of a warrant of recent date, addressed to Tuanku Sungei-Pagu, a high-priest residing near Bencoolen, is as follows:
The titles and nicknames taken by the sultans are incredibly ridiculous, beyond imagination. Many of them are downright childish, and it's hard to understand how a society that has made such progress in civilization, enough to write, could show such signs of savagery. An example of a recent warrant addressed to Tuanku Sungei-Pagu, a high priest living near Bencoolen, is as follows:
Three circular Seals with inscriptions in Arabic characters.
Three circular seals with inscriptions in Arabic characters.
(Eldest brother) Sultan of Rum. Key Dummul Alum. Maharaja Alif.
(Eldest brother) Sultan of Rum. Key Dummul Alum. Maharaja Alif.
(Second brother) Sultan of China. Nour Alum. Maharaja Dempang or Dipang.
(Second brother) Sultan of China. Nour Alum. Maharaja Dempang or Dipang.
(Youngest brother) Sultan of Menangkabau. Aour Alum. Maharaja Dirja or Durja.
(Youngest brother) Sultan of Menangkabau. Aour Alum. Maharaja Dirja or Durja.
TRANSLATION OF A WARRANT.
Warrant Translation.
The sultan of Menangkabau, whose residence is at Pagar-ruyong, who is king of kings; a descendant of raja Iskander zu'lkarnaini; possessed of the crown brought from heaven by the prophet Adam; of a third part of the wood kamat, one extremity of which is in the kingdom of Rum and another in that of China; of the lance named lambing lambura ornamented with the beard of janggi; of the palace in the city of Rum, whose entertainments and diversions are exhibited in the month of zul'hijah, and where all alims, fakiahs, and mulanakaris praise and supplicate Allah; possessor of the gold-mine named kudarat-kudarati, which yields pure gold of twelve carats, and of the gold named jati-jati which snaps the dalik wood; of the sword named churak-simandang-giri, which received one hundred and ninety gaps in conflict with the fiend Si Katimuno, whom it slew; of the kris formed of the soul of steel, which expresses an unwillingness at being sheathed and shows itself pleased when drawn; of a date coeval with the creation; master of fresh water in the ocean, to the extent of a day's sailing; of a lance formed of a twig of iju ; the sultan who receives his taxes in gold by the lessong measure; whose betel-stand is of gold set with diamonds; who is possessor of the web named sangsista kala, which weaves itself and adds one thread yearly, adorned with pearls, and when that web shall be completed the world will be no more; of horses of the race of sorimborani, superior to all others; of the mountain Si guntang-guntang, which divides Palembang and Jambi, and of the burning mountain; of the elephant named Hasti Dewah; who is vicegerent of heaven; sultan of the golden river; lord of the air and clouds; master of a ballei whose pillars are of the shrub jalatang; of gandarangs (drums) made of the hollow stems of the diminutive plants pulut and silosuri; of the anchor named paduka jati employed to recover the crown which fell into the deep sea of Kulzum; of the gong that resounds to the skies; of the buffalo named Si Binuwang Sati, whose horns are ten feet asunder; of the unconquered cock, Sengunani; of the coconut-tree which, from its amazing height and being infested with serpents and other noxious reptiles, it is impossible to climb; of the blue champaka flower, not to be found in any other country than his (being yellow elsewhere); of the flowering shrub named Srimenjeri, of ambrosial scent; of the mountain on which the celestial spirits dwell; who when he goes to rest wakes not until the gandarang nobat sounds; He the sultan Sri Maharaja Durja furthermore declares, etc.*
The sultan of Menangkabau, whose home is at Pagar-ruyong, is the king of kings, a descendant of Raja Iskander zu'lkarnaini. He possesses a crown that was brought down from heaven by the prophet Adam, along with a third of the kamat wood, one end of which is in the kingdom of Rum and the other in China. He owns the lance called lambing lambura, adorned with the beard of janggi; the palace in the city of Rum, where events and entertainment are held in the month of Zul'hijah, and where all scholars, religious leaders, and teachers praise and pray to Allah. He has the gold mine known as kudarat-kudarati, yielding pure gold of twelve carats, and the gold called jati-jati, which can break dalik wood. He wields the sword named churak-simandang-giri, which sustained one hundred and ninety gashes while battling the demon Si Katimuno, whom it defeated. He possesses a kris made from the spirit of steel, which resists being sheathed and seems happy when drawn. He has a date palm that dates back to creation, the right over fresh water in the ocean extending a day's sail, and a lance crafted from a twig of iju. The sultan collects his taxes in gold by the lessong measure; his betel-stand is made of gold set with diamonds. He holds the web called sangsista kala, which weaves itself, adding one thread each year, adorned with pearls, and when that web is complete, the world will come to an end. He has horses of the sorimborani breed, superior to all others, and the mountain Si guntang-guntang, which separates Palembang and Jambi, in addition to the burning mountain; he commands the elephant named Hasti Dewah. He is the vicegerent of heaven, the sultan of the golden river, the lord of the air and clouds, and the master of a balai with pillars made from the jalatang shrub. He has drums (gandarangs) made from the hollow stems of the small pulut and silosuri plants, an anchor named paduka jati used to retrieve the crown that fell into the deep sea of Kulzum, and a gong that echoes to the skies. He owns the buffalo Si Binuwang Sati, whose horns are ten feet apart, the undefeated rooster Sengunani, and a coconut tree so tall and infested with snakes and other dangerous reptiles that it cannot be climbed. He possesses the blue champaka flower, unique to his land (which is yellow in other places), the fragrant flowering shrub Srimenjeri, and the mountain where celestial spirits dwell. He doesn’t wake until the gandarang nobat sounds when he goes to rest. He, the sultan Sri Maharaja Durja, furthermore declares, etc.*
(*Footnote. The following Letter from the sultan of Menangkabau to the father of the present sultan of Moco-moco, and apparently written about fifty years ago, was communicated to me by Mr. Alexander Dalrymple, and though it is in part a repetition I esteem it too curious to hesitate about inserting it. The style is much more rational than that of the foregoing. "Praised be Almighty God! Sultan Gagar Alum the great and noble King, whose extensive power reacheth unto the limits of the wide ocean; unto whom God grants whatever he desires, and over whom no evil spirit, nor even Satan himself has any influence; who is invested with an authority to punish evil-doers; and has the most tender heart in the support of the innocent; has no malice in his mind, but preserveth the righteous with the greatest reverence, and nourisheth the poor and needy, feeding them daily from his own table. His authority reacheth over the whole universe, and his candour and goodness is known to all men. (Mention made of the three brothers.) The ambassador of God and his prophet Mahomet; the beloved of mankind; and ruler of the island called Percho. At the time God made the heavens, the earth, the sun, the moon, and even before evil spirits were created, this sultan Gagar Alum had his residence in the clouds; but when the world was habitable God gave him a bird called Hocinet, that had the gift of speech; this he sent down on earth to look out for a spot where he might establish an inheritance, and the first place he alighted upon was the fertile island of Lankapura, situated between Palembang and Jambi, and from thence sprang the famous kingdom of Manancabow, which will be renowned and mighty until the Judgment Day."This Maha Raja Durja is blessed with a long life and an uninterrupted course of prosperity, which he will maintain in the name, and through the grace of the holy prophet, to the end that God's divine Will may be fulfilled upon earth. He is endowed with the highest abilities, and the most profound wisdom and circumspection in governing the many tributary kings and subjects. He is righteous and charitable, and preserveth the honour and glory of his ancestors. His justice and clemency are felt in distant regions, and his name will be revered until the last day. When he openeth his mouth he is full of goodness, and his words are as grateful as rosewater to the thirsty. His breath is like the soft winds of the heavens, and his lips are the instruments of truth; sending forth perfumes more delightful than benjamin or myrrh. His nostrils breathe ambergris and musk; and his countenance has the lustre of diamonds. He is dreadful in battle, and not to be conquered, his courage and valour being matchless. He, the sultan Maha Raja Durja, was crowned with a sacred crown from God; and possesses the wood called Kamat, in conjunction with the emperors of Rome and China. (Here follows an account of his possessions nearly corresponding to those above recited.)
"After this salutation, and the information I have given of my greatness and power, which I attribute to the good and holy prophet Mahomet, I am to acquaint you with the commands of the sultan whose presence bringeth death to all who attempt to approach him without permission; and also those of the sultan of Indrapura who has four breasts. This friendly sheet of paper is brought from the two sultans above named, by their bird anggas, unto their son, sultan Gandam Shah, to acquaint him with their intention under this great seal, which is that they order their son sultan Gandam Shah to oblige the English Company to settle in the district called Biangnur, at a place called the field of sheep, that they may not have occasion to be ashamed at their frequent refusal of our goodness in permitting them to trade with us and with our subjects; and that in case he cannot succeed in this affair we hereby advise him that the ties of friendship subsisting between us and our son is broken; and we direct that he send us an answer immediately, that we may know the result--for all this island is our own." It is difficult to determine whether the preamble, or the purport of the letter be the more extraordinary.)
(*Footnote. The following letter from the sultan of Menangkabau to the father of the current sultan of Moco-moco, written about fifty years ago, was shared with me by Mr. Alexander Dalrymple. Although there is some repetition, I find it too intriguing to leave out. The style is significantly more sensible than the previous text. "Praise be to Almighty God! Sultan Gagar Alum, the great and noble King, whose vast power extends to the edges of the open ocean; to whom God grants all his wishes, and over whom no evil spirit, not even Satan himself, has any sway; who has the authority to punish wrongdoers; and who has the kindest heart for helping the innocent; holds no ill will, but treats the righteous with the utmost respect, and supports the poor and needy by feeding them from his own table every day. His authority spans the entire universe, and his kindness and goodness are known to all. (Mention made of the three brothers.) The ambassador of God and his prophet Muhammad; the beloved of humanity; and the ruler of the island called Percho. At the time God created the heavens, the earth, the sun, and the moon, even before evil spirits existed, Sultan Gagar Alum resided in the clouds; but when the world became inhabitable, God gave him a bird called Hocinet that could speak; this bird was sent to find a place for him to establish a legacy, and it first landed on the fertile island of Lankapura, located between Palembang and Jambi, from which the famous kingdom of Manancabow arose, a kingdom that will be renowned and powerful until the Day of Judgment."This Maha Raja Durja is blessed with a long life and continuous prosperity, which he will uphold in the name and grace of the holy prophet, ensuring God's divine Will is accomplished on earth. He possesses exceptional skills, great wisdom, and carefulness in governing numerous tributary kings and subjects. He is honorable and generous, and he upholds the dignity and glory of his ancestors. His justice and kindness are acknowledged in distant lands, and his name will be revered until the end of time. When he speaks, he is full of kindness, with words as refreshing as rosewater to someone thirsty. His breath is like gentle breezes from heaven, and his lips speak the truth, releasing fragrances more delightful than frankincense or myrrh. His nostrils carry the scent of ambergris and musk, and his face shines brightly like diamonds. He is formidable in battle and unbeatable, with unmatched bravery and valor. He, the sultan Maha Raja Durja, was crowned with a sacred crown from God; he possesses the wood known as Kamat, alongside the emperors of Rome and China. (Here follows a list of his possessions that closely correspond to those previously mentioned.)"
"After this greeting and the details I've shared about my greatness and power, which I attribute to the good and holy prophet Muhammad, I need to inform you about the commands of the sultan whose presence brings death to anyone who approaches him without permission; and also those of the sultan of Indrapura who has four breasts. This friendly letter is sent from the two aforementioned sultans, through their bird anggas, to their son, Sultan Gandam Shah, to inform him of their intention under this great seal, which is to instruct their son Sultan Gandam Shah to compel the English Company to settle in the district called Biangnur, at a place known as the field of sheep, so they won’t be embarrassed by their repeated refusals of our generosity in allowing them to trade with us and our subjects; and if he cannot succeed in this matter, we hereby want him to know that the bonds of friendship between us and our son will be broken; we instruct him to send us a response immediately so we know the outcome—for this entire island belongs to us." It's difficult to determine which is more astonishing, the introduction or the content of the letter.
Probably no records upon earth can furnish an example of more unintelligible jargon; yet these attributes are believed to be indisputably true by the Malays and others residing at a distance from his immediate dominions, who possess a greater degree of faith than wit; and with this addition, that he dwells in a palace without covering, free from inconvenience. It is at the same time but justice to these people to observe that, in the ordinary concerns of life, their writings are as sober, consistent, and rational as those of their neighbours.
Probably no records on earth can provide an example of more confusing jargon; yet these traits are believed to be undeniably true by the Malays and others living far from his immediate territory, who have more faith than common sense. Additionally, they believe he lives in a palace without a roof, free from discomfort. At the same time, it’s fair to note that in everyday matters, their writings are just as sensible, consistent, and rational as those of their neighbors.
REMARKS ON WARRANT.
Remarks on Warrant.
The seals prefixed to the warrant are, beside his own and that of the emperor of China, whose consequence is well known to the inhabitants of the eastern islands, that of the sultan of Rum, by which is understood in modern times, Constantinople, the seat of the emperor of the Turks, who is looked up to by Mahometans, since the ruin of the khalifat, as the head of their religion; but I have reason to think that the appellation of Rumi was at an earlier period given by oriental writers to the subjects of the great Turkoman empire of the Seljuks, whose capital was Iconium or Kuniyah in Asia minor, of which the Ottoman was a branch. This personage he honours with the title of his eldest brother, the descendant of Iskander the two-horned, by which epithet the Macedonian hero is always distinguished in eastern story, in consequence, as may be presumed, of the horned figure on his coins,* which must long have circulated in Persia and Arabia. Upon the obscure history of these supposed brothers some light is thrown by the following legend communicated to me as the belief of the people of Johor. "It is related that Iskander dived into the sea, and there married a daughter of the king of the ocean, by whom he had three sons, who, when they arrived at manhood, were sent by their mother to the residence of their father. He gave them a makuta or crown, and ordered them to find kingdoms where they should establish themselves. Arriving in the straits of Singapura they determined to try whose head the crown fitted. The eldest trying first could not lift it to his head. The second the same. The third had nearly effected it when it fell from his hand into the sea. After this the eldest turned to the west and became king of Rome, the second to the east and became king of China. The third remained at Johor. At this time Pulo Percha (Sumatra) had not risen from the waters. When it began to appear, this king of Johor, being on a fishing party, and observing it oppressed by a huge snake named Si Kati-muno, attacked the monster with his sword called Simandang-giri, and killed it, but not till the sword had received one hundred and ninety notches in the encounter. The island being thus allowed to rise, he went and settled by the burning mountain, and his descendants became kings of Menangkabau." This has much the air of a tale invented by the people of the peninsula to exalt the idea of their own antiquity at the expense of their Sumatran neighbours. The blue champaka-flower of which the sultan boasts possession I conceive to be an imaginary and not an existent plant. The late respected Sir W. Jones, in his Botanical Observations printed in the Asiatic Researches Volume 4 suspects that by it must be meant the Kaempferia bhuchampac, a plant entirely different from the michelia; but as this supposition is built on a mere resemblance of sounds it is necessary to state that the Malayan term is champaka biru, and that nothing can be inferred from the accidental coincidence of the Sanskrit word bhu, signifying ground, with the English term for the blue colour.
The seals on the warrant include his own and that of the emperor of China, whose importance is recognized by the people of the eastern islands, along with the seal of the sultan of Rum, referring to modern-day Constantinople, the capital of the Turk emperor, who is viewed by Muslims as the leader of their religion since the decline of the caliphate. However, I believe that the name Rumi was originally used by Eastern writers to refer to the subjects of the great Turkoman empire of the Seljuks, whose capital was Iconium or Kuniyah in Asia Minor, from which the Ottoman Empire descended. This figure is honored as his eldest brother, the descendant of Iskander the two-horned, a title that the Macedonian hero is always known by in Eastern narratives, presumably due to the horned image on his coins, which must have circulated for a long time in Persia and Arabia. The obscure history of these supposed brothers is clarified by the following legend shared with me as a belief among the people of Johor. "It is said that Iskander dove into the sea and married a daughter of the sea king, with whom he had three sons. When they grew up, their mother sent them to their father. He gave them a crown and instructed them to find kingdoms to rule. When they reached the straits of Singapura, they decided to see whose head the crown fit. The eldest tried first but couldn’t lift it. The second tried and failed too. The third almost managed it when it slipped from his hand into the sea. After this, the eldest headed west and became king of Rome, the second went east and became king of China. The third stayed at Johor. At that time, Pulo Percha (Sumatra) had not yet emerged from the waters. When it started to appear, this king of Johor was fishing and saw it being threatened by a giant snake named Si Kati-muno. He bravely attacked the beast with his sword called Simandang-giri and killed it, but not before the sword had received one hundred and ninety notches from the fight. With the island now able to rise, he settled by the burning mountain, and his descendants became the kings of Menangkabau." This story seems to be made up by the peninsula's people to enhance their own ancient lineage while putting down their Sumatran neighbors. The blue champaka flower that the sultan claims to possess seems to be an imaginary plant rather than a real one. The late respected Sir W. Jones, in his Botanical Observations published in the Asiatic Researches Volume 4, suggests it may refer to the Kaempferia bhuchampac, which is completely different from michelia; however, this assumption is based only on a similarity in sounds. It's important to note that the Malay term is champaka biru, and there’s no conclusion to be drawn from the accidental coincidence of the Sanskrit word bhu, meaning ground, with the English word for the color blue.
(*Footnote. See a beautiful engraving of one of these coins preserved in the Bodleian collection, Oxford, prefixed to Dr. Vincent's Translation of the Voyage of Nearchus printed in 1809.)
(*Footnote. Check out a stunning engraving of one of these coins stored in the Bodleian collection, Oxford, located at the beginning of Dr. Vincent's Translation of the Voyage of Nearchus published in 1809.)
CEREMONIES.
Ceremonies.
With the ceremonies of the court we are very imperfectly acquainted. The royal salute is one gun; which may be considered as a refinement in ceremony; for as no additional number could be supposed to convey an adequate idea of respect, but must on the contrary establish a definite proportion between his dignity and that of his nobles, or of other princes, the sultan chooses to leave the measure of his importance indefinite by this policy and save his gunpowder. It must be observed that the Malays are in general extremely fond of the parade of firing guns, which they never neglect on high days, and on the appearance of the new moon, particularly that which marks the commencement and the conclusion of their puasa or annual fast. Yellow being esteemed, as in China, the royal colour, is said to be constantly and exclusively worn by the sultan and his household. His usual present on sending an embassy (for no Sumatran or other oriental has an idea of making a formal address on any occasion without a present in hand, be it never so trifling), is a pair of white horses; being emblematic of the purity of his character and intentions.
We don't know much about the ceremonies at court. The royal salute consists of one gunshot; this is a refined approach to ceremony because adding more shots wouldn't really express enough respect. Instead, it would create a specific rank between the sultan, his nobles, and other princes. By choosing to keep the measure of his importance vague, the sultan also saves on gunpowder. It's worth noting that Malays generally enjoy the spectacle of firing guns, which they always do on important days and when the new moon appears, especially to mark the start and end of their annual fast. Yellow, considered the royal color just like in China, is said to be worn exclusively by the sultan and his household. When sending an embassy (since no Sumatran or other Oriental person would think of making a formal address without a gift, no matter how small), he typically gives a pair of white horses, symbolizing the purity of his character and intentions.
CONVERSION TO MAHOMETAN RELIGION.
Conversion to Islam.
The immediate subjects of this empire, properly denominated Malays, are all of the Mahometan religion, and in that respect distinguished from the generality of inland inhabitants. How it has happened that the most central people of the island should have become the most perfectly converted is difficult to account for unless we suppose that its political importance and the richness of its gold trade might have drawn thither its pious instructors, from temporal as well as spiritual motives. Be this as it may, the country of Menangkabau is regarded as the supreme seat of civil and religious authority in this part of the East, and next to a voyage to Mecca to have visited its metropolis stamps a man learned, and confers the character of superior sanctity. Accordingly the most eminent of those who bear the titles of imam, mulana, khatib, and pandita either proceed from thence or repair thither for their degree, and bring away with them a certificate or diploma from the sultan or his minister.
The immediate inhabitants of this empire, called Malays, are all Muslim, which sets them apart from most of the people living inland. It's hard to explain why the central people of the island became the most fully converted unless we assume that its political significance and prosperous gold trade attracted religious teachers for both worldly and spiritual reasons. Regardless, the region of Menangkabau is seen as the leading center of civil and religious power in this part of the East, and aside from making a pilgrimage to Mecca, visiting its capital makes a person respected and regarded as more holy. As a result, the most distinguished individuals with titles like imam, mulana, khatib, and pandita either come from there or go there to receive their degree, bringing back a certificate or diploma from the sultan or his minister.
In attempting to ascertain the period of this conversion much accuracy is not to be expected; the natives are either ignorant on the subject or have not communicated their knowledge, and we can only approximate the truth by comparing the authorities of different old writers. Marco Polo, the Venetian traveller who visited Sumatra under the name of Java minor (see above) says that the inhabitants of the seashore were addicted to the Mahometan law, which they had learned from Saracon merchants. This must have been about the year 1290, when, in his voyage from China, he was detained for several months at a port in the Straits, waiting the change of the monsoon; and though I am scrupulous of insisting upon his authority (questioned as it is), yet in a fact of this nature he could scarcely be mistaken, and the assertion corresponds with the annals of the princes of Malacca, which state, as we have seen above, that sultan Muhammed Shah, who reigned from 1276 to 1333, was the first royal convert. Juan De Barros, a Portuguese historian of great industry, says that, according to the tradition of the inhabitants, the city of Malacca was founded about the year 1260, and that about 1400 the Mahometan faith had spread considerably there and extended itself to the neighbouring islands. Diogo do Couto, another celebrated historian, who prosecuted his inquiries in India, mentions the arrival at Malacca of an Arabian priest who converted its monarch to the faith of the khalifs, and gave him the name of Shah Muhammed in the year 1384. This date however is evidently incorrect, as that king's reign was earlier by fifty years. Corneille le Brun was informed by the king of Bantam in 1706 that the people of Java were made converts to that sect about three hundred years before. Valentyn states that Sheik Mulana, by whom this conversion was effected in 1406, had already disseminated his doctrine at Ache, Pase (places in Sumatra), and Johor. From these several sources of information, which are sufficiently distinct from each other, we may draw this conclusion, that the religion, which sprang up in Arabia in the seventh century, had not made any considerable progress in the interior of Sumatra earlier than the fourteenth, and that the period of its introduction, considering the vicinity to Malacca, could not be much later. I have been told indeed, but cannot vouch for its authenticity, that in 1782 these people counted 670 years from the first preaching of their religion, which would carry the period back to 1112. It may be added that in the island of Ternate the first Mahometan prince reigned from 1466 to 1486; that Francis Xavier, a celebrated Jesuit missionary, when he was at Amboina in 1546 observed the people then beginning to learn to write from the Arabians; that the Malays were allowed to build a mosque at Goak in Makasar subsequently to the arrival of the Portuguese in 1512; and that in 1603 the whole kingdom had become Mahometan. These islands, lying far to the eastward, and being of less considerable account in that age than subsequent transactions have rendered them, the zeal of religious adventurers did not happen to be directed thither so soon as to the countries bordering on the sea of India.
In trying to figure out when this conversion happened, we can't expect much accuracy; the locals either don't know, or haven't shared what they know, and we can only get close to the truth by comparing different old writers. Marco Polo, the Venetian traveler who visited Sumatra, referring to it as Java minor (see above), says that the people living by the sea were following the Islamic law, which they had learned from Saracon merchants. This must have been around 1290, when he spent several months at a port in the Straits during his journey from China, waiting for the monsoon to change; and while I'm careful about relying on his account (since it's been questioned), in a matter like this, he would hardly be mistaken, and his statement matches the records of the princes of Malacca, which, as we’ve seen above, claim that Sultan Muhammed Shah, who ruled from 1276 to 1333, was the first royal convert. Juan De Barros, a diligent Portuguese historian, says that according to local tradition, the city of Malacca was founded around 1260, and by 1400, the Islamic faith had spread significantly there and into nearby islands. Diogo do Couto, another well-known historian who researched India, notes the arrival of an Arabian priest in Malacca, who converted its king to the faith of the caliphs, giving him the name Shah Muhammed in 1384. However, this date is clearly incorrect since that king ruled fifty years earlier. Corneille le Brun heard from the king of Bantam in 1706 that the people of Java had converted to Islam about three hundred years earlier. Valentyn mentions that Sheik Mulana, who carried out this conversion in 1406, had already spread his teachings in Ache, Pase (places in Sumatra), and Johor. From these various sources, which are quite different from one another, we can conclude that Islam, which started in Arabia in the seventh century, didn’t really gain a foothold in the interior of Sumatra until the fourteenth century, and considering how close it is to Malacca, it couldn’t have been much later. I have heard, though I can't confirm it, that in 1782, this community claimed 670 years since the first preaching of their religion, which would trace it back to 1112. Additionally, the first Muslim ruler of the island of Ternate reigned from 1466 to 1486; Francis Xavier, a noted Jesuit missionary, observed in 1546 at Amboina that the locals were starting to learn writing from the Arabians; the Malays were permitted to construct a mosque at Goak in Makasar after the Portuguese arrived in 1512; and by 1603, the entire kingdom had converted to Islam. These islands, located far to the east and less significant during that time compared to later developments, did not attract the attention of religious adventurers as quickly as the countries around the Indian sea.
By some it has been asserted that the first sultan of Menangkabau was a Xerif from Mecca, or descendant of the khalifs, named Paduka Sri Sultan Ibrahim, who, settling in Sumatra, was received with honour by the princes of the country, Perapati-si-batang and his brother, and acquired sovereign authority. They add that the sultans who now reside at Pagar-ruyong and at Suruwasa are lineally descended from that Xerif, whilst he who resides at Sungei Trap, styled Datu Bandhara putih, derives his origin from Perapati. But to this supposition there are strong objections. The idea so generally entertained by the natives, and strengthened by the glimmering lights that the old writers afford us, bespeaks an antiquity to this empire that stretches far beyond the probable era of the establishment of the Mahometan religion in the island. Radin Tamanggung, son of a king of Madura, a very intelligent person, and who as a prince himself was conversant with these topics, positively asserted to me that it was an original Sumatran empire, antecedent to the introduction of the Arabian faith; instructed, but by no means conquered, as some had imagined, by people from the peninsula. So memorable an event as the elevation of a Xerif to the throne would have been long preserved by annals or tradition, and the sultan in the list of his titles would not fail to boast of this sacred extraction from the prophet, to which however he does not at all allude; and to this we may add that the superstitious veneration attached to the family extends itself not only where Mahometanism has made a progress, but also among the Battas and other people still unconverted to that faith, with whom it would not be the case if the claim to such respect was grounded on the introduction of a foreign religion which they have refused to accept.
Some people claim that the first sultan of Menangkabau was a Xerif from Mecca, or a descendant of the khalifs, named Paduka Sri Sultan Ibrahim. He settled in Sumatra, was welcomed by the local princes, Perapati-si-batang and his brother, and gained sovereign power. They also say that the sultans currently living in Pagar-ruyong and Suruwasa are direct descendants of that Xerif, while the one in Sungei Trap, known as Datu Bandhara putih, originates from Perapati. However, there are strong objections to this idea. The belief held by the locals, reinforced by the limited insights from early writings, suggests that this empire is much older than the likely time when the Islamic religion was established on the island. Radin Tamanggung, the son of a king from Madura and a highly knowledgeable individual who was familiar with these matters as a prince, confidently told me that it was an indigenous Sumatran empire, existing before the arrival of the Arabian faith; informed, but not conquered, as some had thought, by people from the peninsula. Such a significant event as a Xerif rising to the throne would have been recorded in history or passed down through tradition, and the sultan would certainly include this sacred lineage from the prophet among his titles, yet he makes no mention of it. Additionally, the strong reverence associated with his family is found not only where Islam has gained influence but also among the Battas and others who have not converted to that faith, which wouldn’t be the case if their respect was based solely on the introduction of a foreign religion they have rejected.
Perhaps it is less surprising that this one kingdom should have been completely converted than that so many districts of the island should remain to this day without any religion whatever. It is observable that a person of this latter description, coming to reside among the Malays, soon assimilates to them in manners, and conforms to their religious practices. The love of novelty, the vanity of learning, the fascination of ceremony, the contagion of example, veneration for what appears above his immediate comprehension, and the innate activity of man's intellectual faculties, which, spurred by curiosity, prompts him to the acquisition of knowledge, whether true or false--all conspire to make him embrace a system of belief and scheme of instruction in which there is nothing that militates against prejudices already imbibed. He relinquishes no favourite ancient worship to adopt a new, and is manifestly a gainer by the exchange, when he barters, for a paradise and eternal pleasures, so small a consideration as the flesh of his foreskin.
Maybe it's less surprising that this one kingdom was completely converted than that so many areas of the island still have no religion at all. It's noticeable that someone from this latter group, coming to live among the Malays, quickly picks up their ways and adapts to their religious practices. The desire for novelty, the pride in learning, the allure of rituals, the influence of others, respect for what seems beyond immediate understanding, and the natural drive of human intellect, fueled by curiosity, all encourage him to adopt a belief system and educational framework that doesn't contradict his existing biases. He gives up no cherished ancient worship to embrace a new one and clearly benefits from the switch when he trades, for paradise and eternal pleasures, such a minor thing as the flesh of his foreskin.
TOLERANT PRINCIPLES.
Tolerant Principles.
The Malays, as far as my observation went, did not appear to possess much of the bigotry so commonly found amongst the western Mahometans, or to show antipathy to or contempt for unbelievers. To this indifference is to be attributed my not having positively ascertained whether they are followers of the sunni or the shiah sect, although from their tolerant principles and frequent passages in their writings in praise of Ali I conclude them to be the latter. Even in regard to the practice of ceremonies they do not imitate the punctuality of the Arabs and others of the mussulman faith. Excepting such as were in the orders of the priesthood I rarely noticed persons in the act of making their prostrations. Men of rank I am told have their religious periods, during which they scrupulously attend to their duties and refrain from gratifications of the appetite, together with gambling and cockfighting; but these are not long nor very frequent. Even their great Fast or puasa (the ramadan of the Turks) is only partially observed. All those who have a regard for character fast more or less according to the degree of their zeal or strength of their constitutions; some for a week, others for a fortnight; but to abstain from food and betel whilst the sun is above the horizon during the whole of a lunar month is a very rare instance of devotion.
The Malays, from what I've seen, didn't seem to have the kind of bigotry that is often found among Western Muslims, nor did they show hostility or disdain toward non-believers. This indifference is why I couldn't definitively determine whether they follow the Sunni or Shia sect, although based on their tolerant views and the frequent references in their writings praising Ali, I would conclude they are Shia. Even in terms of religious practices, they don't follow the same punctuality as Arabs or other Muslims. Except for those in the priesthood, I rarely saw anyone performing their prayers. I’ve been told that men of high status have their religious observance periods during which they strictly perform their duties and avoid indulgences, gambling, and cockfighting, but these periods aren’t very common or extensive. Even their major fast, known as puasa (similar to Ramadan among Turks), is only partially observed. Those who care about their reputation fast to varying degrees depending on their enthusiasm or physical condition; some fast for a week, others for two weeks. However, completely refraining from food and betel during daylight for an entire lunar month is a very rare display of devotion.
LITERATURE.
LITERATURE.
Malayan literature consists chiefly of transcripts and versions of the koran, commentaries on the mussulman law, and historic tales both in prose and verse, resembling in some respect our old romances. Many of these are original compositions, and others are translations of the popular tales current in Arabia, Persia, India, and the neighbouring island of Java, where the Hindu languages and mythology appear to have made at a remote period considerable progress. Among several works of this description I possess their translation (but much compressed) of the Ramayan, a celebrated Sanskrit poem, and also of some of the Arabian stories lately published in France as a Continuation of the Thousand and one Nights, first made known to the European world by M. Galland. If doubts have been entertained of the authenticity of these additions to his immortal collection the circumstance of their being (however partially) discovered in the Malayan language will serve to remove them. Beside these they have a variety of poetic works, abounding rather with moral reflections and complaints of the frowns of fortune or of ill-requited love than with flights of fancy. The pantun or short proverbial stanza has been already described. They are composed in all parts of the island, and often extempore; but such as proceed from Menangkabau, the most favoured seat of the Muses, are held in the first esteem. Their writing is entirely in the modified Arabic character, and upon paper previously ruled by means of threads drawn tight and arranged in a peculiar manner.
Malayan literature mainly consists of transcripts and versions of the Quran, commentaries on Muslim law, and historical tales in both prose and verse, somewhat similar to our old romances. Many of these are original works, while others are translations of popular stories from Arabia, Persia, India, and the nearby island of Java, where Hindu languages and mythology seem to have made notable progress long ago. Among several works I have, there is a condensed translation of the Ramayana, a famous Sanskrit poem, as well as some Arabian stories recently published in France as a continuation of the Thousand and One Nights, first introduced to the European world by M. Galland. If there have been doubts about the authenticity of these additions to his renowned collection, the fact that they have been (even if partially) found in the Malayan language should help clear them up. In addition to these, there is a variety of poetic works that focus more on moral reflections and lamentations about misfortune or unreturned love than on flights of imagination. The pantun, or short proverbial stanza, has already been described. These are created all over the island and often made up on the spot; however, those from Menangkabau, the most esteemed center of the Muses, are particularly valued. Their writing uses a modified Arabic script and is done on paper that has been previously ruled with threads pulled tight and arranged in a specific manner.
ARTS.
ARTS.
The arts in general are carried among these people to a greater degree of perfection than by the other natives of Sumatra. The Malays are the sole fabricators of the exquisite gold and silver filigree, the manufacture of which has been particularly described.
The arts, in general, are practiced by these people to a higher level of perfection than by other natives of Sumatra. The Malays are the only ones who create the beautiful gold and silver filigree, which has been specifically detailed.
FIREARMS.
Guns.
In the country of Menangkabau they have from the earliest times manufactured arms for their own use and to supply the northern inhabitants of the island, who are the most warlike, and which trade they continue to this day, smelting, forging, and preparing, by a process of their own, the iron and steel for this purpose, although much is at the same time purchased from Europeans.*
In the region of Menangkabau, they have been making weapons for their own use and to supply the northern people of the island, who are the most combative, since ancient times. They still engage in this trade today, smelting, forging, and preparing the iron and steel for this purpose using their own methods, even though a lot is also bought from Europeans.*
(*Footnote. The principal iron mines are at a place called Padang Luar, where the ore is sold at the rate of half a fanam or forty-eighth part of a dollar for a man's load, and carried to another place in the Menangkabau country called Selimpuwong, where it is smelted and manufactured.)
(*Footnote. The main iron mines are located in a place called Padang Luar, where the ore is sold for half a fanam, or one forty-eighth of a dollar, for a man's load. It is then transported to another location in the Menangkabau region called Selimpuwong, where it is smelted and processed.)
CANNON.
Cannon.
The use of cannon in this and other parts of India is mentioned by the oldest Portuguese historians, and it must consequently have been known there before the discovery of the passage by the Cape of Good Hope. Their guns are those pieces called matchlocks, the improvement of springs and flints not being yet adopted by them; the barrels are well tempered and of the justest bore, as is evident from the excellence of their aim, which they always take by lowering, instead of raising the muzzle of the piece to the object. They are wrought by rolling a flatted bar of iron of proportionate dimensions spirally round a circular rod, and beating it till the parts of the former unite; which method seems preferable in point of strength to that of folding and soldering the bar longitudinally. The art of boring may well be supposed unknown to these people. Firelocks are called by them snapang, from the Dutch name. Gunpowder they make in great quantities, but either from the injudicious proportion of the ingredients in the composition, or the imperfect granulation, it is very defective in strength.
The use of cannons in this part of India and elsewhere is noted by the earliest Portuguese historians, so it must have been known there before the discovery of the route around the Cape of Good Hope. Their guns are matchlocks, as they haven’t yet adopted improvements like springs and flints. The barrels are well-tempered and precisely sized, as shown by their accuracy, which they achieve by lowering the muzzle instead of raising it to aim. They are made by spirally rolling a flat iron bar around a circular rod and hammering it until they fuse together; this method seems to be stronger than folding and soldering the bar lengthwise. It's likely that the art of boring was unknown to these people. They refer to firelocks as snapang, derived from the Dutch name. They produce gunpowder in large quantities, but either due to poor ingredient ratios or inadequate granulation, it is quite weak.
SIDE-ARMS.
Handguns.
The tombak, lambing, and kujur or kunjur are names for weapons of the lance or spear kind; the pedang, rudus, pamandap, and kalewang are of the sword kind, and slung at the side, the siwar is a small instrument of the nature of a stiletto, chiefly used for assassination; and the kris is a species of dagger of a particular construction, very generally worn, being stuck in front through the folds of a belt that goes several times round the body.
The tombak, lambing, and kujur or kunjur are names for lance or spear-type weapons; the pedang, rudus, pamandap, and kalewang refer to swords, and slung at the side, the siwar is a small tool like a stiletto, mainly used for assassination; and the kris is a type of dagger with a specific design, commonly worn, being tucked through the folds of a belt that wraps several times around the body.
PLATE 17. SUMATRAN WEAPONS. A. A Malay Gadoobang. B. A Batta
Weapon. C. A Malay Creese.
One-third of the size of the
Originals.
W. Williams del. and sculpt.
Published by W. Marsden,
1810.
PLATE 17. SUMATRAN WEAPONS. A. A Malay Gadoobang. B. A Batta Weapon. C. A Malay Creese.
One-third of the size of the Originals.
W. Williams del. and sculpt.
Published by W. Marsden, 1810.
PLATE 17a. SUMATRAN WEAPONS. D. A Malay Creese. E. An Achenese
Creese. F. A Malay Sewar.
One-third of the size of the Originals.
W. Williams del. and sculpt.
PLATE 17a. SUMATRAN WEAPONS. D. A Malay Creese. E. An Achenese
Creese. F. A Malay Sewar.
One-third of the size of the Originals.
W. Williams del. and sculpt.
KRIS-BLADE.
KRIS BLADE.
The blade is about fourteen inches in length, not straight nor uniformly curved, but waving in and out, as we see depicted the flaming swords that guarded the gates of paradise; which probably may render a wound given with it the more fatal. It is not smooth or polished like those of our weapons, but by a peculiar process made to resemble a composition, in which veins of a different metal are apparent. This damasking (as I was informed by the late Mr. Boulton) is produced by beating together steel and iron wire whilst in a state of half fusion, and eating them with acids, by which the softest part is the most corroded; the edges being of pure steel. Their temper is uncommonly hard. The head or haft is either of ivory, the tooth of the duyong (sea-cow), that of the hippopotamus, the snout of the ikan layer (voilier), of black coral, or of fine-grained wood. This is ornamented with gold or a mixture of that and copper, which they call swasa, highly polished and carved into curious figures, some of which have the beak of a bird with the arms of a human creature, and bear a resemblance to the Egyptian Isis. The sheath also is formed of some beautiful species of wood, hollowed out, with a neat lacing of split rattan, stained red round the lower parts; or sometimes it is plated with gold. The value of a kris is supposed to be enhanced in proportion to the number of persons it has slain. One that has been the instrument of much bloodshed is regarded with a degree of veneration as something sacred. The horror or enthusiasm inspired by the contemplation of such actions is transferred to the weapon, which accordingly acquires sanctity from the principle that leads ignorant men to reverence whatever possesses the power of effecting mischief. Other circumstances also contribute to give them celebrity, and they are distinguished by pompous names. Some have a cushion by their bedside on which is placed their favourite weapon. I have a manuscript treatise on krises, accompanied with drawings, describing their imaginary properties and value, estimated at the price of one or more slaves. The abominable custom of poisoning them, though much talked of, is rarely practised I believe in modern times. They are frequently seen rubbing the blades with lime-juice, which has been considered as a precaution against danger of this kind, but it is rather for the purpose of removing common stains or of improving the damasked appearance.
The blade is about fourteen inches long, not straight or evenly curved, but flowing in and out, like the flaming swords illustrated as guarding the gates of paradise, which probably makes any wound it inflicts more deadly. It isn't smooth or polished like our weapons; instead, it's crafted through a unique process that gives it a patterned look, with veins of a different metal visible. This damasking (as I learned from the late Mr. Boulton) is created by hammering together steel and iron wire while they’re partially melted and treating them with acids, which corrode the softer parts more, leaving the edges as pure steel. Their hardness is quite impressive. The handle can be made from ivory, the tooth of a dugong (sea cow), the tooth of a hippopotamus, the snout of a layer fish, black coral, or fine-grained wood. It’s adorned with gold or a mix of gold and copper, called swasa, which is highly polished and intricately carved into fascinating shapes, some resembling a bird's beak with human arms, and reminiscent of the Egyptian goddess Isis. The sheath is made from a beautiful type of wood, hollowed out with a neat lacing of split rattan, stained red around the lower parts; sometimes, it’s gold-plated. The value of a kris is believed to increase with the number of people it has killed. A kris that has caused a lot of bloodshed is viewed with a level of reverence as something sacred. The fear or fascination that arises from these actions is attributed to the weapon, which gains a kind of sanctity because of the belief that ignorant individuals tend to idolize anything that holds the power to cause harm. Other factors also add to their fame, and they’re given grand names. Some people keep a cushion by their bedside for their favorite weapon. I have a written treatise on krises with drawings that describe their imagined qualities and worth, valued at the price of one or more slaves. The disgusting practice of poisoning them, although often mentioned, is rarely used nowadays, I believe. People frequently rub the blades with lime juice, which is seen as a precaution against such dangers, but it’s more to clean off regular stains or enhance the damasked appearance.
MODES OF WARFARE.
WARFARE STRATEGIES.
Although much parade attends their preparations for war and their marches, displaying colours of scarlet cloth, and beating drums, gongs, and chennangs, yet their operations are carried on rather in the way of ambuscade and surprise of straggling parties than open combat, firing irregularly from behind entrenchments, which the enemy takes care not to approach too near.
Although there's a lot of fanfare around their preparations for war and their marches, with bright red flags and the sound of drums, gongs, and chennangs, their tactics are more about ambush and surprising small groups than engaging in open battle. They fire erratically from behind fortifications, which the enemy avoids getting too close to.
HORSES.
Horses.
They are said to go frequently to war on horseback, but I shall not venture to give their force the name of cavalry. The chiefs may probably avail themselves of the service of this useful animal from motives of personal indulgence or state, but on account of the ranjaus or sharp-pointed stakes so commonly planted in the passes (see the preceding journal of Lieutenant Dare's march, where they are particularly described), it is scarcely possible that horse could be employed as an effective part of an army. It is also to be observed that neither the natives nor even Europeans ever shoe them, the nature of the roads in general not rendering it necessary. The breed of them is small but well made, hardy, and vigorous. The soldiers serve without pay, but the plunder they obtain is thrown into a common stock, and divided amongst them. Whatever might formerly have been the degree of their prowess they are not now much celebrated for it; yet the Dutch at Padang have often found them troublesome enemies from their numbers, and been obliged to secure themselves within their walls. Between the Menangkabau people, those of Rau or Aru, and the Achinese, settled at Natal, wars used to be incessant until they were checked by the influence of our authority at that place. The factory itself was raised upon one of the breast-works thrown up by them for defence, of which several are to be met with in walking a few miles into the country, and some of them very substantial. Their campaigns in this petty warfare were carried on very deliberately. They made a regular practice of commencing a truce at sunset, when they remained in mutual security, and sometimes agreed that hostilities should take place only between certain hours of the day. The English resident, Mr. Carter, was frequently chosen their umpire, and upon these occasions used to fix in the ground his golden-headed cane, on the spot where the deputies should meet and concert terms of accommodation; until at length the parties, grown weary of their fruitless contests, resolved to place themselves respectively under the dependence and protection of the company. The fortified villages, in some parts of the country named dusun, and in others kampong, are here, as on the continent of India, denominated kota or forts, and the districts are distinguished from each other by the number of confederated villages they contain.
They are said to frequently go to war on horseback, but I won't call their forces cavalry. The chiefs likely use these helpful animals for personal comfort or state reasons, but because of the ranjaus or sharp-pointed stakes that are commonly planted in the paths (see the previous journal of Lieutenant Dare's march, where they are specifically described), it's almost impossible to use horses effectively in an army. It's also notable that neither the locals nor even Europeans ever shoe them, as the nature of the roads generally doesn’t require it. The horses are small but well-built, tough, and energetic. The soldiers serve without pay, but the loot they gather is pooled together and shared among them. Despite whatever skills they might have had in the past, they're not known for their prowess now; however, the Dutch at Padang have often found them to be troublesome enemies due to their numbers and have had to protect themselves within their walls. There used to be constant warfare between the Menangkabau people, those of Rau or Aru, and the Achinese settled at Natal until our authority there put an end to it. The factory itself was built on one of the fortifications they created for defense, and you can still find several of these substantial structures just a few miles into the countryside. Their campaigns in this small-scale warfare were conducted very methodically. They regularly practiced a truce at sunset, where they felt safe and sometimes agreed that fighting would only take place during certain hours of the day. The English resident, Mr. Carter, was often chosen as their mediator, and on these occasions, he would place his golden-headed cane in the ground to mark where the representatives should meet to discuss terms of peace; eventually, the parties, tired of their endless fighting, decided to put themselves under the protection and authority of the company. The fortified villages, referred to as dusun in some areas and kampong in others, are here, as in India, called kota or forts, and the districts are identified by the number of allied villages they contain.
GOVERNMENT.
GOVERNMENT.
The government, like that of all Malayan states, is founded on principles entirely feudal. The prince is styled raja, maha-raja, iang de pertuan, or sultan; the nobles have the appellation of orang kaya or datu, which properly belongs to the chiefs of tribes, and implies their being at the head of a numerous train of immediate dependants or vassals, whose service they command. The heir-apparent has the title of raja muda.
The government, like that of all Malaysian states, is based on entirely feudal principles. The prince is called raja, maha-raja, yang de pertuan, or sultan; the nobles are referred to as orang kaya or datu, which properly belongs to the chiefs of tribes and implies that they are in charge of a large number of immediate dependents or vassals, whose service they oversee. The heir-apparent holds the title of raja muda.
OFFICERS OF STATE.
State Officials.
From amongst the orang kayas the sultan appoints the officers of state, who as members of his council are called mantri, and differ in number and authority according to the situation and importance of the kingdom. Of these the first in rank, or prime minister, has the appellation of perdana mantri, mangko bumi, and not seldom, however anomalously, maharaja. Next to him generally is the bandhara, treasurer or high steward; then the laksamana and tamanggung, commanders-in-chief by sea and land, and lastly the shahbandara, whose office it is to superintend the business of the customs (in sea-port towns) and to manage the trade for the king. The governors of provinces are named panglima, the heads of departments pangulu. The ulubalang are military officers forming the bodyguard of the sovereign, and prepared on all occasions to execute his orders. From their fighting singly, when required, in the cause of the prince or noble who maintains them, the name is commonly translated champion; but when employed by a weak but arbitrary and cruel prince to remove by stealth obnoxious persons whom he dares not to attack openly they may be compared more properly to the Ismaelians or Assassins, so celebrated in the history of the Crusades, as the devoted subjects of the Sheikh al-jabal, or Old Man of the Mountain, as this chief of Persian Irak is vulgarly termed. I have not reason however to believe that such assassinations are by any means frequent. The immediate vassals of the king are called amba raja; and for the subjects in general the word rayet has been adopted. Beside those above named there is a great variety of officers of government of an inferior class; and even among the superior there is not at every period, nor in every Malayan state, a consistent uniformity of rank and title.
Among the elite, the sultan appoints state officers, known as mantri, who serve on his council and vary in number and authority depending on the kingdom's situation and importance. The highest-ranking official, or prime minister, is called perdana mantri, mangko bumi, and sometimes, rather unusually, maharaja. Next in line is usually the bandhara, the treasurer or high steward; followed by the laksamana and tamanggung, who are the commanders-in-chief by sea and land. Lastly, there's the shahbandara, responsible for overseeing customs operations (in seaport towns) and managing trade for the king. Provincial governors are referred to as panglima, while department heads are called pangulu. The ulubalang are military officers who form the sovereign's bodyguard, ready to carry out his orders at all times. Their roles often involve fighting individually on behalf of the prince or noble who pays them, which is why they are commonly regarded as champions. However, when employed by a weak, arbitrary, and cruel prince to secretly eliminate people he cannot confront openly, they resemble the Ismaelians or Assassins, famous in Crusade history for their loyalty to the Sheikh al-jabal, or Old Man of the Mountain, as he is commonly known in Persian Irak. Still, I have no reason to believe that such assassinations are common. The king's immediate vassals are called amba raja, while the general subjects are referred to as rayet. In addition to those mentioned, there are many other lower-level government officers, and even among the higher ranks, there isn't always a consistent standard of rank and title across different periods or Malaysian states.
GOVERNMENT BY FOUR DATUS.
GOVERNMENT BY FOUR DATUS.
The smaller Malayan establishments are governed by their datus or heads of tribes, of whom there are generally four; as at Bencoolen (properly Bengkaulu) near to which the English settlement of Fort Marlborough is situated, and where Fort York formerly stood. These are under the protection or dominion of two native chiefs or princes, the pangerans of Sungei-lamo and Sungei-etam, the origin of whose authority has been already explained. Each of these has possessions on different parts of the river, the principal sway being in the hands of him of the two who has most personal ability. They are constant rivals, though living upon familiar terms, and are only restrained from open war by the authority of the English. Limun likewise, and the neighbouring places of Batang-asei and Pakalang-jambu, near the sources of Jambi River, where gold is collected and carried chiefly to Bencoolen and the settlement of Laye, where I had opportunities of seeing the traders, are each governed by four datus, who, though not immediately nominated by the sultan, are confirmed by, and pay tribute to, him. The first of these, whose situation is most southerly, receive also an investiture (baju, garment, and destar, turband) from the sultan of Palembang, being a politic measure adopted by these merchants for the convenience attending it in their occasional trading concerns with that place.
The smaller Malaysian regions are run by their datus or tribal leaders, usually around four of them. For instance, in Bencoolen (officially Bengkaulu), where the English settlement of Fort Marlborough is located and where Fort York once stood. These leaders are under the protection or rule of two local chiefs or princes, the pangerans of Sungei-lamo and Sungei-etam, whose authority has already been discussed. Each of these chiefs controls different areas along the river, with the main power held by the one who has the most personal skill. They are ongoing rivals, though they maintain a friendly relationship, and their open conflict is kept in check by the English authority. Similarly, Limun and nearby regions like Batang-asei and Pakalang-jambu, close to the sources of the Jambi River where gold is mined and mainly sent to Bencoolen and the settlement of Laye, where I had the chance to meet the traders, are each led by four datus. Although they aren't directly appointed by the sultan, they are confirmed by him and pay him tribute. The southernmost leader also receives an investiture (baju, garment, and destar, turban) from the sultan of Palembang, a strategic move made by these traders for easier transactions with that place.
HOT SPRINGS.
Hot Springs.
At Priangan, near Gunong-berapi, are several hot mineral springs, called in the Malayan map already mentioned, panchuran tujuh or the seven conduits, where the natives from time immemorial have been in the practice of bathing; some being appropriated to the men, and others to the women; with two of cold water, styled the king's. It will be recollected that in ancient times this place was the seat of government.
At Priangan, near Gunong-berapi, there are several hot mineral springs, referred to in the mentioned Malayan map as panchuran tujuh or the seven conduits. Locals have been bathing here for ages; some springs are designated for men and others for women, along with two cold water springs known as the king's. It’s worth noting that this location was the seat of government in ancient times.
ANCIENT SCULPTURE.
Ancient sculpture.
Near to these springs is a large stone or rock of very hard substance, one part of which is smoothed to a perpendicular face of about ten or twelve feet long and four high, on which are engraved characters supposed to be European, the space being entirely filled with them and certain chaps or marks at the corners. The natives presume them to be Dutch, but say that the latter do not resemble the present mark of the Company. There is some appearance of the date 1100. The informant (named Raja Intan), who had repeatedly seen and examined it, added that M. Palm, governor of Padang, once sent Malays with paper and paint to endeavour to take off the inscription, but they did not succeed; and the Dutch, whose arms never penetrated to that part of the country, are ignorant of its meaning. It is noticed in the Malayan map. Should it prove to be a Hindu monument it will be thought curious.
Close to these springs is a large stone or rock made of very hard material. One side is smoothed into a vertical surface about ten to twelve feet long and four feet high, covered in engraved characters believed to be European. The entire area is filled with these characters, along with some marks or designs at the corners. The locals think they are Dutch but say they don't look like the current symbols of the Company. There seems to be a date, possibly from 1100. The informant, named Raja Intan, who has seen and examined it multiple times, mentioned that M. Palm, the governor of Padang, once sent Malays with paper and paint to try to copy the inscription, but they were unsuccessful. The Dutch, who never ventured into that part of the country, are unaware of its meaning. It is noted on the Malayan map. If it turns out to be a Hindu monument, it will be considered quite interesting.
CHAPTER 19.
KINGDOMS OF INDRAPURA, ANAK-SUNGEI, PASSAMMAN, SIAK.
KINGDOMS OF INDRAPURA, ANAK-SUNGEI, PASSAMMAN, SIAK.
INDRAPURA.
INDRAPURA.
Among the earliest dismemberments of the Menangkabau empire was the establishment of Indrapura as an independent kingdom. Though now in its turn reduced to a state of little importance, it was formerly powerful in comparison with its neighbours, and of considerable magnitude, including Anak-Sungei and extending as far as Kattaun. Some idea of its antiquity may be formed from a historical account given by the Sultan of Bantam to the intelligent traveller Corneille le Brun, in which it is related that the son of the Arabian prince who first converted the Javans to the religion of the Prophet, about the year 1400, having obtained for himself the sovereignty of Bantam, under the title of pangeran, married the daughter of the raja of Indrapura, and received as her portion the country of the Sillabares, a people of Banca-houlou.
Among the earliest separations of the Menangkabau empire was the establishment of Indrapura as an independent kingdom. Although it has since become relatively insignificant, it was once quite powerful compared to its neighbors and was quite large, including Anak-Sungei and reaching as far as Kattaun. We can gauge its age from a historical account provided by the Sultan of Bantam to the knowledgeable traveler Corneille le Brun, which states that the son of the Arabian prince who first converted the Javanese to the religion of the Prophet around the year 1400, after gaining control over Bantam with the title of pangeran, married the daughter of the raja of Indrapura and received the Sillabares territory, belonging to the people of Banca-houlou, as her dowry.
CLAIMS OF THE SULTAN OF BANTAM.
CLAIMS OF THE SULTAN OF BANTAM.
Upon this cession appears to be grounded the modern claim of the sultan to this part of the coast, which, previously to the treaty of Paris in 1763, was often urged by his sovereigns, the Dutch East India Company. His dominion is said indeed to have extended from the southward as far as Urei river, and at an early period to Betta or Ayer Etam, between Ipu and Moco-moco, but that the intermediate space was ceded by him to the raja of Indrapura, in satisfaction for the murder of a prince, and that a small annual tax was laid by the latter on the Anaksungei people on account of the same murder (being the fourth part of a dollar, a bamboo of rice, and a fowl, from each village), which is now paid to the sultan of Moco-moco. In the year 1682 the district of Ayer Aji threw off its dependence on Indrapura. In 1696 Raja Pasisir Barat, under the influence of the Dutch, was placed on the throne, at the age of six years, and his grandfather appointed guardian; but in 1701, in consequence of a quarrel with his protectors, the European settlers were massacred.
The modern claim of the sultan to this part of the coast is based on this agreement, which was often supported by his predecessors, the Dutch East India Company, before the Treaty of Paris in 1763. It is said that his rule extended south to the Urei River and at one time reached Betta or Ayer Etam, between Ipu and Moco-moco. However, the area in between was ceded by him to the raja of Indrapura as compensation for the murder of a prince, and a small annual tax was imposed by the raja on the Anaksungei people for this murder (which consisted of a quarter of a dollar, a bamboo of rice, and a chicken from each village), and this tax is now paid to the sultan of Moco-moco. In 1682, the district of Ayer Aji became independent from Indrapura. In 1696, Raja Pasisir Barat was placed on the throne under Dutch influence at the age of six, with his grandfather as guardian; however, in 1701, after a conflict with his protectors, the European settlers were massacred.
WAR WITH THE DUTCH.
WAR WITH THE NETHERLANDS.
This was the occasion of a destructive war, in the event of which the raja and his mantris were obliged to fly, and the country was nearly depopulated. In 1705 he was reinstated, and reigned till about 1732.
This was the start of a devastating war, during which the raja and his advisors had to flee, and the country was almost empty. In 1705, he was restored to power and ruled until around 1732.
DECLINE OF THE KINGDOM.
FALL OF THE KINGDOM.
But the kingdom never recovered the shock it had received, and dwindled into obscurity. Its river, which descends from the mountains of Korinchi, is considered as one of the largest in the southern part of the west coast, and is capable of admitting sloops. The country formerly produced a large quantity of pepper, and some gold was brought down from the interior, which now finds another channel. An English factory was established there about the year 1684, but never became of any importance.
But the kingdom never fully bounced back from the shock it experienced and faded into obscurity. Its river, which flows down from the mountains of Korinchi, is regarded as one of the largest on the southern west coast and can accommodate small boats. The region used to produce a significant amount of pepper, and some gold was transported from the interior, which now uses a different route. An English trading post was set up there around 1684, but it never became significant.
KINGDOM OF ANAK-SUNGEI.
KINGDOM OF ANAK-SUNGEI.
From the ruins of Indrapura has sprung the kingdom of Anak-sungei, extending along the sea-coast from Manjuta River to that of Urei. Its chief bears the title of sultan, and his capital, if such places deserve the appellation, is Moco-moco. A description of it will be found above. Although the government is Malayan, and the ministers of the sultan are termed mantri (a title borrowed from the Hindus) the greatest part of the country dependent on it is inhabited by the original dusun people, and accordingly their proper chiefs are styled proattin, who are obliged to attend their prince at stated periods, and to carry to him their contribution or tax. His power over them however is very limited.
From the ruins of Indrapura has emerged the kingdom of Anak-sungei, stretching along the coastline from the Manjuta River to the Urei River. Its leader is called sultan, and his capital, if you can call it that, is Moco-moco. A description of it is provided above. Although the government is Malay and the sultan's ministers are referred to as mantri (a title borrowed from the Hindus), most of the country is inhabited by the original dusun people. Their proper leaders are known as proattin, who must attend their prince at designated times and bring him their tax or contributions. However, the sultan's power over them is quite limited.
The first monarch of this new kingdom was named sultan Gulemat, who in 1695 established himself at Manjuta, by the assistance of the English, in consequence of a revolution at Indrapura, by which the prince who had afforded them protection on their first settling was driven out through the intrigues, as they are termed, of the Dutch. It was a struggle, in short, between the rival Companies, whose assistance was courted by the different factions as it happened to suit their purpose, or who, becoming strong enough to consider themselves as principals, made the native chiefs the tools of their commercial ambition. In the year 1717 Gulemat was removed from the throne by an assembly of the chiefs styling themselves the mantris of Lima-kota and proattins of Anak-sungei, who set up a person named Raja Kechil-besar in his room, appointing at the same time, as his minister and successor, Raja Gandam Shah, by whom, upon his accession in 1728, the seat of government was removed from Manjuta to Moco-moco. He was father of sultan Pasisir Barat shah mualim shah, still reigning in the year 1780, but harassed by the frequent rebellions of his eldest son. The space of time occupied by the reigns of these two sovereigns is extraordinary when we consider that the former must have been at man's estate when he became minister or assessor in 1717. Nor is it less remarkable that the son of the deposed sultan Gulemat, called sultan Ala ed-din, was also living, at Tappanuli, about the year 1780, being then supposed ninety years of age. He was confined as a state prisoner at Madras during the government of Mr. Morse, and is mentioned by Captain Forrest (Voyage to the Mergui Archipelago, page 57) as uncle to the king of Achin, who reigned in 1784. The first English settlement at Moco-moco was formed in 1717.
The first ruler of this new kingdom was Sultan Gulemat, who in 1695 established himself in Manjuta, with the help of the English, after a revolution in Indrapura that removed the prince who had protected them when they first settled, due to the Dutch's schemes. It was essentially a struggle between rival Companies, each trying to gain favor from different factions to suit their needs or, when they became strong enough, turning the native chiefs into pawns for their commercial ambitions. In 1717, Gulemat was ousted from the throne by a group of chiefs calling themselves the mantris of Lima-kota and proattins of Anak-sungei, who replaced him with a man named Raja Kechil-besar. At the same time, they appointed Raja Gandam Shah as his minister and successor. Upon his accession in 1728, the government moved from Manjuta to Moco-moco. He was the father of Sultan Pasisir Barat Shah Mualim Shah, who was still ruling in 1780 but was troubled by the frequent rebellions of his oldest son. The length of reigns of these two rulers is remarkable, especially considering that Gulemat must have been an adult when he became minister or adviser in 1717. It's also noteworthy that Gulemat's son, Sultan Ala ed-din, was still alive in Tappanuli around 1780, and was thought to be about ninety years old at that time. He had been held as a state prisoner in Madras during Mr. Morse's governorship and is mentioned by Captain Forrest (Voyage to the Mergui Archipelago, page 57) as the uncle of the king of Achin, who reigned in 1784. The first English settlement in Moco-moco was established in 1717.
PASSAMMAN.
PASSAMMAN.
Passamman was the most northern of the provinces immediately dependant on Menangkabau, and afterwards, together with Priaman and many other places on the coast, fell under the dominion of the kings of Achin. It is now divided into two petty kingdoms, each of which is governed by a raja and fourteen pangulus. Formerly it was a place of considerable trade, and, beside a great export of pepper, received much fine gold from the mountains of the Rau country, lying about three days' journey inland. The inhabitants of these are said to be Battas converted to Mahometanism and mixed with Malays. They are governed by datus. The peculiarity of dress remarked of the Korinchi people is also observable here, the men wearing drawers that reach just below the calf, having one leg of red and the other of white or blue cloth, and the baju or garment also party-coloured. The greater part of the gold they collect finds its way to Patapahan on the river of Siak, and from thence to the eastern side of the island and straits of Malacca. The Agam tribe adjoining to the Rau, and connecting to the southward with Menangkabau, differs little from Malays, and is likewise governed by datus.
Passamman was the northernmost province directly controlled by Menangkabau and later, along with Priaman and many other coastal areas, came under the rule of the kings of Achin. It is now split into two small kingdoms, each ruled by a raja and fourteen pangulus. In the past, it was a significant trading hub, mainly exporting pepper and receiving a lot of gold from the Rau mountains, which are about three days' journey inland. The locals are said to be Battas who converted to Islam and mixed with Malays. They are governed by datus. The unique clothing style of the Korinchi people can also be seen here, with men wearing pants that reach just below the calf, one leg in red and the other in white or blue fabric, and their tops also being multicolored. Most of the gold they collect ends up in Patapahan on the Siak River, and from there it goes to the eastern side of the island and the Malacca Strait. The Agam tribe, which borders the Rau and connects southward to Menangkabau, is very similar to Malays and is also led by datus.
SIAK.
SIAK.
The great river of Siak has its source in the mountains of the Menangkabau country, and empties itself nearly opposite to Malacca, with which place it formerly carried on a considerable trade. From the Dutch charts we had a general knowledge of its course as far as a place called Mandau or Mandol, as they write the name, and where they had a small establishment on account of its abounding with valuable shiptimber.
The great Siak River originates in the Menangkabau mountains and flows out near Malacca, a place it used to have significant trade with. From Dutch maps, we had a general idea of its path up to a spot called Mandau or Mandol, as they've written it, where they had a small outpost because it was rich in valuable ship timber.
SURVEY.
Survey.
A recent survey executed by Mr. Francis Lynch, under the orders of the government of Pulo Pinang, has made us more particularly acquainted with its size, its advantages, and defects. From the place where it discharges itself into the straits of Kampar or Bencalis, to the town of Siak is, according to the scale of his chart, about sixty-five geographical miles, and from thence to a place called Pakan bharu or Newmarket, where the survey discontinues, is about one hundred more. The width of the river is in general from about three-quarters to half a mile, and its depth from fifteen to seven fathoms; but on the bar at low-water spring-tides there are only fifteen feet, and several shoals near its mouth. The tides rise about eleven feet at the town, where at full and change it is high-water at nine A.M. Not far within the river is a small island on which the Dutch had formerly a factory. The shores are flat on both sides to a considerable distance up the country, and the whole of the soil is probably alluvial; but about a hundred and twenty-five or thirty miles up Mr. Lynch marks the appearance of high land, giving it the name of Princess Augusta Sophia hill, and points it out as a commanding situation for a settlement.
A recent survey conducted by Mr. Francis Lynch, under the orders of the government of Pulo Pinang, has given us a clearer understanding of its size, advantages, and drawbacks. From where it flows into the straits of Kampar or Bencalis to the town of Siak is about sixty-five geographical miles, according to his chart. From there to a place called Pakan bharu or Newmarket, where the survey stops, is about another hundred miles. The river is generally about three-quarters to half a mile wide, with depths ranging from fifteen to seven fathoms. However, at the bar during low-water spring tides, there are only fifteen feet, and several shoals near the mouth. The tides rise about eleven feet at the town, where it's high water at nine AM during full and new moons. Not far up the river is a small island where the Dutch used to have a trading post. The shores are flat on both sides for quite a distance inland, and the entire area seems to be alluvial soil. About one hundred and twenty-five or thirty miles upstream, Mr. Lynch notes the presence of high land, naming it Princess Augusta Sophia hill, and highlights it as an excellent location for a settlement.
SHIP-TIMBER.
SHIP WOOD.
He speaks in favourable terms of the facility with which ship-timber of any dimensions or shape may be procured and loaded. Respecting the size or population of the town no information is given.
He talks positively about how easily ship timber of any size or shape can be obtained and loaded. No information is provided about the town's size or population.
GOVERNMENT.
GOVERNMENT.
The government of it was (in October 1808) in the hands of the Tuanku Pangeran, brother to the Raja, who in consequence of some civil disturbance had withdrawn to the entrance of the river. His name is not mentioned, but from the Transactions of the Batavian Society we learn that the prince who reigned about the year 1780 was Raja Ismael, "one of the greatest pirates in those seas." The maritime power of the kingdom of Siak has always been considerable, and in the history of the Malayan states we repeatedly read of expeditions fitted out from thence making attacks upon Johor, Malacca, and various other places on the two coasts of the peninsula. Most of the neighbouring states (or rivers) on the eastern coast of Sumatra, from Langat to Jambi, are said to have been brought in modern times under its subjection.
The government was, as of October 1808, under the control of the Tuanku Pangeran, the Raja's brother, who had retreated to the river’s entrance due to some civil unrest. His name isn’t mentioned, but from the Transactions of the Batavian Society, we know that the prince who ruled around 1780 was Raja Ismael, "one of the greatest pirates in those seas." The maritime power of the Siak kingdom has always been significant, and in the history of the Malayan states, we often read about expeditions launched from there that attacked Johor, Malacca, and various other locations along both coasts of the peninsula. Most of the neighboring states (or rivers) on the eastern coast of Sumatra, from Langat to Jambi, are said to have been brought under its control in modern times.
TRADE.
Trade.
The trade is chiefly carried on by Kling vessels, as they are called, from the coast of Coromandel, which supply cargoes of piece-goods, and also raw silk, opium, and other articles, which they provide at Pinang or Malacca; in return for which they receive gold, wax, sago, salted fish, and fish-roes, elephants' teeth, gambir, camphor, rattans, and other canes. According to the information of the natives the river is navigable for sloops to a place called Panti Chermin, being eight days' sail with the assistance of the tide, and within half a day's journey by land of another named Patapahan, which boats also, of ten to twenty tons, reach in two days. This is a great mart of trade with the Menangkabau country, whither its merchants resort with their gold. Pakan-bharu, the limit of Mr. Lynch's voyage, is much lower down, and the abovementioned places are consequently not noticed by him. The Dutch Company procured annually from Siak, for the use of Batavia, several rafts of spars for masts, and if the plan of building ships at Pinang should be encouraged large supplies of frame-timber for the purpose may be obtained from this river, provided a sense of interest shall be found sufficiently strong to correct or restrain the habits of treachery and desperate enterprise for which these people have in all ages been notorious.
The trade is mainly handled by Kling ships, as they are known, coming from the Coromandel coast. They deliver shipments of manufactured goods, raw silk, opium, and other items to Pinang or Malacca, and in exchange, they receive gold, wax, sago, salted fish, fish roe, elephant tusks, gambir, camphor, rattans, and other types of canes. According to the locals, the river is navigable for sloops up to a place called Panti Chermin, which is an eight-day sail with the tide, and it's only half a day's journey by land to another place called Patapahan, which boats of ten to twenty tons can reach in two days. This is a major trading hub with the Menangkabau country, where merchants come to trade their gold. Pakan-bharu, the farthest point of Mr. Lynch's journey, is much further downriver, so he doesn't mention the places above. The Dutch Company used to get several rafts of spars for masts from Siak every year for Batavia, and if the idea of building ships at Pinang is supported, a large supply of frame timber for that purpose could be sourced from this river, as long as a strong enough motivation can be established to control or curb the treachery and reckless behavior that these people have historically been known for.
RAKAN.
Buddy.
The river Rakan, to the northward of Siak, by much the largest in the island, if it should not rather be considered as an inlet of the sea, takes its rise in the Rau country, and is navigable for sloops to a great distance from the sea; but vessels are deterred from entering it by the rapidity of the current, or more probably the reflux of the tide, and that peculiar swell known in the Ganges and elsewhere by the appellation of the bore.
The Rakan River, located north of Siak and the largest on the island, is more like an inlet of the sea. It starts in the Rau region and is navigable by sloops for quite a distance from the sea. However, boats hesitate to enter it due to the fast current or more likely the tidal flow, along with that unique surge known in the Ganges and other places as the bore.
KAMPAR.
KAMPAR.
That of Kampar, to the southward, is said by the natives to labour under the same inconvenience, and Mr. Lynch was informed that the tides there rise from eighteen to twenty-four feet. If these circumstances render the navigation dangerous it appears difficult to account for its having been a place of considerable note at the period of the Portuguese conquest of Malacca, and repeatedly the scene of naval actions with the fleets of Achin, whilst Siak, which possesses many natural advantages, is rarely mentioned. In modern times it has been scarcely at all known to Europeans, and even its situation is doubtful.
The natives say that Kampar, to the south, has the same issues, and Mr. Lynch learned that the tides there rise between eighteen and twenty-four feet. If these conditions make navigation risky, it's hard to understand why it was significant during the Portuguese conquest of Malacca and frequently witnessed naval battles with the Achin fleets, while Siak, which has many advantages, hardly gets mentioned. In more recent times, Europeans have known almost nothing about it, and even its exact location is uncertain.
INDRAGIRI.
INDRAGIRI.
The river of Indragiri is said by the natives to have its source in a lake of the Menangkabau country, from whence it issues by the name of Ayer Ambelan. Sloops tide it up for five or six weeks (as they assert), anchoring as the ebb begins to make. From a place called Lubok ramo-ramo they use boats of from five to twenty tons, and the smaller sort can proceed until they are stopped by a fall or cascade at Seluka, on the borders of Menangkabau. This extraordinary distance to which the influence of the tides extends is a proof of the absolute flatness of the country through which these rivers take the greater part of their course.
The locals say that the Indragiri River starts in a lake in Menangkabau, where it flows out as the Ayer Ambelan. They claim that boats can navigate it for five or six weeks when the tide is right, anchoring as the tide goes out. From a place called Lubok ramo-ramo, they use boats that range from five to twenty tons, and the smaller boats can go as far as a fall or cascade at Seluka, near the borders of Menangkabau. The fact that the tide can reach such an extraordinary distance shows just how flat the land is along the rivers' paths.
JAMBI.
Jambi.
Jambi River has its principal source in the Limun country. Although of considerable size it is inferior to Siak and Indragiri. At an early stage of European commerce in these parts it was of some importance, and both the English and Dutch had factories there; the former on a small island near the mouth, and the latter at some distance up the river. The town of Jambi is situated at the distance of about sixty miles from the sea, and we find in the work of the historian, Faria y Sousa, that in the year 1629 a Portuguese squadron was employed twenty-two days in ascending the river, in order to destroy some Dutch ships which had taken shelter near the town. Lionel Wafer, who was there in 1678 (at which time the river was blockaded by a fleet of praws from Johor), makes the distance a hundred miles. The trade consists chiefly in gold-dust, pepper, and canes, but the most of what is collected of the first article proceeds across the country to the western coast, and the quality of the second is not held in esteem. The port is therefore but little frequented by any other than native merchants. Sometimes, but rarely, a private trading ship from Bengal endeavours to dispose of a few chests of opium in this or one of the other rivers; but the masters scarcely ever venture on shore, and deal with such of the Malays as come off to them at the sword point, so strong is the idea of their treacherous character.
The Jambi River primarily originates in the Limun region. While it is fairly large, it is smaller than the Siak and Indragiri rivers. In the early days of European trade in the area, it held some significance, with both the English and Dutch establishing trading posts— the English on a small island near the mouth of the river and the Dutch further upstream. The town of Jambi is located about sixty miles from the sea, and according to the historian Faria y Sousa, a Portuguese fleet spent twenty-two days sailing upstream in 1629 to destroy Dutch ships that had taken refuge near the town. Lionel Wafer, who visited in 1678 when a fleet of praws from Johor was blockading the river, noted the distance as a hundred miles. The main exports include gold-dust, pepper, and canes, but most of the gold-dust is transported across the land to the western coast, and the pepper isn't highly regarded. As a result, the port sees little traffic apart from local merchants. Occasionally, but rarely, a private trading ship from Bengal attempts to sell a few chests of opium in this river or others; however, the captains seldom risk going ashore and only conduct business with Malays who come out to them while armed, reflecting a strong belief in their treachery.
PALEMBANG.
PALEMBANG.
The kingdom of Palembang is one of considerable importance, and its river ranks amongst the largest in the island. It takes its rise in the district of Musi, immediately at the back of the range of hills visible from Bencoolen, and on that account has the name of Ayer Musi in the early part of its course, but in the lower is more properly named the Tatong.
The kingdom of Palembang is quite significant, and its river is one of the largest on the island. It starts in the Musi district, right behind the hills visible from Bencoolen, which is why it’s called Ayer Musi in its upper part, but further down, it’s more accurately known as the Tatong.
SIZE OF RIVER.
RIVER SIZE.
Opposite to the city of Palembang and the Dutch Company's factory it is upwards of a mile in breadth, and is conveniently navigated by vessels whose draft of water does not exceed fourteen feet. Those of a larger description have been carried thither for military purposes (as in 1660, when the place was attacked and destroyed by the Hollanders) but the operation is attended with difficulty on account of numerous shoals.
Opposite the city of Palembang and the Dutch Company's factory, the river spans over a mile in width and can be easily navigated by boats with a draft of up to fourteen feet. Larger vessels have been brought there for military purposes (like in 1660, when the area was attacked and destroyed by the Dutch), but this is challenging due to the many shallow areas.
FOREIGN TRADE.
International Trade.
The port is much frequented by trading vessels, chiefly from Java, Madura, Balli, and Celebes, which bring rice, salt, and cloths, the manufacture of those islands. With opium, the piece-goods of the west of India, and European commodities it is supplied by the Dutch from Batavia, or by those who are termed interlopers. These in return receive pepper and tin, which, by an old agreement made with the sultan, and formally renewed in 1777, are to be exclusively delivered to the Company at stipulated prices, and no other Europeans are to be allowed to trade or navigate within his jurisdiction.
The port is heavily used by trading ships, mainly from Java, Madura, Bali, and Sulawesi, bringing rice, salt, and fabrics made in those islands. The Dutch supply opium, piece-goods from West India, and European products from Batavia, or from those referred to as interlopers. In exchange, they receive pepper and tin, which, by an old agreement with the sultan that was formally renewed in 1777, are to be exclusively delivered to the Company at agreed prices, and no other Europeans are permitted to trade or navigate within his territory.
DUTCH FACTORY.
Dutch factory.
In order to enforce these conditions the Dutch are permitted to maintain a fort on the river with a garrison of fifty or sixty men (which cannot be exceeded without giving umbrage), and to keep its own cruisers to prevent smuggling. The quantity of pepper thus furnished was from one to two millions of pounds per annum. Of tin the quantity was about two millions of pounds, one third of which was shipped (at Batavia) for Holland, and the remainder sent to China. It has already been stated that this tin is the produce of the island of Bangka, situated near the mouth of the river, which may be considered as an entire hill of tin-sand. The works, of which a particular account is given in Volume 3 of the Batavian Transactions, are entirely in the hands of Chinese settlers. In the year 1778 the Company likewise received thirty-seven thousand bundles of rattans.
To enforce these conditions, the Dutch are allowed to maintain a fort on the river with a garrison of fifty or sixty men (which cannot be exceeded without causing offense), and to have their own cruisers to prevent smuggling. The amount of pepper supplied was between one and two million pounds per year. For tin, the quantity was about two million pounds, with one-third shipped (at Batavia) to Holland, and the rest sent to China. It has already been mentioned that this tin comes from the island of Bangka, located near the mouth of the river, which can be considered a complete hill of tin-sand. The operations, which are described in detail in Volume 3 of the Batavian Transactions, are entirely managed by Chinese settlers. In 1778, the Company also received thirty-seven thousand bundles of rattans.
LOW COUNTRY.
Lowcountry.
The lower parts of the country of Palembang towards the sea-coast are described as being flat marshy land, and with the exception of some few tracts entirely unfit for the purposes of cultivation. It is generally understood to have been all covered by the sea in former ages, not only from its being observed that the strand yearly gains an accession, but also that, upon digging the earth at some distance inland, sea-shells, and even pieces of boat-timber, are discovered.
The lower areas of Palembang, closer to the coast, are described as flat, marshy land, mostly unsuitable for farming, except for a few small sections. It's commonly believed that this region used to be completely underwater, not only because the shoreline is gradually expanding each year, but also because when you dig a bit inland, you find seashells and even fragments of boat wood.
INTERIOR COUNTRY. ITS TRADE.
COUNTRY INTERIOR. ITS TRADE.
The interior or upland districts on the contrary are very productive, and there the pepper is cultivated, which the king's agent (for trade in these parts is usually monopolized by the sovereign power) purchases at a cheap rate. In return he supplies the country people with opium, salt, and piece-goods, forming the cargoes of large boats (some of them sixty-six feet in length and seven in breadth, from a single tree) which are towed against the stream. The goods intended for Passummah are conveyed to a place called Muara Mulang, which is performed in fourteen days, and from thence by land to the borders of that country is only one day's journey. This being situated beyond the district where the pepper flourishes their returns are chiefly made in pulas twine, raw silk in its roughest state, and elephants' teeth. From Musi they send likewise sulphur, alum, arsenic, and tobacco. Dragons-blood and gambir are also the produce of the country.
The inland areas, on the other hand, are very productive, and that's where pepper is grown. The king's representative (since trade in this region is usually controlled by the ruling authority) buys it at a low price. In exchange, he provides the local people with opium, salt, and textiles, which are loaded onto large boats (some measuring sixty-six feet long and seven feet wide, carved from a single tree) that are towed upstream. Goods destined for Passummah are taken to a place called Muara Mulang, which takes fourteen days to reach, and from there, it's just a one-day journey by land to the border of that country. Since this area lies beyond where the pepper thrives, their main exports are pulas twine, raw silk in its unrefined state, and elephant tusks. From Musi, they also send sulphur, alum, arsenic, and tobacco. Additionally, the region produces dragon's blood and gambir.
ITS GOVERNMENT.
ITS GOVERNMENT.
These interior parts are divided into provinces, each of which is assigned as a fief or government to one of the royal family or of the nobles, who commit the management to deputies and give themselves little concern about the treatment of their subjects. The pangerans, who are the descendants of the ancient princes of the country, experience much oppression, and when compelled to make their appearance at court are denied every mark of ceremonious distinction.
These inner areas are split into regions, each allocated as a territory or administration to someone from the royal family or the nobility, who delegate management to representatives and hardly worry about how their subjects are treated. The pangerans, who are the descendants of the country’s ancient rulers, face a lot of oppression, and when they are forced to appear at court, they are denied any signs of formal recognition.
SETTLERS FROM JAVA.
Settlers from Java.
The present rulers of the kingdom of Palembang and a great portion of the inhabitants of the city originally came from the island of Java, in consequence, as some suppose, of an early conquest by the sovereigns of Majapahit; or, according to others, by those of Bantam, in more modern times; and in proof of its subjection, either real or nominal, to the latter, we find in the account of the first Dutch voyages, that "in 1596 a king of Bantam fell before Palembang, a rebel town of Sumatra, which he was besieging."
The current rulers of the kingdom of Palembang and many of the city's residents originally came from the island of Java. Some believe this was due to an early conquest by the Majapahit kings, while others argue it was by the Bantam rulers more recently. To support the idea of Palembang's dominance, whether real or just in name, it’s noted in the records of the first Dutch voyages that "in 1596 a king of Bantam fell before Palembang, a rebellious town in Sumatra, which he was trying to capture."
ROYAL FAMILY.
ROYAL FAMILY.
The Dutch claim the honour of having placed on the throne the family of the reigning sultan (1780), named Ratu Akhmet Bahar ed-din, whose eldest son bears the title of Pangeran Ratu, answering to the RaJa muda of the Malays. The power of the monarch is unlimited by any legal restriction, but not keeping a regular body of troops in pay his orders are often disregarded by the nobles. Although without any established revenue from taxes or contributions, the profit arising from the trade of pepper and tin (especially the latter) is so great, and the consequent influx of silver, without any apparent outlet, so considerable, that he must necessarily be possessed of treasure to a large amount. The customs on merchandize imported remain in the hands of the shabhandaras, who are required to furnish the king's household with provisions and other necessaries. The domestic attendants on the prince are for the most part females.
The Dutch proudly claim the honor of putting the current sultan's family on the throne in 1780, known as Ratu Akhmet Bahar ed-din, whose eldest son holds the title of Pangeran Ratu, equivalent to the RaJa muda of the Malays. The king has unlimited power without any legal restrictions, but since he doesn't maintain a regular paid military, his commands are often ignored by the nobles. Even though there isn’t an established income from taxes or contributions, the profits from trade, particularly pepper and tin (especially the latter), are so substantial, and the resulting influx of silver, with no clear outlet, is so significant that he must have a large amount of treasure. The customs duties on imported goods are managed by the shabhandaras, who are expected to provide provisions and other necessities for the king's household. Most of the domestic attendants for the prince are women.
CURRENCY.
CURRENCY.
The currency of the country and the only money allowed to be received at the king's treasury is Spanish dollars; but there is also in general circulation a species of small base coin, issued by royal authority, and named pitis. These are cut out of plates composed of lead and tin, and, having a square hole in the middle (like the Chinese cash), are strung in parcels of five hundred each, sixteen of which (according to the Batavian Transactions) are equivalent to the dollar. In weighing gold the tail is considered as the tenth part of the katti (of a pound and a third), or equal to the weight of two Spanish dollars and a quarter.
The country's official currency and the only money accepted at the king's treasury is Spanish dollars. However, there is also a type of small change that's commonly used, issued by royal authority and called pitis. These coins are made from a mix of lead and tin, and they have a square hole in the middle (similar to Chinese cash). They're strung together in packs of five hundred, with sixteen of these packs (according to the Batavian Transactions) being worth one dollar. When weighing gold, the tail is considered one-tenth of a katti (which is a pound and a third), equivalent to the weight of two Spanish dollars and a quarter.
CITY.
City.
The city is situated in a flat marshy tract, a few miles above the delta of the river, about sixty miles from the sea, and yet so far from the mountains of the interior that they are not visible. It extends about eight miles along both banks, and is mostly confined to them and to the creeks which open into the river. The buildings, with the exception of the king's palace and mosque, being all of wood or bamboos standing on posts and mostly covered with thatch of palm-leaves, the appearance of the place has nothing to recommend it. There are also a great number of floating habitations, mostly shops, upon bamboo-rafts moored to piles, and when the owners of these are no longer pleased with their situation they remove upwards or downwards, with the tide, to one more convenient. Indeed, as the nature of the surrounding country, being overflowed in high tides, scarcely admits of roads, almost all communication is carried on by means of boats, which accordingly are seen moving by hundreds in every direction, without intermission. The dalam or palace being surrounded by a high wall, nothing is known to Europeans of the interior, but it appears to be large, lofty, and much ornamented on the outside. Immediately adjoining to this wall, on the lower side, is a strong, square, roofed battery, commanding the river, and below it another; on both of which many heavy cannon are mounted, and fired on particular occasions. In the interval between the two batteries is seen the meidan or plain, at the extremity of which appears the balerong or hall where the sultan gives audience in public. This is an ordinary building, and serving occasionally for a warehouse, but ornamented with weapons arranged along the walls. The royal mosque stands behind the palace, and from the style of architecture seems to have been constructed by a European. It is an oblong building with glazed windows, pilasters, and a cupola. The burial place of these sovereigns is at old Palembang, about a league lower down the river, where the ground appears to be somewhat raised from having long been the site of habitations.
The city is located in a flat, marshy area a few miles upstream from the river delta, about sixty miles from the sea, and so far from the mountains inland that they aren't visible. It stretches about eight miles along both banks and is mostly confined to them and the creeks that flow into the river. The buildings, except for the king's palace and mosque, are all made of wood or bamboo on stilts and mostly covered with palm-leaf thatch, giving the area an unappealing look. There are also many floating homes, mostly shops, on bamboo rafts tied to posts, and when the owners no longer like their location, they move up or down with the tide to a more convenient spot. Due to the surrounding land being flooded during high tides, it's tough to build roads, so almost all communication happens by boat, with hundreds moving in every direction nonstop. The palace is surrounded by a high wall, so Europeans know very little about the inside, but it seems to be large, tall, and quite decorative on the outside. Right next to this wall, on the lower side, is a strong, square, roofed fort that overlooks the river, with another one below it, both equipped with many heavy cannons that are fired on special occasions. In the space between the two forts is the meidan or open area, at the end of which stands the balerong or hall where the sultan holds public audiences. This is a simple building that occasionally serves as a warehouse but is decorated with weapons along the walls. The royal mosque is located behind the palace and, judging by its architectural style, seems to have been built by a European. It is a rectangular building with glazed windows, pilasters, and a dome. The burial site of these sovereigns is in old Palembang, about a league further down the river, where the land seems to be slightly elevated due to being the site of settlements for a long time.
ENCOURAGEMENT TO FOREIGNERS.
Encouragement for Foreigners.
The policy of these princes, who were themselves strangers, having always been to encourage foreign settlers, the city an lower parts of the river are in a great measure peopled with natives of China, Cochinchina, Camboja, Siam, Patani on the coast of the peninsula, Java, Celebes, and other eastern places. In addition to these the Arabian priests are described by the Dutch as constituting a very numerous and pernicious tribe, who, although in the constant practice of imposing upon and plundering the credulous inhabitants, are held by them in the utmost reverence.
The strategy of these rulers, who were outsiders themselves, has always been to welcome foreign settlers. The city and the lower sections of the river are largely populated by people from China, Cochin-China, Cambodia, Siam, Patani on the peninsula, Java, Celebes, and other eastern regions. Additionally, the Dutch describe the Arabian priests as a large and harmful group who, despite frequently deceiving and robbing the gullible locals, are greatly respected by them.
RELIGION.
RELIGION.
The Mahometan religion prevails throughout all the dominions of the sultan, with the exception of a district near the seacoast, called Salang, where the natives, termed orang kubu, live in the woods like wild animals. The literature of the country is said to be confined to the study of the koran, but opinions of this kind I have found in other instances to be too hastily formed, or by persons not competent to obtain the necessary information.
The Muslim religion is dominant throughout all the sultan's territories, except for a coastal region called Salang, where the locals, known as orang kubu, live in the woods like wild animals. The country's literature is said to be limited to the study of the Quran, but I've found that such views are often reached too quickly or by people who aren't qualified to gather the needed information.
LANGUAGE.
LANGUAGE.
The language of the king and his court is the high dialect of the Javan, mixed with some foreign idioms. In the general intercourse with strangers the conversation is always in Malayan, with the pronunciation (already noticed) of the final o for a.
The language spoken by the king and his court is the elevated dialect of Javan, blended with some foreign phrases. When interacting with outsiders, the conversation is always in Malayan, with the already noted pronunciation of the final "o" as "a."
CHARACTER OF INHABITANTS.
RESIDENTS' CHARACTER.
Amongst the people of Palembang themselves this language (the character of which they employ) is mixed with the common Javan. The Dutch, on whom we must rely for an account of the manners and disposition of these people, and which will be found in Volume 3 page 122 of the Batavian Transactions, describe those of the low country as devoid of every good quality and imbued with every bad one; whilst those of the interior are spoken of as a dull, simple people who show much forbearance under oppression*; but it is acknowledged that of these last they have little knowledge, owing to the extreme suspicion and jealousy of the government, which takes alarm at any attempt to penetrate into the country.
Among the people of Palembang, the language they use is mixed with common Javanese. The Dutch, whom we rely on for an understanding of these people's customs and attitudes, detail this in Volume 3, page 122 of the Batavian Transactions. They describe those from the lowlands as lacking all good qualities and full of bad ones, while the people from the interior are portrayed as dull and simple, showing a lot of patience under oppression; however, it's acknowledged that they have little knowledge of the latter group due to the government's extreme suspicion and jealousy, which becomes alert at any attempt to explore the region.
(*Footnote. A ridiculous story is told of a custom amongst the inhabitants of a province named Blida, which I should not repeat but for its whimsical coincidence with a jeu d'esprit of our celebrated Swift. When a child is born there (say the Palembangers), and the father has any doubts about the honesty of his wife, he puts it to the proof by tossing the infant into the air and catching it on the point of a spear. If no wound is thereby inflicted he is satisfied of its legitimacy, but if otherwise he considers it as spurious.)
(*Footnote. There's a ridiculous story about a custom among the people of a province called Blida, which I wouldn't share except for its funny connection to a clever joke by our famous Swift. When a child is born there (let's say the Palembangers), if the father has any doubts about his wife's fidelity, he tests it by tossing the baby into the air and catching it on the tip of a spear. If the baby isn't hurt, he's convinced it’s his child, but if it is hurt, he believes it's not.)
INTERIOR VISITED BY ENGLISH.
INTERIOR VISITED BY ENGLISH.
This inland district having been visited only by two servants of the English East India Company who have left any record of their journeys, I shall extract from their narratives such parts as serve to throw a light upon its geography. The first of these was Mr. Charles Miller, who, on the 19th of September 1770, proceeded from Fort Marlborough to Bentiring on the Bencoolen river, thence to Pagar-raddin, Kadras, Gunong Raja, Gunong Ayu, Kalindang, and Jambu, where he ascended the hills forming the boundary of the Company's district, which he found covered with lofty trees. The first dusun on the other side is named Kalubar, and situated on the banks of the river Musi. From thence his route lay to places called Kapiyong and Parahmu, from all of which the natives carry the produce of their country to Palembang by water. The setting in of the rains and difficulties raised by the guides prevented him from proceeding to the country where the cassia is cut, and occasioned his return towards the hills on the 10th of October, stopping at Tabat Bubut. The land in the neighbourhood of the Musi he describes as being level, the soil black and good, and the air temperate. It was his intention to have crossed the hills to Ranne-lebar, on the 11th, but missing the road in the woods reached next day Beyol Bagus, a dusun in the Company's district, and thence proceeded to Gunong Raja, his way lying partly down a branch of the Bencoolen river, called Ayer Bagus, whose bed is formed of large pebble-stones, and partly through a level country, entirely covered with lofty bamboos. From Gunong Raja he returned down Bencoolen River on a bamboo raft to Bentiring, and reached Fort Marlborough on the 18th of October. The other traveller, Mr. Charles Campbell, in a private letter dated March 1802 (referring me, for more detailed information, to journals which have not reached my hand), says, "We crossed the hills nearly behind the Sugar-loaf, and entered the valley of Musi. Words cannot do justice to the picturesque scenery of that romantic and delightful country, locked in on all sides by lofty mountains, and watered by the noble river here navigable for very large canoes, which, after receiving the Lamatang and several other streams, forms the Palembang. Directing our course behind the great hill of Sungei-lamo we in three days discovered Labun, and crossed some considerable streams discharging themselves into the river of Kattaun. Our object there being completed we returned along the banks of the Musi nearly to the dusun of Kalubat, at which place we struck into the woods, and, ascending the mountain, reached towards evening a village high up on the Bencoolen River. There is but a single range, and it is a fact that from the navigable part of the Musi river to a place on that of Bencoolen where rafts and sampans may be used is to the natives a walk of no more than eight hours. Musi is populous, well cultivated, and the soil exceedingly rich. The people are stout, healthy looking, and independent in their carriage and manners, and were to us courteous and hospitable. They acknowledge no superior authority, but are often insulted by predatory parties from Palembang." These freebooters would perhaps call themselves collectors of tribute. It is much to be regretted that little political jealousies and animosities between the European powers whose influence prevails on each side of the island prevent further discoveries of the course of this considerable river.
This inland region has only been visited by two servants of the English East India Company who left records of their journeys, so I’ll share parts of their narratives that shed light on its geography. The first was Mr. Charles Miller, who on September 19, 1770, traveled from Fort Marlborough to Bentiring on the Bencoolen River, then to Pagar-raddin, Kadras, Gunong Raja, Gunong Ayu, Kalindang, and Jambu, where he climbed the hills that mark the boundary of the Company's district, discovering they were covered with tall trees. The first dusun on the other side is called Kalubar, located along the banks of the Musi River. From there, his route took him to places named Kapiyong and Parahmu, from which the locals transport their produce to Palembang by water. The onset of the rains and issues with the guides forced him to turn back toward the hills on October 10, stopping at Tabat Bubut. He described the land near the Musi as flat, with rich black soil and a temperate climate. He intended to cross the hills to Ranne-lebar on the 11th, but after losing his way in the woods, he reached Beyol Bagus, a dusun in the Company's district, the next day and continued to Gunong Raja, partly along a branch of the Bencoolen River called Ayer Bagus, which has a bed of large pebbles, and partly through flat land entirely covered in tall bamboos. From Gunong Raja, he floated down the Bencoolen River on a bamboo raft back to Bentiring and arrived at Fort Marlborough on October 18. The other traveler, Mr. Charles Campbell, in a private letter dated March 1802 (referring me to journals which I have not seen), writes, "We crossed the hills just behind Sugar-loaf and entered the Musi valley. Words can’t capture the beautiful scenery of this romantic and serene area, surrounded by tall mountains and fed by the impressive river, which is navigable for very large canoes and, after receiving the Lamatang and several other streams, forms the Palembang. Heading behind the large hill of Sungei-lamo, we discovered Labun in three days and crossed some significant streams flowing into the Kattaun river. After completing our objectives there, we returned along the banks of the Musi nearly to the dusun of Kalubat, where we entered the woods and, climbing the mountain, reached a village high up on the Bencoolen River by evening. There’s just a single range, and it’s a fact that for the locals, it takes no more than an eight-hour walk from the navigable part of the Musi River to a spot on the Bencoolen River where rafts and small boats can be used. Musi is densely populated, well-cultivated, and has extremely rich soil. The people are strong, healthy-looking, and carry themselves with independence, treating us courteously and hospitably. They recognize no higher authority but often face insults from raiding parties from Palembang." These raiders might call themselves tribute collectors. It’s unfortunate that minor political jealousies and conflicts between the European powers that influence both sides of the island hinder further exploration of this significant river.
CHAPTER 20.
THE COUNTRY OF THE BATTAS.
TAPPANULI-BAY.
JOURNEY INTO THE INTERIOR.
CASSIA-TREES.
GOVERNMENTS.
ARMS.
WARFARE.
TRADE.
FAIRS.
FOOD.
MANNERS.
LANGUAGE.
WRITING.
RELIGION.
FUNERALS.
CRIMES.
EXTRAORDINARY CUSTOM.
THE COUNTRY OF THE BATTAS.
TAPPANULI-BAY.
JOURNEY INTO THE INTERIOR.
CASSIA TREES.
GOVERNMENTS.
ARMS.
WARFARE.
TRADE.
FAIRS.
FOOD.
MANNERS.
LANGUAGE.
WRITING.
RELIGION.
FUNERALS.
CRIMES.
UNUSUAL CUSTOM.
BATTAS.
BATTAS.
One of the most considerable distinctions of people in the island, and by many regarded as having the strongest claims to originality, is the nation of the Battas (properly Batak), whose remarkable dissimilitude to the other inhabitants, in the genius of their customs and manners, and especially in some extraordinary usages, renders it necessary that a particular degree of attention should be paid to their description.
One of the most significant differences among the people on the island, and seen by many as a strong claim to originality, is the nation of the Battas (properly Batak). Their remarkable differences from the other inhabitants—especially in their customs and behaviors, and some unusual practices—means that we need to pay special attention to describing them.
SITUATION OF THE COUNTRY.
STATE OF THE NATION.
This country is bounded on the north by that of Achin, from which it is separated by the mountains of Papa and Deira, and on the south by the independent district of Rau or Rawa; extending along the sea-coast on the western side from the river of Singkel to that of Tabuyong, but inland, to the back of Ayer Bangis, and generally across the island, which is narrow in that part, to the eastern coast; but more or less encroached upon by the Malayan and Achinese establishments in the most convenient maritime situations, for the purposes of their commerce. It is very populous, and chiefly in the central parts, where are extensive open or naked plains, on the borders (as it is said) of a great lake; the soil fertile, and cultivation so much more prevalent than in the southern countries, which are mostly covered with woods, that there is scarcely a tree to be seen excepting those planted by the natives about their villages, which are not, as elsewhere, on the banks of rivers, but wherever a strong situation presents itself. Water indeed is not so abundant as to the southward, which may be attributed to the comparatively level surface, the chain of high mountains which extends northwards from the straits of Sunda through the interior of the island, in a great measure terminating with gunong Passummah or Mount Ophir. About the bay of Tappanuli however the land is high and wooded near the coast.
This country is bordered to the north by Achin, separated by the Papa and Deira mountains, and to the south by the independent area of Rau or Rawa. It stretches along the western coastline from the Singkel River to the Tabuyong River, extending inland behind Ayer Bangis, and generally across the island, which is narrow in that section, to the eastern coast. However, it is somewhat encroached upon by the Malay and Achinese settlements at convenient maritime locations for their trade. It has a high population, especially in the central regions, where there are vast open plains, reportedly on the edges of a large lake. The soil is fertile, and farming is much more common than in the southern areas, which are mainly forested, leaving little room for trees except those planted by locals around their villages. These villages are not usually located by rivers but wherever the terrain is favorable. Water is not as plentiful as in the south, likely due to the relatively flat landscape, with a range of tall mountains stretching north from the Sunda Strait through the island's interior, largely culminating at gunong Passummah or Mount Ophir. However, around the bay of Tappanuli, the land is elevated and forested close to the coast.
ITS DIVISIONS.
ITS DIVISIONS.
The Batta territory is divided (according to the information obtained by the English Residents) into the following principal districts; Ankola, Padambola, Mandiling, Toba, Selindong, and Singkel, of which the first has five, the third three, and the fourth five subordinate tribes. According to the Dutch account published in the Transactions of the Batavian Society, which is very circumstantial, it is divided into three small kingdoms. One of these named Simamora is situated far inland and contains a number of villages, and among others those named Batong, Ria, Allas, Batadera, Kapkap (where the district producing benzoin commences), Batahol, Kotta-tinggi (the place of the king's residence), with two places lying on the eastern coast called Suitara-male and Jambu-ayer. This kingdom is said to yield much fine gold from the mines of Batong and Sunayang. Bata-salindong also contains many districts, in some of which benzoin, and in others fine gold, is collected. The residence of the king is at Salindong. Bata-gopit lies at the foot of a volcano-mountain of that name, from whence, at the time of an eruption, the natives procure sulphur, to be afterwards employed in the manufacture of gunpowder. The little kingdom of Butar lies northeastward of the preceding and reaches to the eastern coast, where are the places named Pulo Serony and Batu Bara; the latter enjoying a considerable trade; also Longtong and Sirigar, at the mouth of a great river named Assahan. Butar yields neither camphor, benzoin, nor gold, and the inhabitants support themselves by cultivation. The residence of the king is at a town of the same name.
The Batta territory is divided (based on information from the English Residents) into the following main districts: Ankola, Padambola, Mandiling, Toba, Selindong, and Singkel. The first has five subordinate tribes, the third has three, and the fourth has five. According to a detailed Dutch account published in the Transactions of the Batavian Society, it is split into three small kingdoms. One of these, called Simamora, is located far inland and includes several villages, such as Batong, Ria, Allas, Batadera, and Kapkap (where the district producing benzoin begins), as well as Batahol and Kotta-tinggi (the king's residence), with two locations on the eastern coast known as Suitara-male and Jambu-ayer. This kingdom is said to produce a lot of high-quality gold from the mines at Batong and Sunayang. Bata-salindong also has many districts, some of which produce benzoin and others fine gold. The king's residence is in Salindong. Bata-gopit is located at the base of a volcano of the same name, where locals collect sulfur during eruptions to use in making gunpowder. The small kingdom of Butar lies to the northeast of the previous one and extends to the eastern coast, where you'll find places called Pulo Serony and Batu Bara; the latter has significant trade, along with Longtong and Sirigar, located at the mouth of a large river called Assahan. Butar doesn't produce camphor, benzoin, or gold, and its inhabitants rely on farming for their livelihood. The king's residence is in a town of the same name.
ANCIENT BUILDING.
HISTORIC BUILDING.
High up on the river of Batu Bara, which empties itself into the straits of Malacca, is found a large brick building, concerning the erection of which no tradition is preserved amongst the people. It is described as a square, or several squares, and at one corner is an extremely high pillar, supposed by them to have been designed for carrying a flag. Images or reliefs of human figures are carved in the walls, which they conceive to be Chinese (perhaps Hindu) idols. The bricks, of which some were brought to Tappanuli, are of a smaller size than those used by the English.
High up on the Batu Bara river, which flows into the Straits of Malacca, there's a large brick building. The locals have no stories about how it was built. It's described as square, or several squares, and at one corner stands a very tall pillar, which they believe was meant for carrying a flag. There are carvings of human figures on the walls, which they think are Chinese idols (or maybe Hindu). The bricks, some of which were brought to Tappanuli, are smaller than those used by the English.
SINGKEL.
SINGLE.
Singkel River, by much the largest on the western coast of the island, has its rise in the distant mountains of Daholi, in the territory of Achin, and at the distance of about thirty miles from the sea receives the waters of the Sikere, at a place called Pomoko, running through a great extent of the Batta country. After this junction it is very broad, and deep enough for vessels of considerable burden, but the bar is shallow and dangerous, having no more than six feet at low-water spring-tides, and the rise is also six feet. The breadth here is about three-quarters of a mile. Much of the lower parts of the country through which it has its course is overflowed during the rainy season, but not at two places, called by Captain Forrest Rambong and Jambong, near the mouth. The principal town lies forty miles up the river on the northern branch. On the southern is a town named Kiking, where more trade is carried on by the Malays and Achinese than at the former, the Samponan or Papa mountains producing more benzoin than those of Daholi. It is said in a Dutch manuscript that in three days' navigation above the town of Singkel you come to a great lake, the extent of which is not known.
The Singkel River, the largest on the western coast of the island, starts in the distant Daholi mountains in Achin territory. About thirty miles from the sea, it collects water from the Sikere River at a spot called Pomoko, flowing through a large area of Batta country. After this confluence, the river is wide and deep enough for sizable vessels, but the bar is shallow and treacherous, with no more than six feet of water at low spring tides, and the rise is also six feet. The river is approximately three-quarters of a mile wide at this point. Much of the surrounding area floods during the rainy season, except for two places, referred to by Captain Forrest as Rambong and Jambong, near the mouth of the river. The main town is located forty miles upstream on the northern branch. On the southern branch is a town called Kiking, where Malay and Achinese traders conduct more business than in the northern town, as the Samponan or Papa mountains produce more benzoin than those in Daholi. According to a Dutch manuscript, three days of navigation above the town of Singkel leads to a large lake, the size of which remains unknown.
Barus, the next place of any consequence to the southward, is chiefly remarkable for having given name throughout the East to the Kapurbarus or native camphor, as it is often termed to distinguish it from that which is imported from Japan and China, as already explained. This was the situation of the most remote of the Dutch factories, long since withdrawn. It is properly a Malayan establishment, governed by a raja, a bandhara, and eight pangulus, and with this peculiarity, that the rajas and bandharas must be alternately and reciprocally of two great families, named Dulu and D'ilhir. The assumed jurisdiction is said to have extended formerly to Natal. The town is situated about a league from the coast, and two leagues farther inland are eight small villages inhabited by Battas, the inhabitants of which purchase the camphor and benzoin from the people of the Diri mountains, extending from the southward of Singkel to the hill of Lasa, behind Barus, where the Tobat district commences.
Barus, the next notable place to the south, is mainly known for giving its name to the Kapurbarus or native camphor, which is usually referred to this way to distinguish it from the camphor imported from Japan and China, as previously mentioned. This was the location of the most distant Dutch trading posts, which have long since closed. It's essentially a Malay establishment, governed by a raja, a bandhara, and eight pangulus, with the unique feature that the rajas and bandharas must come alternately and reciprocally from two major families, Dulu and D'ilhir. Historically, their jurisdiction is said to have extended as far as Natal. The town is located about a mile from the coast, and two miles further inland are eight small villages populated by the Battas, who buy camphor and benzoin from the people of the Diri mountains, stretching from south of Singkel to the hill of Lasa, behind Barus, where the Tobat district begins.
TAPPANULI.
Tapanuli.
The celebrated bay of Tappanuli stretches into the heart of the Batta country, and its shores are everywhere inhabited by that people, who barter the produce of their land for the articles they stand in need of from abroad, but do not themselves make voyages by sea. Navigators assert that the natural advantages of this bay are scarcely surpassed in any other part of the globe; that all the navies of the world might ride there with perfect security in every weather; and that such is the complication of anchoring-places within each other that a large ship could be so hid in them as not to be found without a tedious search. At the island of Punchong kechil, on which our settlement stands, it is a common practice to moor the vessels by a hawser to a tree on shore. Timber for masts and yards is to be procured in the various creeks with great facility. Not being favourably situated with respect to the general track of outward and homeward-bound shipping, and its distance from the principal seat of our important Indian concerns being considerable, it has not hitherto been much used for any great naval purposes; but at the same time our government should be aware of the danger that might arise from suffering any other maritime power to get footing in a place of this description. The natives are in general inoffensive, and have given little disturbance to our establishments; but parties of Achinese traders (without the concurrence or knowledge, as there is reason to believe, of their own government), jealous of our commercial influence, long strove to drive us from the bay by force of arms, and we were under the necessity of carrying on a petty warfare for many years in order to secure our tranquillity. In the year 1760 Tappanuli was taken by a squadron of French ships under the command of the Comte d'Estaing; and in October 1809, being nearly defenceless, it was again taken by the Creole French frigate, Captain Ripaud, joined afterwards by the Venus and La Manche; under the orders of Commodore Hamelin. By the terms of the surrender private property was to be secured, but in a few days, after the most friendly assurances had been given to the acting resident, with whom the French officers were living, this engagement was violated under the ill-founded pretence that some gold had been secreted, and everything belonging to the English gentlemen and ladies, as well as to the native settlers, was plundered or destroyed by fire, with circumstances of atrocity and brutality that would have disgraced savages. The garden-house of the chief (Mr. Prince, who happened to be then absent from Tappanuli) at Batu-buru on the main was likewise burned, together with his horses, and his cattle were shot at and maimed. Even the books of accounts, containing the statement of outstanding debts due to the trading-concern of the place were, in spite of every entreaty, maliciously destroyed or carried off, by which an irreparable loss, from which the enemy could not derive a benefit, is sustained by the unfortunate sufferers. It cannot be supposed that the government of a great and proud empire can give its sanction to this disgraceful mode of carrying on war.
The famous bay of Tappanuli reaches into the heart of Batta territory, and its shores are populated by the local people, who trade the products of their land for the goods they need from elsewhere but do not travel by sea themselves. Sailors say that the bay's natural advantages are nearly unmatched anywhere else in the world; all the navies could anchor there safely in any weather, and the intricate anchorage spots are so entwined that a large ship could be hidden in them, hard to find without a lengthy search. On the island of Punchong kechil, where our settlement is located, ships are often moored with a rope to a tree on land. Timber for masts and yards can be easily found in various creeks. Since it’s not conveniently located on the main routes for ships coming and going, and due to its considerable distance from our key Indian operations, it hasn't been utilized much for significant naval purposes; however, our government should recognize the risks of letting any other maritime power establish a presence in such a location. The locals are generally peaceful and have caused little disruption to our establishments, but groups of Achinese traders, possibly acting without their government's knowledge or approval, have aggressively tried to remove us from the bay to protect their commercial interests, leading us to engage in minor warfare for many years to ensure our safety. In 1760, Tappanuli was captured by a fleet of French ships under the command of Comte d'Estaing; then, in October 1809, it was once again taken, this time by the Creole French frigate commanded by Captain Ripaud, later joined by Venus and La Manche, under Commodore Hamelin's orders. According to the surrender terms, private property was supposed to be protected, but just a few days later, despite the friendly assurances given to the acting resident, with whom the French officers were living, this promise was broken under the unfounded claim that some gold had been hidden. Everything belonging to the English gentlemen and ladies, as well as the local settlers, was looted or burned in a way that showed shocking brutality. The house of the chief (Mr. Prince, who was away from Tappanuli at the time) at Batu-buru was also set on fire, along with his horses, while his cattle were shot at and injured. Even the account books, detailing the outstanding debts owed to the local trading operation, were maliciously destroyed or taken, causing irreversible losses that offered no benefit to the enemy. It’s hard to believe that the government of a powerful and proud empire would approve of such disgraceful warfare tactics.
In the Philosophical Transactions for the year 1778 is a brief account of the Batta country and the manners of its inhabitants, extracted from the private letters of Mr. Charles Miller, the Company's botanist, whose observations I have had repeated occasion to quote. I shall now communicate to the reader the substance of a report made by him of a journey performed in company with Mr. Giles Holloway, then resident of Tappanuli, through the interior of the country of which we are now speaking, with a view to explore its productions, particularly the cassia, which at that time was thought likely to prove an object of commerce worthy of attention.
In the Philosophical Transactions from 1778, there's a short account of the Batta country and the customs of its people, taken from the private letters of Mr. Charles Miller, the Company's botanist, whose observations I've often referenced. I will now share with the reader the main points from a report he made about a journey he took with Mr. Giles Holloway, who was then living in Tappanuli, through the interior of the region we're discussing, aiming to explore its resources, especially the cassia, which was considered to have commercial potential at that time.
MR. MILLER'S JOURNEY INTO THE COUNTRY.
MR. MILLER'S JOURNEY INTO THE COUNTRY.
Says Mr. Miller:
Mr. Miller says:
Previously to our setting out on this journey we consulted people who had formerly been engaged in the cassia-trade with regard to the most proper places to visit. They informed us that the trees were to be found in two different districts; namely in the inland parts to the northward of the old settlement at Tappanuli; and also in the country of Padambola, which lies between fifty and sixty miles more to the southward. They advised us to prefer going into the Padambola country, although the more distant, on account of the inhabitants of the Tappanuli country (as they represented) being frequently troublesome to strangers. They also told me there were two kinds of the kulit manis, the one of which, from their account of it, I was in hopes might prove to be the true cinnamon-tree.
Before we set out on this journey, we talked to people who had previously been involved in the cassia trade about the best places to visit. They told us that the trees could be found in two different areas: the inland parts north of the old settlement at Tappanuli, and in the land of Padambola, which is located about fifty to sixty miles further south. They advised us to prefer traveling to the Padambola area, even though it was farther away, because the people in Tappanuli tended to be troublesome to outsiders. They also mentioned that there were two kinds of kulit manis, and from their description, I hoped that one of them might actually be the true cinnamon-tree.
June 21st, 1772. We set out from Pulo Punchong and went in boats to the quallo (mouth or entrance) of Pinang Suri river, which is in the bay, about ten or twelve miles south-east of Punchong. Next morning we went up the river in sampans, and in about six hours arrived at a place called quallo Lumut. The whole of the land on both sides of the river is low, covered with wood, and uninhabited. In these woods I observed camphor trees, two species of oak, maranti, rangi, and several other timber-trees. About a quarter of a mile from that place, on the opposite side of the river, is a Batta kampong, situated on the summit of a regular and very beautiful little hill, which rises in a pyramidical form, in the middle of a small meadow. The raja of this kampong, being informed by the Malays that we were at their houses, came over to see us, and invited us to his house, where we were received with great ceremony, and saluted with about thirty guns. This kampong consists of about eight or ten houses, with their respective padi-houses. It is strongly fortified with a double fence of strong rough camphor planks, driven deep into the earth, and about eight or nine feet high, so placed that their points project considerably outward. These fences are about twelve feet asunder, and in the space between them the buffaloes are kept at night. Without-side these fences they plant a row of a prickly kind of bamboo, which forms an almost impenetrable hedge from twelve to twenty feet thick. In the sapiyau or building in which the raja receives strangers we saw a man's skull hanging up, which he told us was hung there as a trophy, it being the skull of an enemy they had taken prisoner, whose body (according to the custom of the Battas) they had eaten about two months before. June 23rd. We walked through a level woody country to the kampong of Lumut, and next day to Satarong, where I observed several plantations of benzoin-trees, some cotton, indigo, turmeric, tobacco, and a few pepper-vines. We next proceeded to Tappolen, to Sikia, and to Sa-pisang. This last is situated on the banks of Batang-tara river, three or four days' journey from the sea; so that our course had hitherto been nearly parallel to the coast.
June 21, 1772. We left Pulo Punchong and took boats to the mouth of the Pinang Suri River, which is in the bay, about ten or twelve miles southeast of Punchong. The next morning, we traveled up the river in sampans, and after about six hours, we arrived at a place called Quallo Lumut. The land on both sides of the river is low, covered with forest, and uninhabited. In these woods, I noticed camphor trees, two types of oak, maranti, rangi, and several other timber trees. About a quarter of a mile from that spot, on the opposite side of the river, is a Batta village, located on top of a lovely little hill that rises in a pyramid shape in the middle of a small meadow. The raja of this village, after hearing from the Malays that we were at their homes, came over to see us and invited us to his house, where we were received with great ceremony and greeted with about thirty gun salutes. This village has about eight or ten houses, along with their respective rice storage buildings. It is strongly fortified with a double fence made of rough camphor planks driven deep into the ground, standing about eight or nine feet high, with their ends projecting outward. The fences are about twelve feet apart, and the space between them is where the buffaloes are kept at night. Outside these fences, they plant a row of prickly bamboo, forming an almost impenetrable hedge that is about twelve to twenty feet thick. In the building where the raja receives visitors, we saw a human skull hanging up, which he said was displayed as a trophy, belonging to an enemy they had captured, whose body (according to Batta customs) they had eaten about two months earlier. June 23. We walked through a flat, wooded area to the village of Lumut, and the next day to Satarong, where I noticed several plantations of benzoin trees, some cotton, indigo, turmeric, tobacco, and a few pepper vines. We then moved on to Tappolen, then to Sikia, and finally to Sa-pisang. This last village is located on the banks of the Batang-tara River, three or four days' journey from the sea, meaning our path had been nearly parallel to the coast up to that point.
July 1st. We left Sa-pisang and took a direction towards the hills, following nearly the course of the Batang-tara. We travelled all this day through a low, woody, and entirely uncultivated country, which afforded nothing worthy of observation. Our guide had proposed to reach a kampong, called Lumbu; but missing the road we were obliged to wade up the river between four and five miles, and at length arrived at a ladang extremely fatigued; where the badness of the weather obliged us to stop and take up our quarters in an open padi-shed. The next day the river was so swelled by the heavy rain which had fallen the preceding day that we could not prosecute our journey, and were obliged to pass it and the remaining night in the same uncomfortable situation. (This is the middle of the dry season in the southern parts of the island.) July 3rd. We left the ladang and walked through a very irregular and uninhabited tract, full of rocks and covered with woods. We this day crossed a ridge of very steep and high hills, and in the afternoon came to an inhabited and well-cultivated country on the edge of the plains of Ancola. We slept this night in a small open shed, and next day proceeded to a kampong called Koto Lambong. July 5th. Went through a more open and very pleasant country to Terimbaru, a large kampong on the southern edge of the plains of Ancola. The land hereabout is entirely clear of wood, and either ploughed and sown with padi or jagong (maize), or used as pasture for their numerous herds of buffaloes, kine, and horses. The raja being informed of our intentions to come there sent his son and between thirty and forty men, armed with lances and matchlock guns, to meet us, who escorted us to their kampong, beating gongs and firing their guns all the way. The raja received us in great form, and with civility ordered a buffalo to be killed, detained us a day, and when we proceeded on our journey sent his son with a party to escort us. I observed that all the unmarried women wore a great number of tin rings in their ears (some having fifty in each ear), which circumstance, together with the appearance of the country, seemed to indicate its abounding with minerals; but on making inquiry I found that the tin was brought from the straits of Malacca. Having made the accustomed presents to the raja we left Terimbaru, July 7th, and proceeded to Sa-masam, the raja of which place, attended by sixty or seventy men, well armed, met us and conducted us to his kampong, where he had prepared a house for our reception, treating us with much hospitality and respect. The country round Sa-masam is full of small hills but clear of wood, and mostly pasture ground for their cattle, of which they have great abundance. I met with nothing remarkable here excepting a prickly shrub called by the natives Andalimon, the seed-vessels and leaves of which have a very agreeable spicy taste, and are used by them in their curries.
July 1st. We left Sa-pisang and headed towards the hills, mostly following the path of the Batang-tara. We traveled all day through a low, wooded, and completely uncultivated area, which offered nothing worth noting. Our guide had planned to reach a village called Lumbu, but after missing the route, we had to wade up the river for about four to five miles and finally arrived at a farm extremely tired; due to the bad weather, we had to stop and settle in an open rice shed. The next day, the river had swelled so much from the heavy rain that we couldn’t continue our journey and had to spend that night in the same uncomfortable spot. (This is the middle of the dry season in the southern parts of the island.) July 3rd. We left the farm and walked through a very uneven and uninhabited area, full of rocks and covered in woods. That day we crossed a steep ridge of high hills, and in the afternoon we reached an inhabited and well-cultivated area on the edge of the Ancola plains. We slept that night in a small open shed, and the next day we moved on to a village called Koto Lambong. July 5th. We traveled through a more open and very pleasant area to Terimbaru, a large village on the southern edge of the Ancola plains. The land around here is completely cleared of trees and is either plowed and planted with rice or maize, or used as pasture for their many herds of buffalo, cows, and horses. The local raja having heard about our plans to visit sent his son along with about thirty or forty men, armed with lances and matchlock guns, to meet us and escort us to their village, beating gongs and firing their guns the whole way. The raja welcomed us formally and politely ordered a buffalo to be killed, kept us for a day, and when we set off again, sent his son with a group to escort us. I noticed that all the unmarried women wore a large number of tin rings in their ears (some had fifty in each ear), which, along with the look of the area, suggested it might be rich in minerals; however, upon asking, I found that the tin was brought from the Strait of Malacca. After making the usual gifts to the raja, we left Terimbaru on July 7th and headed to Sa-masam, where the local raja met us, accompanied by sixty or seventy armed men, and guided us to his village, where he had prepared a house for us, treating us with great hospitality and respect. The countryside around Sa-masam is full of small hills but clear of trees, mostly used as pasture for their abundant livestock. I encountered nothing notable except for a prickly shrub called Andalimon by the locals, whose seed pods and leaves have a very nice spicy flavor and are used in their curries.
July 10th. Proceeded on our journey to Batang Onan, the kampong where the Malays used to purchase the cassia from the Battas. After about three hours walk over an open hilly country we again came into thick woods, in which we were obliged to pass the night. The next morning we crossed another ridge of very high hills, covered entirely with woods. In these we saw the wild benzoin-tree. It grows to a much larger size than the cultivated kind, and yields a different sort of resin called kaminian dulong or sweet-scented benzoin. It differs in being commonly in more detached pieces, and having a smell resembling that of almonds when bruised. Arrived at Batang Onan in the afternoon. This kampong is situated in a very extensive plain on the banks of a large river which empties itself into the straits of Malacca, and is said to be navigable for sloops to within a day's journey of Batang Onan.
July 10th. We continued our journey to Batang Onan, the village where the Malays used to buy cassia from the Battas. After about three hours of walking through open hilly terrain, we entered thick woods, where we had to spend the night. The next morning, we crossed another ridge of very high hills, completely covered in trees. In these woods, we noticed the wild benzoin tree. It grows much larger than the cultivated version and produces a different type of resin called kaminian dulong or sweet-scented benzoin. It typically appears in more separated pieces and has an almond-like scent when crushed. We arrived at Batang Onan in the afternoon. This village is located in a wide plain along the banks of a large river that flows into the straits of Malacca and is said to be navigable by sloops within a day’s journey of Batang Onan.
CASSIA-TREES.
CASSIA TREES.
July 11th. Went to Panka-dulut, the raja of which place claims the property of the cassia-trees, and his people used to cut and cure the bark and transport it to the former place. The nearest trees are about two hours walk from Panka-dulut on a high ridge of mountains. They grow from forty to sixty feet high, and have large spreading heads. They are not cultivated, but grow in the woods. The bark is commonly taken from the bodies of the trees of a foot or foot and half diameter; the bark being so thin, when the trees are younger, as to lose all its qualities very soon. I here inquired for the different sorts of cassia-tree of which I had been told, but was now informed that there was only one sort, and that the difference they mentioned was occasioned entirely by the soil and situation in which the trees grow; that those which grow in a rocky dry soil have red shoots, and their bark is of superior quality to that of trees which grow in moist clay, whose shoots are green. I also endeavoured to get some information with regard to their method of curing and quilling the cassia, and told them my intentions of trying some experiments towards improving its quality and rendering it more valuable. They told me that none had been cut for two years past, on account of a stop being put to the purchases at Tappanuli; and that if I was come with authority to open the trade I should call together the people of the neighbouring kampongs, kill a buffalo for them, and assure them publicly that the cassia would be again received; in which case they would immediately begin to cut and cure it, and would willingly follow any instructions I should give them; but that otherwise they would take no trouble about it. I must observe that I was prevented from getting so satisfactory an account of the cassia as I could have wished by the ill-behaviour of the person who accompanied us as guide, from whom, by his thorough knowledge of the country, and of the cassia-trade, of which he had formerly been the chief manager, we thought we had reason to expect all requisite assistance and information, but who not only refused to give it, but prevented as much as possible our receiving any from the country people. July 14th. We left Batang Onan in order to return, stopped that night at a kampong called Koto Moran, and the next evening reached Sa-masam; from whence we proceeded by a different road from what we had travelled before to Sapisang, where we procured sampans, and went down the Batang-tara river to the sea. July 22nd we returned to Pulo Punchong.
July 11th. I went to Panka-dulut, whose raja claims ownership of the cassia trees. His people used to cut, cure the bark, and transport it to the previous location. The closest trees are about a two-hour walk from Panka-dulut on a high ridge of mountains. They grow from forty to sixty feet tall and have large, spreading canopies. They aren't cultivated but grow wild in the woods. The bark is usually harvested from trees that are about one to one and a half feet in diameter; when the trees are younger, the bark is so thin that it quickly loses its qualities. I asked about the different types of cassia trees I had heard about, but I was told that there is only one type, and the variations mentioned stem from the soil and location of the trees. Those that grow in rocky, dry soil have red shoots, and their bark is of higher quality than that of trees in moist clay, whose shoots are green. I also tried to learn about their methods for curing and rolling the cassia, expressing my intention to experiment with ways to improve its quality and make it more valuable. They informed me that none had been harvested in the past two years due to a halt in purchases at Tappanuli; and that if I had the authority to reopen the trade, I should gather the people from the neighboring kampongs, slaughter a buffalo for them, and publicly assure them that the cassia would be accepted again; in which case they would immediately start cutting and curing it and would gladly follow any instructions I provided. Otherwise, they would not make the effort. I must note that my quest for detailed information about cassia was hindered by the poor behavior of the person who was guiding us. We had expected assistance and information from him due to his extensive knowledge of the area and previous experience as the chief manager of the cassia trade, but he not only refused to share information but also did everything he could to prevent us from getting any from the locals. July 14th. We left Batang Onan to return, spending the night in a kampong called Koto Moran, and reached Sa-masam the next evening. From there, we took a different route than before to Sapisang, where we obtained sampans and traveled down the Batang-tara river to the sea. On July 22nd, we returned to Pulo Punchong.
End of Mr. Miller's Narrative.
Mr. Miller's Story Ends Here.
It has since been understood that they were intentionally misled, and taken by a circuitous route to prevent their seeing a particular kampong of some consideration at the back of Tappanuli, or for some other interested object. Near the latter place, on the main, Mr. John Marsden, who went thither to be present at the funeral of one of their chiefs, observed two old monuments in stone, one the figure of a man, the other of a man on an elephant, tolerably well executed, but they know not by whom, nor is there any among them who could do the same work now. The features were strongly Batta.
It has since become clear that they were intentionally misled and taken on a winding path to keep them from seeing a specific kampong of some significance in the back of Tappanuli, or for some other self-serving reason. Near that area, at the main location, Mr. John Marsden, who went there to attend the funeral of one of their chiefs, noticed two old stone monuments—one depicting a man and the other showing a man on an elephant. They were fairly well crafted, but no one knows who made them, and there isn’t anyone among them who could create similar work today. The features were distinctly Batta.
NATAL.
NATAL.
Our settlement at Natal (properly Natar), some miles to the south of the large river of Tabuyong, and on the confines of the Batta country, which extends at the back of it, is a place of much commerce, but not from its natural or political circumstances of importance in other respects. It is inhabited by settlers there, for the convenience of trade, from the countries of Achin, Rau, and Menangkabau, who render it populous and rich. Gold of very fine quality is procured from the country (some of the mines being said to lie within ten miles of the factory), and there is a considerable vent for imported goods, the returns for which are chiefly made in that article and camphor. Like other Malayan towns it is governed by datus, the chief of whom, styled datu besar or chief magistrate, has considerable sway; and although the influence of the Company is here predominant its authority is by no means so firmly established as in the pepper-districts to the southward, owing to the number of people, their wealth, and enterprising, independent spirit.* It may be said that they are rather managed and conciliated than ruled. They find the English useful as moderators between their own contending factions, which often have recourse to arms, even upon points of ceremonious precedence, and are reasoned into accommodation by our resident going among them unattended. At an earlier period our protection was convenient to them against the usurpation, as they termed it, of the Dutch, of whose attempts and claims they were particularly jealous. By an article of the treaty of Paris in 1763 these pretensions were ascertained as they respected the two European powers, and the settlements of Natal and Tappanuli were expressly restored to the English. They had however already been re-occupied. Neither in fact have any right but what proceeds from the will and consent of the native princes.
Our settlement in Natal (actually Natar), a few miles south of the large Tabuyong River and bordering the Batta territory behind it, is a hub for trade, although it lacks significant natural or political importance otherwise. It's populated by settlers from Achin, Rau, and Menangkabau, drawn there for trade, which makes the area bustling and prosperous. High-quality gold is mined nearby, with some mines reportedly just ten miles from the factory, and there's a strong market for imported goods, mainly exchanged for gold and camphor. Like other Malay towns, it’s governed by datus, with the chief, known as the datu besar or chief magistrate, holding considerable power. Although the Company has a significant influence here, its authority isn't as firmly established as in the pepper districts to the south, due to the population's wealth and independent, entrepreneurial spirit. They tend to be managed and appeased rather than strictly ruled. The locals find the English helpful as mediators between their own conflicting factions, which often resort to violence over issues of ceremonial precedence, but they can be convinced to reach an agreement when our resident interacts with them without an entourage. Previously, our protection was valuable to them against what they considered the Dutch's encroachment, and they were particularly wary of Dutch claims and attempts. An article in the 1763 Treaty of Paris clarified these claims between the two European powers, specifically restoring the settlements of Natal and Tappanuli to the English. However, they had already been reoccupied. In reality, neither holds any rights except those granted by the will and consent of the native princes.
(*Footnote. Upon the re-establishment of the factory in 1762 the resident pointed out to the Datu besar, with a degree of indignation, the number of dead bodies which were frequently seen floating down the river, and proposed his cooperating to prevent assassinations in the country, occasioned by the anarchy the place fell into during the temporary interruption of the Company's influence. "I cannot assent to any measures for that purpose," replied the datu: "I reap from these murders an advantage of twenty dollars a head when the families prosecute." A compensation of thirty dollars per month was offered him, and to this he scarcely submitted, observing that he should be a considerable loser, as there fell in this manner at least three men in the month. At another time, when the resident attempted to carry some regulation into execution, he said, "kami tradah suka begito, orang kaya!" "We do not choose to allow it, sir;" and bared his right arm as a signal of attack to his dependants in case the point had been insisted on. Of late years habit and a sense of mutual interest have rendered them more accommodating.)
(*Footnote. When the factory was reopened in 1762, the resident pointed out to the Datu besar, somewhat indignantly, the many dead bodies often seen floating in the river, and suggested working together to prevent murders in the area, which had descended into chaos during the temporary loss of the Company's influence. "I can't agree to any measures for that," replied the datu: "I make twenty dollars for each murder when the families sue." A compensation of thirty dollars a month was offered to him, but he barely accepted it, claiming he would actually lose out, as at least three men were killed each month. At another time, when the resident tried to enforce a regulation, he said, "kami tradah suka begito, orang kaya!" "We do not wish to allow it, sir;" and he bared his right arm as a signal for his followers to attack if the matter was pressed. In recent years, habit and a sense of mutual interest have made them more cooperative.)
BATTA GOVERNMENTS.
Batta governments.
The government of the Batta country, although nominally in the hands of three or more sovereign rajas, is effectively (so far as our intercourse with the people enables us to ascertain) divided into numberless petty chiefships, the heads of which, also styled rajas, have no appearance of being dependant upon any superior power, but enter into associations with each other, particularly with those belonging to the same tribe, for mutual defence and security against any distant enemy. They are at the same time extremely jealous of any increase of their relative power, and on the slightest pretext a war breaks out between them. The force of different kampongs is notwithstanding this very unequal, and some rajas possess a much more extensive sway than others; and it must needs be so, where every man who can get a dozen followers and two or three muskets sets up for independence. Inland of a place called Sokum great respect was paid to a female chief or uti (which word I conceive to be a liquid pronunciation of putri, a princess), whose jurisdiction comprehended many tribes. Her grandson, who was the reigning prince, had lately been murdered by an invader, and she had assembled an army of two or three thousand men to take revenge. An agent of the Company went up the river about fifteen miles in hopes of being able to accommodate a matter that threatened materially the peace of the country; but he was told by the uti that, unless he would land his men, and take a decided part in her favour, he had no business there, and he was obliged to reembark without effecting anything. The aggressor followed him the same night and made his escape. It does not appear likely, from the manners and dispositions of the people, that the whole of the country was ever united under one supreme head.
The government of Batta country, while officially under the control of three or more sovereign rajas, is actually divided into countless small chiefships. The leaders of these chiefships, also called rajas, don’t seem to be dependent on any higher authority, but they band together, especially with those from the same tribe, for mutual defense and protection against distant enemies. At the same time, they are very protective of their own power, and even a minor dispute can lead to war between them. Despite this, the strength of various kampongs varies greatly, and some rajas have much more influence than others; this is bound to happen when any man with a dozen followers and a few muskets can declare himself independent. Inland near a place called Sokum, a female chief, or uti (which I believe is a variation of the word putri, meaning princess), was highly respected and had authority over many tribes. Her grandson, the reigning prince, had recently been killed by an invader, and she had gathered an army of two to three thousand men to seek revenge. An agent of the Company traveled up the river about fifteen miles, hoping to resolve an issue that threatened the peace of the region, but the uti told him that unless he landed his men and took a firm stand in her favor, he had no place there, so he had to leave without achieving anything. The invader followed him that same night and managed to escape. Given the customs and attitudes of the people, it doesn’t seem likely that the entire country was ever united under one supreme leader.
AUTHORITY OF RAJAS.
POWER OF RAJAS.
The more powerful rajas assume authority over the lives of their subjects. The dependants are bound to attend their chief in his journeys and in his wars, and when an individual refuses he is expelled from the society without permission to take his property along with him. They are supplied with food for their expeditions, and allowed a reward for each person they kill. The revenues of the chief arise principally from fines of cattle adjudged in criminal proceedings, which he always appropriates to himself; and from the produce of the camphor and benzoin trees throughout his district; but this is not rigorously insisted upon. When he pays his gaming debts he imposes what arbitrary value he thinks proper on the horses and buffaloes (no coin being used in the country), which he delivers, and his subjects are obliged to accept them at that rate. They are forced to work in their turns, for a certain number of days, in his rice plantations. There is, in like manner, a lesser kind of service for land held of any other person, the tenant being bound to pay his landlord respect wherever he meets him, and to provide him with entertainment whenever he comes to his house. The people seem to have a permanent property in their possessions, selling them to each other as they think fit. If a man plants trees and leaves them, no future occupier can sell them, though he may eat the fruit. Disputes and litigations of any kind that happen between people belonging to the same kampong are settled by a magistrate appointed for that purpose, and from him it is said there is no appeal to the raja: when they arise between persons of different kampongs they are adjusted at a meeting of the respective rajas. When a party is sent down to the Bay to purchase salt or on other business it is accompanied by an officer who takes cognizance of their behaviour, and sometimes punishes on the spot such as are criminal or refractory. This is productive of much order and decency.
The more powerful leaders take control over the lives of their subjects. The dependents are required to accompany their chief during his travels and in his wars, and if someone refuses, they are expelled from the community without being allowed to take their belongings. They receive food for their journeys and are given a reward for each enemy they kill. The chief's income mainly comes from fines imposed for cattle in criminal cases, which he keeps for himself, and from the harvest of camphor and benzoin trees in his territory, though this isn’t strictly enforced. When he pays his gambling debts, he assigns an arbitrary value to the horses and buffaloes (since there’s no currency in the country) that he provides, and his subjects have to accept them at that value. They are also required to work a few days in his rice fields. Similarly, there’s a lesser requirement for land held by others, where the tenant must show respect to their landlord whenever they meet and provide hospitality whenever the landlord visits. The people seem to have stable ownership of their possessions and can sell them to each other as they wish. If someone plants trees and leaves them, the next person cannot sell them, though they can eat the fruit. Any disputes or legal issues that arise among people from the same village are settled by a designated magistrate, and it is said that there is no appeal to the leader from him. When issues occur between people from different villages, they are resolved in a meeting of the respective leaders. When a group goes to the Bay to buy salt or for other business, they are accompanied by an officer who monitors their behavior and sometimes punishes those who break the rules. This helps maintain order and decency.
SUCCESSION.
SUCCESSION.
It is asserted that the succession to the chiefships does not go in the first instance to the son of the deceased, but to the nephew by a sister; and that the same extraordinary rule, with respect to property in general, prevails also amongst the Malays of that part of the island, and even in the neighbourhood of Padang. The authorities for this are various and unconnected with each other, but not sufficiently circumstantial to induce me to admit it as a generally established practice.
It is claimed that the succession to leadership doesn’t primarily go to the deceased's son, but rather to the sister's nephew. This unusual rule regarding inheritance also applies to property among the Malays in that region of the island, and even near Padang. There are various sources for this, but they are not detailed enough for me to accept it as a widely recognized practice.
RESPECT FOR THE SULTAN OF MENANGKABAU.
RESPECT FOR THE SULTAN OF MENANGKABAU.
Notwithstanding the independent spirit of the Battas, and their contempt of all power that would affect a superiority over their little societies, they have a superstitious veneration for the sultan of Menangkabau, and show blind submission to his relations and emissaries, real or pretended, when such appear among them for the purpose of levying contributions: even when insulted and put in fear of their lives they make no attempt at resistance: they think that their affairs would never prosper; that their padi would be blighted, and their buffaloes die; that they would remain under a kind of spell for offending those sacred messengers.
Despite the Battas' independent spirit and their disdain for any power that tries to dominate their small communities, they have a superstitious respect for the sultan of Menangkabau. They show blind obedience to his relatives and agents, whether real or fake, whenever they come among them to collect contributions. Even when insulted and threatened with their lives, they don't resist. They believe that their affairs would never thrive; that their rice crops would fail and their buffaloes would perish; that they would remain under a sort of curse for offending those sacred messengers.
PERSONS.
People.
The Battas are in their persons rather below the stature of the Malays, and their complexions are fairer; which may perhaps be owing to their distance, for the most part, from the sea, an element they do not at all frequent.
The Battas are generally shorter than the Malays, and their skin is lighter, which might be due to their greater distance from the sea, a place they don’t visit much at all.
DRESS.
Outfit.
Their dress is commonly of a sort of cotton cloth manufactured by themselves, thick, harsh, and wiry, about four astas or cubits long, and two in breadth, worn round the middle, with a scarf over the shoulder. These are of mixed colours, the prevalent being a brownish red and a blue approaching to black. They are fond of adorning them, particularly the scarf, with strings and tassels of beads. The covering of the head is usually the bark of a tree, but the superior class wear a strip of foreign blue cloth in imitation of the Malayan destars, and a few have bajus (outer garments) of chintz. The young women, beside the cloth round the middle, have one over the breasts, and (as noticed in Mr. Miller's journal) wear in their ears numerous rings of tin, as well as several large rings of thick brass wire round their necks. On festival days however they ornament themselves with earrings of gold, hair-pins, of which the heads are fashioned like birds or dragons, a kind of three-cornered breastplate, and hollow rings upon the upper arm, all, in like manner, of gold. The kima shell, which abounds in the bay, is likewise worked into arm-rings, whiter, and taking a better polish than ivory.
Their clothing is usually made from a type of cotton fabric they create themselves, which is thick, rough, and sturdy, about four cubits long and two wide, wrapped around the waist with a scarf over the shoulder. These garments come in various colors, primarily a brownish-red and a deep blue. They like to decorate their outfits, especially the scarves, with strings and tassels made of beads. For head coverings, they typically use tree bark, but those from higher social classes wear strips of foreign blue cloth to mimic the Malayan destars, and a few even have outer garments made of chintz. Young women, in addition to the cloth around their waist, wear one over their breasts and, as noted in Mr. Miller's journal, have many tin rings in their ears, along with several large thick brass wire rings around their necks. On festival days, however, they adorn themselves with gold earrings, hairpins shaped like birds or dragons, a type of three-cornered breastplate, and hollow rings on their upper arms, all made of gold. The kima shell, which is abundant in the bay, is also crafted into arm rings, which are whiter and take a better polish than ivory.
ARMS.
ARMS.
Their arms are matchlock guns, with which they are expert marksmen, bamboo lances or spears with long iron heads, and a side-weapon called jono, which resembles and is worn as a sword rather than a kris. The cartridge-boxes are provided with a number of little wooden cases, each containing a charge for the piece. In these are carried likewise the match, and the smaller ranjaus, the longer being in a joint of bamboo, slung like a quiver over the shoulder. They have machines curiously carved and formed like the beak of a large bird for holding bullets, and others of peculiar construction for a reserve of powder. These hang in front. On the right side hang the flint and steel, and also the tobacco-pipe. Their guns, the locks of which {for holding the match) are of copper, they are supplied with by traders from Menangkabau; the swords are of their own workmanship, and they also manufacture their own gunpowder, extracting the saltpetre, as it is said, from the soil taken from under houses that have been long inhabited (which in consequence of an uncleanly practice is strongly impregnated with animal salts), together with that collected in places where goats are kept. Through this earth water is filtered, and being afterwards suffered to evaporate the saltpetre is found at the bottom of the vessel. Their proper standard in war is a horse's head, from whence flows a long mane or tail; beside which they have colours of red or white cloth. For drums they use gongs, and in action set up a kind of warwhoop.
Their weapons are matchlock guns, and they're skilled marksmen. They also use bamboo lances or spears with long iron tips, and a side weapon called jono, which looks and is worn like a sword instead of a kris. The cartridge boxes come with several small wooden compartments, each holding a charge for the gun. These also carry the match and smaller ranjaus, while the longer ones are stored in a bamboo joint, slung over the shoulder like a quiver. They have intricately carved containers shaped like a large bird's beak for holding bullets and others designed to hold spare powder. These hang in front. On the right side, they carry flint and steel, as well as a tobacco pipe. Their guns, which have copper locks for holding the match, are supplied by traders from Menangkabau; the swords are made by themselves, and they also produce their own gunpowder by extracting saltpetre from the soil beneath long-inhabited houses (which, due to poor hygiene, is heavily infused with animal salts) and collecting it from areas where goats are kept. Water is filtered through this earth, and after it evaporates, saltpetre settles at the bottom of the container. Their war standard is a horse’s head, from which a long mane or tail flows; alongside this, they have flags made of red or white cloth. For drums, they use gongs, and during battle, they create a kind of war whoop.
WARFARE.
Combat.
The spirit of war is excited among these people by small provocation, and their resolutions for carrying it into effect are soon taken. Their life appears in fact to be a perpetual state of hostility, and they are always prepared for attack and defence. When they proceed to put their designs into execution the first act of defiance is firing, without ball, into the kampong of their enemies. Three days are then allowed for the party fired upon to propose terms of accommodation, and if this is not done, or the terms are such as cannot be agreed to, war is then fully declared. This ceremony of firing with powder only is styled carrying smoke to the adversary. During the course of their wars, which sometimes last for two or three years, they seldom meet openly in the field or attempt to decide their contest by a general engagement, as the mutual loss of a dozen men might go near to ruin both parties, nor do they ever engage hand to hand, but keep at a pretty safe distance, seldom nearer than random-shot, excepting in case of sudden surprise. They march in single files, and usually fire kneeling. It is not often that they venture a direct attack upon each other's works, but watch opportunities of picking off stragglers passing through the woods. A party of three or four will conceal themselves near the footways, and if they see any of their foes they fire and run away immediately; planting ranjaus after them to prevent pursuit. On these occasions a man will subsist upon a potato a day, in which they have much the advantage of the Malays (against whom they are often engaged in warfare), who require to be better fed.
The people get stirred up for war over minor provocations, and they quickly decide to act on it. Their lives seem to be in a constant state of conflict, and they’re always ready for both attack and defense. When they decide to carry out their plans, the first act of defiance is to fire blank shots into the village of their enemies. They then give the attacked party three days to propose terms for a settlement; if that doesn't happen, or if the terms suggested can't be accepted, war is officially declared. This act of firing without bullets is referred to as carrying smoke to the opponent. Throughout their wars, which can last two or three years, they rarely confront each other directly in battle or try to resolve their disputes with a large engagement, since the loss of even a dozen men could seriously harm both sides. They never fight hand-to-hand, keeping a safe distance, usually not closer than random shots, unless there’s a sudden ambush. They march in single-file lines and typically shoot while kneeling. They rarely launch direct attacks on each other’s positions but instead look for chances to pick off stragglers in the woods. A group of three or four will hide by the footpaths, and if they spot any enemies, they’ll fire and quickly retreat, laying traps behind them to stop any pursuit. During these times, a man will survive on just one potato a day, giving them a significant advantage over the Malays, who they often fight against, as those need to eat better.
FORTIFICATIONS.
Defensive structures.
They fortify their kampongs with large ramparts of earth, halfway up which they plant brushwood. There is a ditch without the rampart, and on each side of that a tall palisade of camphor timber. Beyond this is an impenetrable hedge of prickly bamboo, which when of sufficient growth acquires an extraordinary density, and perfectly conceals all appearance of a town. Ranjaus, of a length both for the body and the feet, are disposed without all these, and render the approaches hazardous to assailants who are almost naked. At each corner of the fortress, instead of a tower or watch-house, they contrive to have a tall tree, which they ascend to reconnoitre or fire from. But they are not fond of remaining on the defensive in these fortified villages, and therefore, leaving a few to guard them, usually advance into the plains, and throw up temporary breast-works and entrenchments.
They reinforce their villages with high earth walls, halfway up which they plant brushwood. There’s a ditch outside the wall, and on either side of that, there’s a tall fence made of camphor wood. Beyond this, there’s an impenetrable thicket of prickly bamboo, which, when it grows enough, becomes dense enough to completely hide any signs of a town. Sharp stakes, designed for both the body and feet, are positioned outside these defenses, making it dangerous for attackers who are almost unprotected. Instead of towers or watchhouses at each corner of the fortress, they have tall trees, which they climb to scout or shoot from. However, they don’t prefer to stay on the defensive in these fortified villages, so they usually leave a few people to guard them and advance into the plains to create temporary barriers and entrenchments.
TRADE.
Trade.
The natives of the sea-coast exchange their benzoin, camphor, and cassia (the quantity of gold-dust is very inconsiderable) for iron, steel, brass-wire, and salt, of which last article a hundred thousand bamboo measures are annually taken off in the bay of Tappanuli. These they barter again with the more inland inhabitants, in the mode that shall presently be described, for the products and manufactures of the country, particularly the home-made cloth; a very small quantity of cotton piece-goods being imported from the coast and disposed of to the natives. What they do take off is chiefly blue-cloth for the head, and chintz.
The coastal residents trade their benzoin, camphor, and cassia (the amount of gold dust is very small) for iron, steel, brass wire, and salt, of which about a hundred thousand bamboo measures are taken from the bay of Tappanuli each year. They then trade these items with people from the interior, using a method that will be explained shortly, for local products and goods, especially homemade cloth; only a small amount of cotton fabric is imported from the coast and sold to the locals. What they do acquire mostly consists of blue cloth for headwear and chintz.
FAIRS HELD.
Fairs are happening.
For the convenience of carrying on the inland-trade there are established at the back of Tappanuli, which is their great mart, four stages, at which successively they hold public fairs or markets on every fourth day throughout the year; each fair, of course, lasting one day. The people in the district of the fourth stage assemble with their goods at the appointed place, to which those of the third resort in order to purchase them. The people of the third, in like manner, supply the wants of the second, and the second of the first, who dispose, on the day the market is held, of the merchandise for which they have trafficked with the Europeans and Malays. On these occasions all hostilities are suspended. Each man who possesses a musket carries it with a green bough in the muzzle, as a token of peace, and afterwards, when he comes to the spot, following the example of the director or manager of the party, discharges the loading into a mound of earth, in which, before his departure, he searches for his ball. There is but one house at the place where the market is held, and that is for the purpose of gaming. The want of booths is supplied by the shade of regular rows of fruit-trees, mostly durian, of which one avenue is reserved for the women. The dealings are conducted with order and fairness; the chief remaining at a little distance, to be referred to in case of dispute, and a guard is at hand, armed with lances, to keep the peace; yet with all this police, which bespeaks civilization, I have been assured by those who have had an opportunity of attending their meetings that in the whole of their appearance and deportment there is more of savage life than is observed in the manners of the Rejangs, or inhabitants of Lampong. Traders from the remoter Batta districts, lying north and south, assemble at these periodical markets, where all their traffic is carried on, and commodities bartered. They are not however peculiar to this country, being held, among other places, at Batang-kapas and Ipu. By the Malays they are termed onan.
For the convenience of conducting inland trade, four trading posts have been set up at the back of Tappanuli, which is their main market. They hold public fairs or markets every fourth day of the year; each fair lasts for just one day. The people from the fourth trading post come together with their goods at the designated location, where those from the third post go to buy from them. Similarly, the third post supplies the needs of the second, and the second caters to the first, who sell the goods they have traded with Europeans and Malays on the market day. During these events, all hostilities are put on hold. Every person who owns a musket carries it with a green branch in the muzzle as a sign of peace, and when they arrive at the market, they follow the example of the group's leader by firing a shot into a mound of dirt, checking for their bullet before leaving. There is only one building at the market site, and it is used for gaming. The lack of stalls is compensated by rows of fruit trees for shade, mainly durians, with one path set aside for women. Transactions are carried out orderly and fairly; the chief stays nearby to resolve disputes, and there is a guard with lances to maintain peace. Despite this organized presence, which suggests civilization, those who have attended these markets report that the overall demeanor and behavior resemble more of a savage lifestyle than that of the Rejangs or the inhabitants of Lampong. Traders from the more distant Batta regions, located to the north and south, gather at these regular markets to engage in trade and barter goods. These markets are not exclusive to this area, as they also take place in other locations like Batang-kapas and Ipu. The Malays refer to them as onan.
ESTIMATE BY COMMODITIES INSTEAD OF COIN.
ESTIMATE BY COMMODITIES RATHER THAN CASH.
Having no coin all value is estimated among them by certain commodities. In trade they calculate by tampangs (cakes) of benzoin; in transactions among themselves more commonly by buffaloes: sometimes brass wire and sometimes beads are used as a medium. A galang, or ring of brass wire, represents about the value of a dollar. But for small payments salt is the most in use. A measure called a salup, weighing about two pounds, is equal to a fanam or twopence-halfpenny: a balli, another small measure, goes for four keppeng, or three-fifths of a penny.
Without coins, they assess value through certain goods. In trading, they use tampangs (cakes) of benzoin; among themselves, they often use buffaloes. Sometimes, they trade with brass wire or beads. A galang, or ring of brass wire, is worth about a dollar. For smaller payments, salt is used most often. A measure called a salup, weighing about two pounds, is equivalent to a fanam or twopence-halfpenny, while a balli, another small measure, is worth four keppeng, or three-fifths of a penny.
FOOD.
Food.
The ordinary food of the lower class of people is maize and sweet-potatoes, the rajas and great men alone indulging themselves with rice. Some mix them together. It is only on public occasions that they kill cattle for food; but not being delicate in their appetites they do not scruple to eat part of a dead buffalo, hog, rat, alligator, or any wild animal with which they happen to meet. Their rivers are said not to abound with fish. Horse-flesh they esteem their most exquisite meat, and for this purpose feed them upon grain and pay great attention to their keep. They are numerous in the country, and the Europeans at Bencoolen are supplied with many good ones from thence, but not with the finest, as these are reserved for their festivals. They have also, says Mr. Miller, great quantities of small black dogs, with erect pointed ears, which they fatten and eat. Toddy or palm-wine they drink copiously at their feasts.
The typical food for the lower class consists of maize and sweet potatoes, while only the nobles and wealthy indulge in rice. Some people mix the two. Cattle are only killed for food during public occasions, but they aren’t picky eaters, often consuming parts of a dead buffalo, pig, rat, alligator, or any wild animal they come across. Their rivers reportedly don’t have many fish. They consider horse meat to be the finest, and to achieve this, they feed horses grain and take great care of them. There are many horses in the country, and Europeans in Bencoolen get a good supply from there, although the best ones are saved for festivals. Mr. Miller also mentions that they have a lot of small black dogs with pointed ears that they fatten and eat. They drink a lot of toddy or palm wine at their celebrations.
BUILDINGS.
Buildings.
The houses are built with frames of wood, with the sides of boards, and roof covered with iju. They usually consist of a single large room, which is entered by a trap-door in the middle. The number seldom exceeds twenty in one kampong; but opposite to each is a kind of open building that serves for sitting in during the day, and as a sleepingplace for the unmarried men at night. These together form a sort of street. To each kampong there is also a balei, where the inhabitants assemble for transacting public business, celebrating feasts, and the reception of strangers, whom they entertain with frankness and hospitality. At the end of this building is a place divided off, from whence the women see the spectacles of fencing and dancing; and below that is a kind of orchestra for music.
The houses are constructed with wooden frames, with the sides made of boards, and the roof is covered with iju. They usually have a single large room, which is accessed through a trapdoor in the center. The number of houses rarely exceeds twenty in one kampong; however, facing each house is an open structure that serves as a sitting area during the day and as sleeping quarters for the unmarried men at night. Together, these create a sort of street. Each kampong also has a balei, where the residents gather to handle public affairs, celebrate festivals, and welcome visitors, whom they greet with warmth and hospitality. At the back of this building, there is a designated area where women can watch performances of fencing and dancing; beneath that, there is a space for music.
DOMESTIC MANNERS.
Home Etiquette.
The men are allowed to marry as many wives as they please, or can afford, and to have half a dozen is not uncommon. Each of these sits in a different part of the large room, and sleeps exposed to the others; not being separated by any partition or distinction of apartments. Yet the husband finds it necessary to allot to each of them their several fireplaces and cooking utensils, where they dress their own victuals separately, and prepare his in turns. How is this domestic state and the flimsiness of such an imaginary barrier to be reconciled with our ideas of the furious, ungovernable passions of love and jealousy supposed to prevail in an eastern harem? or must custom be allowed to supersede all other influence, both moral and physical? In other respects they differ little in their customs relating to marriage from the rest of the island. The parents of the girl always receive a valuable consideration (in buffaloes or horses) from the person to whom she is given in marriage; which is returned when a divorce takes place against the man's inclination. The daughters as elsewhere are looked upon as the riches of the fathers.
Men are allowed to marry as many wives as they want or can afford, and having half a dozen is not uncommon. Each wife sits in a different part of the large room and sleeps in view of the others, without any partitions or separate spaces. However, the husband finds it necessary to assign each of them their own fireplaces and cooking tools, where they prepare their own meals separately and take turns cooking for him. How can this domestic arrangement and the weakness of such a made-up barrier be reconciled with our ideas of the intense, uncontrollable emotions of love and jealousy that are thought to exist in an eastern harem? Or should we assume that custom overrides all other influences, both moral and physical? In other ways, their marriage customs are similar to those on the rest of the island. The girl's parents always receive a valuable consideration (in buffaloes or horses) from the man she is married to, which is returned when a divorce occurs, even if the man doesn't want it to happen. Daughters, like elsewhere, are seen as the wealth of their fathers.
CONDITION OF WOMEN.
Womens' rights.
The condition of the women appears to be no other than that of slaves, the husbands having the power of selling their wives and children. They alone, beside the domestic duties, work in the rice plantations. These are prepared in the same mode as in the rest of the island; except that in the central parts, the country being clearer, the plough and harrow, drawn by buffaloes, are more used. The men, when not engaged in war, their favourite occupation, commonly lead an idle, inactive life, passing the day in playing on a kind of flute, crowned with garlands of flowers; among which the globe-amaranthus, a native of the country, mostly prevails.
The situation of the women seems to be nothing more than that of slaves, with husbands having the authority to sell their wives and children. They alone, in addition to their household responsibilities, work on the rice plantations. These are prepared in the same way as in the rest of the island; except that in the central areas, where the land is clearer, plows and harrows pulled by buffaloes are used more often. The men, when not involved in war, their preferred activity, generally lead a lazy, inactive life, spending their days playing a type of flute, adorned with flower garlands, mostly featuring globe amaranth, a native plant.
HORSERACING.
Horse racing.
They are said however to hunt deer on horseback, and to be attached to the diversion of horseracing. They ride boldly without a saddle or stirrups, frequently throwing their hands upwards whilst pushing their horse to full speed. The bit of the bridle is of iron, and has several joints; the head-stall and reins of rattan: in some parts the reins, or halter rather, is of iju, and the bit of wood. They are, like the rest of the Sumatrans, much addicted to gaming, and the practice is under no kind of restraint, until it destroys itself by the ruin of one of the parties. When a man loses more money than he is able to pay he is confined and sold as a slave; being the most usual mode by which they become such. A generous winner will sometimes release his unfortunate adversary upon condition of his killing a horse and making a public entertainment.
They say that they hunt deer on horseback and enjoy horse racing. They ride boldly without saddles or stirrups, often raising their hands as they urge their horse to full speed. The bit of the bridle is made of iron and has several joints; the headstall and reins are made of rattan. In some areas, the reins, or halter, are made of iju, and the bit is wooden. Like other people from Sumatra, they have a strong habit of gambling, and there's practically no control over it until it leads to someone's downfall. When a man loses more money than he can pay back, he is imprisoned and sold as a slave, which is the most common way they end up in that situation. A generous winner may sometimes free his unfortunate opponent on the condition that he kills a horse and throws a public celebration.
LANGUAGE.
LANGUAGE.
They have, as was before observed, a language and written character peculiar to themselves, and which may be considered, in point of originality, as equal at least to any other in the island, and although, like the languages of Java, Celebes, and the Philippines, it has many terms in common with the Malayan (being all, in my judgment, from one common stock), yet, in the way of encroachment, from the influence, both political and religious, acquired by its immediate neighbours, the Batta tongue appears to have experienced less change than any other. For a specimen of its words, its alphabet, and the rules by which the sound of its letters is modified and governed, the reader is referred to the Table and Plate above. It is remarkable that the proportion of the people who are able to read and write is much greater than of those who do not; a qualification seldom observed in such uncivilized parts of the world, and not always found in the more polished.
They have, as mentioned earlier, a unique language and writing system of their own, which can be considered at least as original as any other in the island. Although, like the languages of Java, Celebes, and the Philippines, it shares many terms with Malayan (since, in my opinion, they all come from a common origin), the Batta language seems to have undergone less change than any other due to the political and religious influence from its neighboring regions. For examples of its words, alphabet, and the rules that modify and govern the pronunciation of its letters, the reader is referred to the Table and Plate above. It's noteworthy that the proportion of people who can read and write is much higher than those who cannot; this is a skill rarely found in such uncivilized areas of the world and not always present in more sophisticated ones.
WRITING.
Writing.
Their writing for common purposes is, like that already described in speaking of the Rejangs, upon pieces of bamboo.
Their writing for everyday uses, similar to what was already mentioned about the Rejangs, is on pieces of bamboo.
BOOKS.
Books.
Their books (and such they may with propriety be termed) are composed of the inner bark of a certain tree cut into long slips and folded in squares, leaving part of the wood at each extremity to serve for the outer covering. The bark for this purpose is shaved smooth and thin, and afterwards rubbed over with rice-water. The pen they use is a twig or the fibre of a leaf, and their ink is made of the soot of dammar mixed with the juice of the sugar-cane. The contents of their books are little known to us. The writing of most of those in my possession is mixed with uncouth representations of scolopendra and other noxious animals, and frequent diagrams, which imply their being works of astrology and divination. These they are known to consult in all the transactions of life, and the event is predicted by the application of certain characters marked on a slip of bamboo, to the lines of the sacred book, with which a comparison is made. But this is not their only mode of divining. Before going to war they kill a buffalo or a fowl that is perfectly white, and by observing the motion of the intestines judge of the good or ill fortune likely to attend them; and the priest who performs this ceremony had need to be infallible, for if he predicts contrary to the event it is said that he is sometimes punished with death for his want of skill. Exclusively however of these books of necromancy there are others containing legendary and mythological tales, of which latter a sample will be given under the article of religion.
Their books (which is a fitting term) are made from the inner bark of a specific tree, cut into long strips and folded into squares, leaving some of the wood at both ends to act as the outer cover. The bark is shaved smooth and thin, then coated with rice water. They use a twig or the fiber of a leaf as a pen, and their ink is made from the soot of dammar mixed with sugarcane juice. We know little about what’s in their books. Most of those I have contain strange drawings of centipedes and other harmful creatures, and often include diagrams, suggesting they are related to astrology and divination. They consult these books for all aspects of life, predicting outcomes by comparing certain characters marked on a bamboo strip to the lines in the sacred book. But this isn’t their only way of divining. Before going to war, they will sacrifice a completely white buffalo or chicken and interpret the movements of its intestines to determine their fate; the priest who performs this ritual must be accurate, as he can sometimes be punished with death for making wrong predictions. Aside from these books of necromancy, there are others containing legendary and mythological stories, with examples provided in the section on religion.
REMARK BY DR. LEYDEN.
REMARK BY DR. LEYDEN.
Dr. Leyden, in his Dissertation on the Languages and Literature of the Indo-Chinese nations, says that the Batta character is written neither from right to left, nor from left to right, nor from top to bottom, but in a manner directly opposite to that of the Chinese, from the bottom to the top of the line, and that I have conveyed an erroneous idea of their natural form by arranging the characters horizontally instead of placing them in a perpendicular line. Not having now the opportunity of verifying by ocular proof what I understood to be the practical order of their writing, namely, from left to right (in the manner of the Hindus, who, there is reason to believe, were the original instructors of all these people), I shall only observe that I have among my papers three distinct specimens of the Batta alphabet, written by different natives at different periods, and all of them are horizontal. But I am at the same time aware that as this was performed in the presence of Europeans, and upon our paper, they might have deviated from their ordinary practice, and that the evidence is therefore not conclusive. It might be presumed indeed that the books themselves would be sufficient criterion; but according to the position in which they are held they may be made to sanction either mode, although it is easy to determine by simple inspection the commencement of the lines. In the Batavian Transactions (Volume 3 page 23) already so often quoted, it is expressly said that these people write like Europeans from the left hand towards the right: and in truth it is not easy to conceive how persons making use of ink can conduct the hand from the bottom to the top of a page without marring their own performance. But still a matter of fact, if such it be, cannot give way to argument, and I have no object but to ascertain the truth.
Dr. Leyden, in his Dissertation on the Languages and Literature of the Indo-Chinese nations, notes that the Batta script is written neither from right to left, nor from left to right, nor from top to bottom, but the opposite of Chinese, which runs from the bottom to the top of the line. He mentions that I have conveyed an incorrect notion of their natural form by arranging the characters horizontally instead of stacking them vertically. Without the chance to verify firsthand what I believed to be their typical writing method, which is from left to right (similar to the Hindus, who likely taught these practices to all these people), I can only state that I have three distinct examples of the Batta alphabet in my files, written by different natives at different times, and all of them are horizontal. However, I recognize that since this was done in front of Europeans and on our paper, they may have altered their usual practice, so the evidence isn't definitive. One might think that the books themselves would be a reliable indicator; however, depending on how they're held, they can seem to support either direction, although it's easy to see where the lines begin. In the Batavian Transactions (Volume 3 page 23), which has been frequently cited, it explicitly states that these people write like Europeans, from left to right. In reality, it's hard to imagine how people using ink could move their hand from the bottom to the top of a page without ruining their writing. Still, a matter of fact, if that's what it is, should not bow to argument, and my only goal is to uncover the truth.
RELIGION.
Spirituality.
Their religion, like that of all other inhabitants of the island who are not Mahometans, is so obscure in its principles as scarcely to afford room to say that any exists among them. Yet they have rather more of ceremony and observance than those of Rejang or Passummah, and there is an order of persons by them called guru (a well-known Hindu term), who may be denominated priests, as they are employed in administering oaths, foretelling lucky and unlucky days, making sacrifices, and the performance of funeral rites. For a knowledge of their theogony we are indebted to M. Siberg, governor of the Dutch settlements on the coast of Sumatra, by whom the following account was communicated to the late M. Radermacher, a distinguished member of the Batavian Society, and by him published in its Transactions.
Their religion, like that of all the other inhabitants of the island who are not Muslims, is so vague in its beliefs that it's hard to say it really exists. However, they have a bit more ceremony and observance than those in Rejang or Passummah, and there is a group among them called guru (a well-known Hindu term), who can be considered priests, as they are involved in administering oaths, predicting lucky and unlucky days, making sacrifices, and conducting funeral rites. We owe our understanding of their creation myths to M. Siberg, the governor of the Dutch settlements on the coast of Sumatra, who shared the following account with the late M. Radermacher, a prominent member of the Batavian Society, and it was published in its Transactions.
MYTHOLOGY.
MYTHOLOGY.
The inhabitants of this country have many fabulous stories, which shall be briefly mentioned. They acknowledge three deities as rulers of the world, who are respectively named Batara-guru, Sori-pada, and Mangalla-bulang. The first, say they, bears rule in heaven, is the father of all mankind, and partly, under the following circumstances, creator of the earth, which from the beginning of time had been supported on the head of Naga-padoha, but, growing weary at length, he shook his head, which occasioned the earth to sink, and nothing remained in the world excepting water. They do not pretend to a knowledge of the creation of this original earth and water, but say that at the period when the latter covered everything, the chief deity, Bataraguru, had a daughter named Puti-orla-bulan, who requested permission to descend to these lower regions, and accordingly came down on a white owl, accompanied by a dog; but not being able, by reason of the waters, to continue there, her father let fall from heaven a lofty mountain, named Bakarra, now situated in the Batta country, as a dwelling for his child; and from this mountain all other land gradually proceeded. The earth was once more supported on the three horns of Naga-padoha, and that he might never again suffer it to fall off Batara-guru sent his son, named Layang-layang-mandi (literally the dipping swallow) to bind him hand and foot. But to his occasionally shaking his head they ascribe the effect of earthquakes. Puti-orla-bulan had afterwards, during her residence on earth, three sons and three daughters, from whom sprang the whole human race.
The people of this country have many incredible stories, which I'll briefly summarize. They recognize three deities as rulers of the world, named Batara-guru, Sori-pada, and Mangalla-bulang. According to them, the first one rules in heaven, is the father of all humanity, and is partly, under certain circumstances, the creator of the earth. Initially, the earth was supported on the head of Naga-padoha, but eventually, he grew tired and shook his head, causing the earth to sink and leaving nothing but water. They don't claim to know how this original earth and water were created, but they say that when everything was covered by water, the chief deity, Batara-guru, had a daughter named Puti-orla-bulan. She asked for permission to come down to the lower world, and so she descended on a white owl, accompanied by a dog. However, due to the water, she couldn't stay, so her father dropped a tall mountain, named Bakarra, which is now in the Batta country, as a place for her to live. From this mountain, all other land gradually emerged. The earth was once again supported on the three horns of Naga-padoha, and to ensure it wouldn't fall again, Batara-guru sent his son, named Layang-layang-mandi (which means the dipping swallow), to bind him hand and foot. However, when Naga-padoha occasionally shakes his head, they attribute earthquakes to that. While living on earth, Puti-orla-bulan later had three sons and three daughters, from whom all of humanity descended.
The second of their deities has the rule of the air betwixt earth and heaven, and the third that of the earth; but these two are considered as subordinate to the first. Besides these they have as many inferior deities as there are sensible objects on earth, or circumstances in human society; of which some preside over the sea, others over rivers, over woods, over war, and the like. They believe likewise in four evil spirits, dwelling in four separate mountains, and whatever ill befalls them they attribute to the agency of one of these demons. On such occasions they apply to one of their cunning men, who has recourse to his art, and by cutting a lemon ascertains which of these has been the author of the mischief, and by what means the evil spirit may be propitiated; which always proves to be the sacrificing a buffalo, hog, goat, or whatever animal the wizard happens on that day to be most inclined to eat. When the address is made to any of the superior and beneficent deities for assistance, and the priest directs an offering of a horse, cow, dog, hog, or fowl, care must be taken that the animal to be sacrificed is entirely white.
The second of their gods rules the air between earth and heaven, and the third rules the earth; but these two are seen as lesser than the first. In addition to these, they have as many lesser deities as there are visible things on earth or situations in human life; some oversee the sea, others rivers, forests, warfare, and so on. They also believe in four evil spirits, residing in four different mountains, and they blame any misfortune on one of these demons. In such cases, they consult one of their shamans, who uses his skills to find out which demon caused the trouble by cutting a lemon, and how to appease the evil spirit; this usually involves sacrificing a buffalo, pig, goat, or any animal the shaman feels like eating that day. When they ask one of the superior and helpful deities for help, and the priest calls for a sacrifice of a horse, cow, dog, pig, or bird, it’s essential that the animal sacrificed is completely white.
They have also a vague and confused idea of the immortality of the human soul, and of a future state of happiness or misery. They say that the soul of a dying person makes its escape through the nostrils, and is borne away by the wind, to heaven, if of a person who has led a good life, but if of an evil-doer, to a great cauldron, where it shall be exposed to fire until such time as Batara-guru shall judge it to have suffered punishment proportioned to its sins, and feeling compassion shall take it to himself in heaven: that finally the time shall come when the chains and bands of Naga-padoha shall be worn away, and he shall once more allow the earth to sink, that the sun will be then no more than a cubit's distance from it, and that the souls of those who, having lived well, shall remain alive at the last day, shall in like manner go to heaven, and those of the wicked, be consigned to the before-mentioned cauldron, intensely heated by the near approach of the sun's rays, to be there tormented by a minister of Batara-guru, named Suraya-guru, until, having expiated their offences, they shall be thought worthy of reception into the heavenly regions.
They have a vague and unclear idea about the immortality of the human soul and a future state of happiness or suffering. They believe that when someone dies, their soul escapes through the nostrils and is carried away by the wind. If the person lived a good life, the soul goes to heaven; if they were a wrongdoer, it heads to a huge cauldron where it is exposed to fire until Batara-guru decides it has suffered enough for its sins. Out of compassion, he takes the soul to heaven. They also believe that one day the chains of Naga-padoha will be broken, and the earth will sink again, bringing the sun closer. On that last day, the souls of those who lived righteously will survive and go to heaven, while the souls of the wicked will be sent to the previously mentioned cauldron, heated by the sun's rays, where they will be tormented by a servant of Batara-guru named Suraya-guru until they have atoned for their wrongs and are deemed worthy of entering the heavenly realms.
To the Sanskrit scholar who shall make allowances for corrupt orthography many of these names will be familiar. For Batara he will read avatara; and in Naga-padoha he will recognise the serpent on whom Vishnu reposes.
To the Sanskrit scholar who can overlook misspelled words, many of these names will be familiar. For Batara, he will read avatara; and in Naga-padoha, he will recognize the serpent on which Vishnu rests.
OATHS.
Vows.
Their ceremonies that wear most the appearance of religion are those practised on taking an oath, and at their funeral obsequies. A person accused of a crime and who asserts his innocence is in some cases acquitted upon solemnly swearing to it, but in others is obliged to undergo a kind of ordeal. A cock's throat is usually cut on the occasion by the guru. The accused then puts a little rice into his mouth (probably dry), and wishes it may become a stone if he be guilty of the crime with which he stands charged, or, holding up a musket bullet, prays it may be his fate in that case to fall in battle. In more important instances they put a small leaden or tin image into the middle of a dish of rice, garnished with those bullets; when the man, kneeling down, prays that his crop of rice may fail, his cattle die, and that he himself may never take salt (a luxury as well as necessary of life), if he does not declare the truth. These tin images may be looked upon as objects of idolatrous worship; but I could not learn that any species of adoration was paid to them on other occasions any more than to certain stone images which have been mentioned. Like the relics of saints, they are merely employed to render the form of the oath more mysterious, and thereby increase the awe with which it should be regarded.
Their ceremonies that most resemble religion are the ones performed when taking an oath and during funeral rites. In some cases, a person accused of a crime who claims innocence is acquitted by solemnly swearing to it, but in other cases, they must undergo a kind of trial by ordeal. On such occasions, a guru usually cuts a rooster's throat. The accused then puts a bit of rice (probably dry) in their mouth and wishes that it may turn into a stone if they are guilty of the crime they are charged with, or they hold up a bullet and pray that it will be their fate to die in battle if that’s the case. In more serious situations, they place a small lead or tin figure in the middle of a dish of rice, surrounded by those bullets; when the person kneels and prays for their rice crop to fail, their cattle to die, and that they themselves may never taste salt (which is both a luxury and a necessity), if they do not tell the truth. These tin figures may be seen as objects of idolatrous worship, but I found no evidence that any form of reverence was given to them on other occasions, just as with certain stone images that have been mentioned. Like the relics of saints, they are simply used to make the form of the oath appear more mysterious, thereby increasing the reverence with which it should be regarded.
FUNERAL CEREMONIES.
Memorial services.
When a raja or person of consequence dies the funeral usually occupies several months; that is, the corpse is kept unburied until the neighbouring and distant chiefs, or, in common cases, the relations and creditors of the deceased, can be convened in order to celebrate the rites with becoming dignity and respect. Perhaps the season of planting or of harvest intervenes, and these necessary avocations must be attended to before the funeral ceremonies can be concluded. The body however is in the meantime deposited in a kind of coffin. To provide this they fell a large tree (the anau in preference, because of the softness of the central part, whilst the outer coat is hard), and, having cut a portion of the stem of sufficient length, they split it in two parts, hollow each part so as to form a receptacle for the body, and then fit them exactly together. The workmen take care to sprinkle the wood with the blood of a young hog, whose flesh is given to them as a treat. The coffin being thus prepared and brought into the house the body is placed in it, with a mat beneath, and a cloth laid over it. Where the family can afford the expense it is strewed over with camphor. Having now placed the two parts in close contact they bind them together with rattans, and cover the whole with a thick coating of dammar or resin. In some instances they take the precaution of inserting a bamboo-tube into the lower part, which, passing thence through the raised floor into the ground, serves to carry off the offensive matter; so that in fact little more than the bones remain.
When a raja or important person dies, the funeral usually lasts for several months. This means the body is kept unburied until nearby and distant chiefs, or commonly, the relatives and creditors of the deceased, can gather to perform the rites with appropriate dignity and respect. Sometimes, the planting or harvest season comes up, and these important tasks must be handled before the funeral ceremonies can be completed. In the meantime, the body is placed in a sort of coffin. To create this, they cut down a large tree (preferably the anau, due to the softness of its core, while the outer layer is hard), and after cutting a section of the trunk long enough, they split it in two, hollowing each half out to form a space for the body, and then fit them back together. The workers make sure to sprinkle the wood with the blood of a young pig, whose meat is given to them as a treat. Once the coffin is prepared and brought into the house, the body is placed inside, on a mat, with a cloth covering it. If the family can afford it, camphor is sprinkled over the body. After that, they tightly bind the two halves together with rattans and cover the entire thing with a thick layer of dammar or resin. In some cases, they also insert a bamboo tube into the lower part, which extends through the raised floor into the ground, allowing any unpleasant materials to drain away, so that mostly just the bones remain.
When the relations and friends are assembled, each of whom brings with him a buffalo, hog, goat, dog, fowl, or other article of provision, according to his ability, and the women baskets of rice, which are presented and placed in order, the feasting begins and continues for nine days and nights, or so long as the provisions hold out. On the last of these days the coffin is carried out and set in an open space, where it is surrounded by the female mourners, on their knees, with their heads covered, and howling (ululantes) in dismal concert, whilst the younger persons of the family are dancing near it, in solemn movement, to the sound of gongs, kalintangs, and a kind of flageolet; at night it is returned to the house, where the dancing and music continues, with frequent firing of guns, and on the tenth day the body is carried to the grave, preceded by the guru or priest, whose limbs are tattooed in the shape of birds and beasts, and painted of different colours,* with a large wooden mask on his face.
When family and friends gather, each person brings a buffalo, pig, goat, dog, chicken, or some other food item, depending on what they can afford. The women bring baskets of rice, which are arranged neatly, and the feasting starts, lasting for nine days and nights, or until the food runs out. On the last day, the coffin is taken outside and placed in an open area, surrounded by the female mourners on their knees, with their heads covered, crying out in a sorrowful chorus. Meanwhile, the younger family members dance nearby in a solemn manner, accompanied by gongs, kalintangs, and a type of flute. At night, the coffin is brought back into the house, where dancing and music continue, along with occasional gunfire. On the tenth day, the body is taken to the grave, led by the guru or priest, whose body is tattooed with images of birds and animals, painted in various colors, and wearing a large wooden mask on his face.
(*Footnote. It is remarkable that in the Bisayan language of the Philippines the term for people so marked, whom the Spaniards call pintados, is batuc. This practice is common in the islands near the coast of Sumatra, as will hereafter be noticed. It seems to have prevailed in many parts of the farther East, as Siam, Laos, and several of the islands.)
(*Footnote. It's interesting that in the Bisayan language of the Philippines, the term for people who are marked, called pintados by the Spaniards, is batuc. This practice is common in the islands near the coast of Sumatra, as will be discussed later. It appears to have been widespread in many areas of the Far East, such as Siam, Laos, and several islands.)
He takes a piece of buffalo-flesh, swings it about, throwing himself into violent attitudes and strange contortions, and then eats the morsel in a voracious manner. He then kills a fowl over the corpse, letting the blood run down upon the coffin, and just before it is moved both he and the female mourners, having each a broom in their hands, sweep violently about it, as if to chase away the evil spirits and prevent their joining in the procession, when suddenly four men, stationed for the purpose, lift up the coffin, and march quickly off with it, as if escaping from the fiend, the priest continuing to sweep after it for some distance. It is then deposited in the ground, without any peculiar ceremony, at the depth of three or four feet; the earth about the grave is raised, a shed built over it, further feasting takes place on the spot for an indefinite time, and the horns and jaw-bones of the buffaloes and other cattle devoured on the occasion are fastened to the posts. Mr. John and Mr. Frederick Marsden were spectators of the funeral of a raja at Tappanuli on the main. Mr. Charles Miller mentions his having been present at killing the hundred and sixth buffalo at the grave of a raja, in a part of the country where the ceremony was sometimes continued even a year after the interment; and that they seem to regard their ancestors as a kind of superior beings, attendant always upon them.
He grabs a piece of buffalo meat, swings it around, throwing himself into wild poses and strange contortions, and then devours the piece with great eagerness. He then slaughters a chicken over the body, letting the blood flow down onto the coffin, and just before it’s moved, he and the female mourners, each holding a broom, sweep around it vigorously, as if to drive away evil spirits and prevent them from joining the procession. Suddenly, four men, stationed for this purpose, lift the coffin and quickly carry it away, as if escaping from a demon, while the priest continues to sweep after it for some distance. It is then buried in the ground without any special ceremony, at a depth of three or four feet; the earth around the grave is raised, a shed is built over it, further feasting occurs at the site for an indefinite period, and the horns and jawbones of the buffaloes and other livestock consumed during the ritual are attached to the posts. Mr. John and Mr. Frederick Marsden witnessed the funeral of a raja in Tappanuli on the main island. Mr. Charles Miller notes that he was present at the slaughter of the one hundred and sixth buffalo at a raja’s grave, in a region where the ceremony could last even a year after the burial; and that they seem to view their ancestors as a kind of superior beings, always present with them.
CRIMES.
CRIME.
The crimes committed here against the order and peace of society are said not to be numerous. Theft amongst themselves is almost unknown, being strictly honest in their dealings with each other; but when discovered the offender is made answerable for double the value of the goods stolen. Pilfering indeed from strangers, when not restrained by the laws of hospitality, they are expert at, and think no moral offence; because they do not perceive that any ill results from it. Open robbery and murder are punishable with death if the parties are unable to redeem their lives by a sum of money. A person guilty of manslaughter is obliged to bear the expense attending the interment of the deceased and the funeral-feast given to his friends, or, if too poor to accomplish this it is required of his nearest relation, who is empowered to reimburse himself by selling the offender as a slave. In cases of double adultery the man, upon detection, is punished with death, in the manner that shall presently be described; but the woman is only disgraced, by having her head shaven and being sold for a slave, which in fact she was before. This distribution of justice must proceed upon the supposition of the females being merely passive subjects, and of the men alone possessing the faculties of free agents. A single man concerned in adultery with a married woman is banished or outlawed by his own family. The lives of culprits are in almost all cases redeemable if they or their connections possess property sufficient, the quantum being in some measure at the discretion of the injured party. At the same time it must be observed that, Europeans not being settled amongst these people upon the same footing as in the pepper-districts, we are not so well acquainted either with the principle or the practice of their laws.
The crimes committed here against the order and peace of society are said not to be numerous. Theft among themselves is almost unheard of, as they are very honest in their dealings with each other; however, if caught, the offender is required to pay back double the value of the stolen goods. They are skilled at stealing from outsiders, especially when the laws of hospitality do not apply, and they don't see it as a moral issue because they think it doesn’t lead to any negative outcomes. Open robbery and murder are punishable by death unless the offenders can pay for their lives with money. A person guilty of manslaughter has to cover the costs of the deceased’s burial and the funeral feast for the friends or, if they are too poor to do this, it falls to their closest relative, who can recoup their costs by selling the offender as a slave. In cases of double adultery, the man caught is punished with death in the manner that will be described shortly; however, the woman is merely disgraced, having her head shaved and being sold into slavery, which essentially was her status beforehand. This system of justice seems to operate on the assumption that women are merely passive subjects while men solely possess the capabilities of free agents. A single man involved in adultery with a married woman is banished or disowned by his own family. The lives of offenders can usually be redeemed if they or their families have enough property, with the amount being somewhat at the discretion of the injured party. It's also important to note that, since Europeans are not settled among these people in the same way as in the pepper regions, we don't fully understand either the principles or the practices of their laws.
EXTRAORDINARY CUSTOM.
Exceptional custom.
The most extraordinary of the Batta customs, though certainly not peculiar to these people, remains now to be described. Many of the old travellers had furnished the world with accounts of anthropophagi or maneaters, whom they met with in all parts of the old and new world, and their relations, true or false, were in those days, when people were addicted to the marvellous, universally credited. In the succeeding ages, when a more skeptical and scrutinizing spirit prevailed, several of these asserted facts were found upon examination to be false; and men, from a bias inherent in our nature, ran into the opposite extreme. It then became established as a philosophical truth, capable almost of demonstration, that no such race of people ever did or could exist. But the varieties, inconsistencies, and contradictions of human manners are so numerous and glaring that it is scarcely possible to fix any general principle that will apply to all the incongruous races of mankind, or even to conceive an irregularity to which some or other of them have not been accustomed.
The most extraordinary of the Batta customs, though certainly not unique to this group, is yet to be described. Many old travelers provided accounts of man-eaters or cannibals they encountered in various parts of the old and new world, and their stories, whether true or false, were widely believed during a time when people were fascinated by the extraordinary. In later ages, when skepticism and scrutiny became more prevalent, several of these claims were found to be false upon investigation, leading people, due to a natural bias, to swing to the opposite extreme. It then became accepted as a near philosophical truth that no such group of people ever existed or could exist. However, the variety, inconsistencies, and contradictions of human behavior are so numerous and striking that it is nearly impossible to establish any general principle applicable to all the diverse races of humanity, or even to imagine an irregularity that some of them haven’t experienced.
EAT HUMAN FLESH.
EAT HUMAN FLESH.
The voyages of our late famous circumnavigators, the veracity of whose assertions is unimpeachable, have already proved to the world that human flesh is eaten by the savages of New Zealand; and I can with equal confidence, from conviction of the truth, though not with equal weight of authority, assert that it is also, in these days, eaten in the island of Sumatra by the Batta people, and by them only. Whether or not the horrible custom prevailed more extensively in ancient times I cannot take upon me to ascertain, but the same historians who mention it as practised in this island, and whose accounts were undeservedly looked upon as fabulous, relate it also of many others of the eastern people, and those of the island of Java in particular, who since that period may have become more humanized.*
The journeys of our recently famous circumnavigators, whose claims are indisputable, have already shown the world that the savages of New Zealand eat human flesh. I can confidently state, based on my belief in the truth, though not with the same level of authority, that it is also, these days, consumed by the Batta people on the island of Sumatra, and by them alone. I cannot determine whether this horrific practice was more widespread in ancient times, but the same historians who mention it happening on this island, and whose accounts were wrongly viewed as myths, also report it among many other Eastern peoples, particularly those from the island of Java, who may have become more civilized since that time.*
(*Footnote. Mention is made of the Battas and their peculiar customs by the following early writers: NICOLO DI CONTI, 1449. "In a certain part of this island (Sumatra) called Batech, the people eat human flesh. They are continually at war with their neighbours, preserve the skulls of their enemies as treasure, dispose of them as money, and he is accounted the richest man who has most of them in his house." ODOARDUS BARBOSA, 1516. "There is another kingdom to the southward, which is the principal source of gold; and another inland, called Aaru (contiguous to the Batta country) where the inhabitants are pagans, who eat human flesh, and chiefly of those they have slain in war." DE BARROS, 1563. "The natives of that part of the island which is opposite to Malacca, who are called Batas, eat human flesh, and are the most savage and warlike of all the land." BEAULIEU, 1622. "The inland people are independent, and speak a language different from the Malayan. Are idolaters, and eat human flesh; never ransom prisoners, but eat them with pepper and salt. Have no religion, but some polity." LUDOVICO BARTHEMA, in 1505, asserts that the people of Java were cannibals previously to their traffic with the Chinese.)
(*Footnote. The Battas and their unique customs are discussed by several early writers: NICOLO DI CONTI, 1449. "In a part of this island (Sumatra) called Batech, the people consume human flesh. They are constantly at war with their neighbors, keep the skulls of their enemies as trophies, use them as currency, and the wealthiest man is considered to be the one who has the most skulls in his home." ODOARDUS BARBOSA, 1516. "There's another kingdom to the south, which is the main source of gold; and another inland region, called Aaru (next to the Batta territory), where the inhabitants are pagans who eat human flesh, primarily that of those they have killed in battle." DE BARROS, 1563. "The natives in the part of the island facing Malacca, known as Batas, consume human flesh and are the most savage and warlike of all the locals." BEAULIEU, 1622. "The inland people are independent, speak a language different from Malay, are idol worshipers, and eat human flesh; they never ransom prisoners but consume them with pepper and salt. They have no religion, but some form of governance." LUDOVICO BARTHEMA, in 1505, claims that the people of Java were cannibals before they began trading with the Chinese.)
They do not eat human flesh as the means of satisfying the cravings of nature, for there can be no want of sustenance to the inhabitants of such a country and climate, who reject no animal food of any kind; nor is it sought after as a gluttonous delicacy.
They don't eat human flesh to satisfy their natural cravings because there's no lack of food for the people living in such a country and climate, who don't turn away any kind of meat; nor is it considered a gluttonous delicacy.
MOTIVES FOR THIS CUSTOM.
REASONS FOR THIS CUSTOM.
The Battas eat it as a species of ceremony; as a mode of showing their detestation of certain crimes by an ignominious punishment; and as a savage display of revenge and insult to their unfortunate enemies. The objects of this barbarous repast are prisoners taken in war, especially if badly wounded, the bodies of the slain, and offenders condemned for certain capital crimes, especially for adultery. Prisoners unwounded (but they are not much disposed to give quarter) may be ransomed or sold as slaves where the quarrel is not too inveterate; and the convicts, there is reason to believe, rarely suffer when their friends are in circumstances to redeem them by the customary equivalent of twenty binchangs or eighty dollars. These are tried by the people of the tribe where the offence was committed, but cannot be executed until their own particular raja has been made acquainted with the sentence, who, when he acknowledges the justice of the intended punishment, sends a cloth to cover the head of the delinquent, together with a large dish of salt and lemons. The unhappy victim is then delivered into the hands of the injured party (if it be a private wrong, or in the case of a prisoner to the warriors) by whom he is tied to a stake; lances are thrown at him from a certain distance by this person, his relations, and friends; and when mortally wounded they run up to him, as if in a transport of passion, cut pieces from the body with their knives, dip them in the dish of salt, lemon-juice, and red pepper, slightly broil them over a fire prepared for the purpose, and swallow the morsels with a degree of savage enthusiasm. Sometimes (I presume, according to the degree of their animosity and resentment) the whole is devoured by the bystanders; and instances have been known where, with barbarity still aggravated, they tear the flesh from the carcase with their teeth. To such a depth of depravity may man be plunged when neither religion nor philosophy enlighten his steps! All that can be said in extenuation of the horror of this diabolical ceremony is that no view appears to be entertained of torturing the sufferers, of increasing or lengthening out the pangs of death; the whole fury is directed against the corpse, warm indeed with the remains of life, but past the sensation of pain. A difference of opinion has existed with respect to the practice of eating the bodies of their enemies actually slain in war; but subsequent inquiry has satisfied me of its being done, especially in the case of distinguished persons, or those who have been accessories to the quarrel. It should be observed that their campaigns (which may be aptly compared to the predatory excursions of our Borderers) often terminate with the loss of not more than half a dozen men on both sides. The skulls of the victims are hung up as trophies in the open buildings in front of their houses, and are occasionally ransomed by their surviving relations for a sum of money.
The Battas consume it as part of a ceremony; as a way to express their disgust for certain crimes through a humiliating punishment; and as a brutal display of revenge and insult toward their unfortunate enemies. The targets of this savage meal are prisoners captured in war, especially if they are badly injured, the bodies of the slain, and those condemned for serious crimes, particularly adultery. Unwounded prisoners (though they are not inclined to show mercy) may be ransomed or sold as slaves if the conflict isn't too intense; and it appears that convicts rarely suffer when their friends can pay the customary equivalent of twenty binchangs or eighty dollars to redeem them. These individuals are judged by the tribe where the offense occurred, but execution cannot take place until their specific raja is informed of the sentence. Once he acknowledges the justice of the impending punishment, he sends a cloth to cover the convict's head, along with a large dish of salt and lemons. The unfortunate victim is then handed over to the injured party (in cases of private wrongs, or to the warriors if they are a prisoner) by whom he is tied to a stake; lances are thrown at him from a distance by this person, his relatives, and friends. When he is mortally wounded, they rush up to him, as if overwhelmed with emotion, cut pieces from his body with their knives, dip them in the dish of salt, lemon juice, and red pepper, briefly roast them over a fire made for this purpose, and consume the bites with a kind of savage enthusiasm. Sometimes (presumably depending on the intensity of their anger and resentment) the entire body is eaten by bystanders; there have even been instances where, in an even more brutal twist, they gnaw the flesh from the corpse with their teeth. How far humanity can sink when neither religion nor philosophy guides their actions! The only thing that slightly mitigates the horror of this barbaric ceremony is that there seems to be no intention of torturing the victims or prolonging their suffering; the full fury is directed at the corpse, still warm with the remnants of life but beyond feeling pain. There has been debate about the practice of consuming the bodies of those actually killed in war; however, further investigation has convinced me that it does happen, especially in the case of notable individuals or those involved in the conflict. It’s worth noting that their campaigns (which can be compared to the raiding expeditions of our own Borderers) often result in the loss of no more than half a dozen men from both sides. The skulls of the victims are displayed as trophies in open structures in front of their homes, and can sometimes be redeemed by their surviving relatives for a sum of money.
DOUBTS OBVIATED.
DOUBTS REMOVED.
I have found that some persons (and among them my friend, the late Mr. Alexander Dalrymple) have entertained doubts of the reality of the fact that human flesh is anywhere eaten by mankind as a national practice, and considered the proofs hitherto adduced as insufficient to establish a point of so much moment in the history of the species. It is objected to me that I never was an eyewitness of a Batta feast of this nature, and that my authority for it is considerably weakened by coming through a second, or perhaps a third hand. I am sensible of the weight of this reasoning, and am not anxious to force any man's belief, much less to deceive him by pretences to the highest degree of certainty, when my relation can only lay claim to the next degree; but I must at the same time observe that, according to my apprehension, the refusing assent to fair, circumstantial evidence, because it clashes with a systematic opinion, is equally injurious to the cause of truth with asserting that as positive which is only doubtful. My conviction of the truth of what I have not personally seen (and we must all be convinced of facts to which neither ourselves nor those with whom we are immediately connected could ever have been witnesses) has arisen from the following circumstances, some of less, and some of greater authority. It is in the first place a matter of general and uncontroverted notoriety throughout the island, and I have conversed with many natives of the Batta country (some of them in my own service), who acknowledged the practice, and became ashamed of it after residing amongst more humanized people. It has been my chance to have had no fewer than three brothers and brothers-in-law, beside several intimate friends (of whom some are now in England), chiefs of our settlements of Natal and Tappanuli, of whose information I availed myself, and all their accounts I have found to agree in every material point. The testimony of Mr. Charles Miller, whose name, as well as that of his father, is advantageously known to the literary world, should alone be sufficient for my purpose. In addition to what he has related in his journal he has told me that at one village where he halted the suspended head of a man, whose body had been eaten a few days before, was extremely offensive; and that in conversation with some people of the Ankola district, speaking of their neighbours and occasional enemies of the Padambola district, they described them as an unprincipled race, saying, "We, indeed, eat men as a punishment for their crimes and injuries to us; but they waylay and seize travellers in order to ber-bantei or cut them up like cattle." It is here obviously the admission and not the scandal that should have weight. When Mr. Giles Holloway was leaving Tappanuli and settling his accounts with the natives he expostulated with a Batta man who had been dilatory in his payment. "I would," says the man, "have been here sooner, but my pangulu (superior officer) was detected in familiarity with my wife. He was condemned, and I stayed to eat share of him; the ceremony took us up three days, and it was only last night that we finished him." Mr. Miller was present at this conversation, and the man spoke with perfect seriousness. A native of the island of Nias, who had stabbed a Batta man in a fit of frenzy at Batang-tara river, near Tappanuli bay, and endeavoured to make his escape, was, upon the alarm being given, seized at six in the morning, and before eleven, without any judicial process, was tied to a stake, cut in pieces with the utmost eagerness while yet alive, and eaten upon the spot, partly broiled, but mostly raw. His head was buried under that of the man whom he had murdered. This happened in December 1780, when Mr. William Smith had charge of the settlement. A raja was fined by Mr. Bradley for having caused a prisoner to be eaten at a place too close to the Company's settlement, and it should have been remarked that these feasts are never suffered to take place withinside their own kampongs. Mr. Alexander Hall made a charge in his public accounts of a sum paid to a raja as an inducement to him to spare a man whom he had seen preparing for a victim: and it is in fact this commendable discouragement of the practice by our government that occasions its being so rare a sight to Europeans, in a country where there are no travellers from curiosity, and where the servants of the Company, having appearances to maintain, cannot by their presence as idle spectators give a sanction to proceedings which it is their duty to discourage, although their influence is not sufficient to prevent them.
I’ve found that some people (including my late friend, Mr. Alexander Dalrymple) have doubts about whether human flesh is eaten by humans as a common practice, and they think the evidence presented so far isn’t strong enough to support such an important point in human history. They argue that I’ve never personally witnessed a Batta feast of this kind, which undermines my authority since it comes from secondary or even tertiary sources. I understand the weight of this reasoning and don’t want to force anyone to believe something, much less mislead them with claims of absolute certainty when my account can only make a more modest claim. However, I must point out that dismissing credible and detailed evidence simply because it contradicts a prevailing opinion is just as damaging to the truth as claiming something is a fact when it’s merely uncertain. My belief in things I haven’t personally seen (and we all must accept facts that neither we nor anyone closely connected to us has witnessed) stems from several circumstances, some less credible and some more so. First, it is widely known across the island, and I’ve talked to many natives from the Batta region (some of whom worked for me) who confirmed the practice but felt ashamed of it after living among more civilized people. I’ve happened to have three brothers and brothers-in-law, as well as several close friends (some now in England), who are chiefs of our settlements in Natal and Tappanuli, and I relied on their information, which all agrees on the main points. The testimony of Mr. Charles Miller, whose name and that of his father are well-known in literary circles, should suffice for my purpose. Besides what he’s stated in his journal, he told me that in one village he visited, the head of a man whose body had been eaten just days earlier was hanging there and smelled terrible. He said that in discussions with people from the Ankola district, they described their neighbors and occasional enemies from the Padambola district as an unprincipled group, saying, "We do eat men for their crimes and wrongs against us, but they ambush and capture travelers to cut them up like cattle." It’s clear that the acknowledgment of this practice, rather than scandalizing it, should be taken seriously. When Mr. Giles Holloway was leaving Tappanuli and settling accounts with the natives, he confronted a Batta man who was late in paying. The man replied, "I would have been here sooner, but my pangulu (superior officer) was caught being too familiar with my wife. He was punished, and I stayed to eat part of him; the ceremony took us three days, and we just finished him last night." Mr. Miller witnessed this conversation, and the man spoke quite seriously. A native from the island of Nias, who stabbed a Batta man in a rage at the Batang-tara river near Tappanuli bay and tried to escape, was captured at 6 a.m. after the alarm was raised, and by 11 a.m., without any judicial process, was tied to a stake, eagerly dismembered while still alive, and eaten on the spot, partially cooked but mostly raw. His head was buried beneath that of the man he’d killed. This incident took place in December 1780 when Mr. William Smith was in charge of the settlement. A raja was fined by Mr. Bradley for causing a prisoner to be eaten too close to the Company’s settlement, and it should be noted that these feasts are never allowed to happen within their own kampongs. Mr. Alexander Hall recorded a payment to a raja as an incentive to spare a man he had seen prepared to be a victim; and it’s actually this admirable discouragement of the practice by our government that makes it so uncommon for Europeans to witness it, in a country where there are no curious travelers, and where Company servants, wishing to uphold appearances, cannot condone these actions by being idle observers, even though their influence isn’t strong enough to completely stop them.
A Batta chief, named raja Niabin, in the year 1775 surprised a neighbouring kampong with which he was at enmity, killed the raja by stealth, carried off the body, and ate it. The injured family complained to Mr. Nairne, the English chief of Natal, and prayed for redress. He sent a message on the subject to Niabin, who returned an insolent and threatening answer. Mr. Nairne, influenced by his feelings rather than his judgment (for these people were quite removed from the Company's control, and our interference in their quarrels was not necessary) marched with a party of fifty or sixty men, of whom twelve were Europeans, to chastise him; but on approaching the village they found it so perfectly enclosed with growing bamboos, within which was a strong paling, that they could not even see the place or an enemy.
A Batta chief named Raja Niabin, in 1775, unexpectedly attacked a neighboring kampong he was feuding with, stealthily killed the raja, took the body, and ate it. The affected family complained to Mr. Nairne, the English chief of Natal, seeking justice. He sent a message to Niabin about the incident, but Niabin replied with an arrogant and threatening response. Mr. Nairne, driven more by his emotions than his reasoning (since these people were well outside the Company’s control and our interference in their disputes wasn't necessary), marched with a group of fifty or sixty men, twelve of whom were Europeans, to punish him. However, as they approached the village, they discovered it was completely surrounded by dense bamboo, behind which was a strong fence, making it impossible to see either the village or any enemies.
DEATH OF MR. NAIRNE.
MR. NAIRNE PASSES AWAY.
As they advanced however to examine the defences a shot from an unseen person struck Mr. Nairne in the breast, and he expired immediately. In him was lost a respectable gentleman of great scientific acquirements, and a valuable servant of the Company. It was with much difficulty that the party was enabled to save the body. A caffree and a Malay who fell in the struggle were afterwards eaten. Thus the experience of later days is found to agree with the uniform testimony of old writers; and although I am aware that each and every of these proofs taken singly may admit of some cavil, yet in the aggregate they will be thought to amount to satisfactory evidence that human flesh is habitually eaten by a certain class of the inhabitants of Sumatra.
As they moved forward to inspect the defenses, a shot from an unseen person hit Mr. Nairne in the chest, and he died instantly. With him was lost a respected gentleman with significant scientific knowledge and a valuable servant of the Company. The group struggled to recover the body. A caffree and a Malay who were caught in the fight were later eaten. Thus, the experiences of later years align with the consistent reports of earlier writers. Although I understand that each piece of evidence could be challenged on its own, taken together they provide compelling proof that certain groups of people in Sumatra regularly consume human flesh.
That this extraordinary nation has preserved the rude genuineness of its character and manners may be attributed to various causes; as the want of the precious metals in its country to excite the rapacity of invaders or avarice of colonists, the vegetable riches of the soil being more advantageously obtained in trade from the unmolested labours of the natives; their total unacquaintance with navigation; the divided nature of their government and independence of the petty chieftains. which are circumstances unfavourable to the propagation of new opinions and customs, as the contrary state of society may account for the complete conversion of the subjects of Menangkabau to the faith of Mahomet; and lastly the ideas entertained of the ferociousness of the people from the practices above described, which may well be supposed to have damped the ardour and restrained the zealous attempts of religious innovators.
That this remarkable nation has maintained the raw authenticity of its character and customs can be attributed to several factors: the lack of precious metals in the country, which would have tempted invaders or greedy colonists; the abundant natural resources of the land that are more easily traded through the unbothered efforts of the local people; their complete unfamiliarity with navigation; the fragmented nature of their governance and the independence of local leaders. These conditions are unfavorable to the spread of new ideas and customs, in contrast to the situation in other societies, which might explain the full conversion of the people of Menangkabau to the faith of Muhammad. Lastly, the perceptions of the people's fierceness, influenced by the practices mentioned above, likely stifled the enthusiasm and limited the zealous efforts of religious reformers.
CHAPTER 21.
KINGDOM OF ACHIN.
ITS CAPITAL.
AIR.
INHABITANTS.
COMMERCE.
MANUFACTURES.
NAVIGATION.
COIN.
GOVERNMENT.
REVENUES.
PUNISHMENTS.
ACHIN KINGDOM.
ITS CAPITAL.
AIR.
POPULATION.
TRADE.
INDUSTRIES.
NAVIGATION.
CURRENCY.
GOVERNMENT.
REVENUES.
PUNISHMENTS.
Achin (properly Acheh) is the only kingdom of Sumatra that ever arrived to such a degree of political consequence in the eyes of the western people as to occasion its transactions becoming the subject of general history. But its present condition is widely different from what it was when by its power the Portuguese were prevented from gaining a footing in the island, and its princes received embassies from all the great potentates of Europe.
Achin (properly Acheh) is the only kingdom in Sumatra that ever gained significant political importance in the eyes of Western society, leading to its activities being included in mainstream history. However, its current situation is very different from what it was when its strength kept the Portuguese from establishing a presence on the island, and its rulers were receiving envoys from all the major powers in Europe.
SITUATION.
SITUATION.
Its situation occupies the north-western extreme of the island, bordering generally on the country of the Battas; but, strictly speaking, its extent, inland, reaches no farther than about fifty miles to the southeast. Along the north and eastern coast its territory was considered in 1778 as reaching to a place called Karti, not far distant from Batubara river, including Pidir, Samerlonga, and Pase. On the western coast, where it formerly boasted a dominion as far down as Indrapura, and possessed complete jurisdiction at Tiku, it now extends no farther than Barus; and even there, or at the intermediate ports, although the Achinese influence is predominant and its merchants enjoy the trade, the royal power seems to be little more than nominal. The interior inhabitants from Achin to Singkel are distinguished into those of Allas, Riah, and Karrau. The Achinese manners prevail among the two former; but the last resemble the Battas, from whom they are divided by a range of mountains.
Its location is at the northwestern tip of the island, generally bordering the territory of the Battas. However, inland, it only extends about fifty miles to the southeast. Along the northern and eastern coast, its territory was considered in 1778 to stretch to a place called Karti, which is not far from the Batubara River, including Pidir, Samerlonga, and Pase. On the western coast, it used to claim control all the way down to Indrapura and had full authority at Tiku, but now it only stretches as far as Barus. Even there, or at the nearby ports, while Achinese influence is strong and its merchants benefit from trade, the royal authority appears to be mostly just a title. The communities in the interior from Achin to Singkel are categorized into those of Allas, Riah, and Karrau. The Achinese customs dominate among the first two, but the last group is similar to the Battas, separated from them by a range of mountains.
CAPITAL.
Capital.
The capital stands on a river which empties itself by several channels near the north-west point of the island, or Achin Head, about a league from the sea, where the shipping lies in a road rendered secure by the shelter of several islands. The depth of water on the bar being no more than four feet at low-water spring-tides, only the vessels of the country can venture to pass it; and in the dry monsoon not even those of the larger class. The town is situated on a plain, in a wide valley formed like an amphitheatre by lofty ranges of hills. It is said to be extremely populous, containing eight thousand houses, built of bamboos and rough timbers, standing distinct from each other and mostly raised on piles some feet above the ground in order to guard against the effects of inundation. The appearance of the place and nature of the buildings differ little from those of the generality of Malayan bazaars, excepting that its superior wealth has occasioned the erection of a greater number of public edifices, chiefly mosques, but without the smallest pretension to magnificence. The country above the town is highly cultivated, and abounds with small villages and groups of three or four houses, with white mosques interspersed.*
The capital is located on a river that flows out through several channels near the north-west tip of the island, known as Achin Head, about a mile from the sea, where ships anchor in a protected area made safe by nearby islands. The water depth at the bar is only four feet during low spring tides, which means only local vessels can get through; even those larger ships can't make it during the dry monsoon. The town sits on a flat plain in a broad valley shaped like an amphitheater by tall hills. It's said to be very densely populated, with around eight thousand houses made of bamboo and rough timber, spaced apart and mostly elevated on stilts a few feet off the ground to protect against flooding. The town's look and the style of its buildings are quite similar to other Malayan markets, except that its greater wealth has led to a larger number of public structures, mainly mosques, though none are particularly grand. The area above the town is heavily farmed and filled with small villages and clusters of three or four houses, along with white mosques scattered throughout.*
(*Footnote. The following description of the appearance of Achin, by a Jesuit missionary who touched there in his way to China in 1698, is so picturesque, and at the same time so just, that I shall make no apology for introducing it. Imaginez vous une foret de cocotiers, de bambous, d'ananas, de bagnaniers, au milieu de laquelle passe une assez belle riviere toute couverte de bateaux; mettez dans cette foret une nombre incroyable de maisons faites avec de cannes, de roseaux, des ecorces, et disposez les de telle maniere qu'elles forment tantot des rues, et tantot des quartiers separes: coupez ces divers quartiers de prairies et de bois: repandez par tout dans cette grande foret, autant d'hommes qu'on en voit dans nos villes, lorsqu'elles sont bien peuplees; vous vous formerez une idee assez juste d'Achen; et vous conviendrez qu'une ville de ce gout nouveau peut faire plaisir a des etrangers qui passent. Elle me parut d'abord comme ces paysages sortis de l'imagination d'un peintre ou d'un poete, qui rassemble sous un coup d'oeil, tout ce que la campagne a de plus riant. Tout est neglige et naturel, champetre et meme un peu sauvage. Quand on est dans la rade, on n'appercoit aucun vestige, ni aucune apparence de ville, parceque des grands arbres qui bordent le rivage en cachent toutes les maisons; mais outre le paysage qui est tres beau, rien n'est plus agreable que de voir de matin un infinite de petits bateaux de pecheurs qui sortent de la riviere avec le jour, et qui ne rentrent que le soir, lorsque le soleil se couche. Vous diriez un essaim d'abeilles qui reviennent a la cruche chargees du fruit de leur travail. Lettres Edifiantes Tome 1. For a more modern account of this city I beg leave to refer the reader to Captain Thomas Forrest's Voyage to the Mergui Archipelago pages 38 to 60, where he will find a lively and natural description of everything worthy of observation in the place, with a detail of the circumstances attending his own reception at the court, illustrated with an excellent plate.)
(*Footnote. The following description of the appearance of Achin, by a Jesuit missionary who stopped there on his way to China in 1698, is so vivid and accurate that I’ll introduce it without any apologies. Imagine a forest of coconut trees, bamboo, pineapples, and banyan trees, with a beautiful river running through it, filled with boats. Picture this forest dotted with an incredible number of houses made from reeds, bamboo, and tree bark, arranged in such a way that they create streets and separate neighborhoods. Cut through these neighborhoods with meadows and woods. Scatter through this large forest as many people as you would see in our crowded cities; this will give you a fair idea of Achin, and you’ll agree that a city with such a unique charm can delight passing strangers. At first, it seemed to me like one of those landscapes imagined by a painter or poet, capturing all the beauty of the countryside in a single glance. Everything feels relaxed and natural, rural, and even a bit wild. When you're in the harbor, you can’t see any signs or semblance of a city because the tall trees lining the shore hide all the houses; but besides the beautiful scenery, nothing is more enjoyable than watching countless small fishing boats leave the river at dawn, returning only at sunset. You'd think of a swarm of bees coming back to their hive, loaded with the fruits of their labor. Lettres Edifiantes Tome 1. For a more modern description of this city, I invite the reader to check Captain Thomas Forrest's Voyage to the Mergui Archipelago, pages 38 to 60, where he provides a lively and natural account of everything worth noticing in the area, along with details of his own reception at the court, illustrated with an excellent plate.)
The king's palace, if it deserves the appellation, is a very rude and uncouth piece of architecture, designed to resist the attacks of internal enemies, and surrounded for that purpose with a moat and strong walls, but without any regular plan, or view to the modern system of military defence.*
The king's palace, if it can even be called that, is a rough and clumsy structure built to withstand attacks from internal foes. It's surrounded for that reason by a moat and strong walls, but there's no organized layout or consideration for modern military defense.
(*Footnote. Near the gate of the palace are several pieces of brass ordnance of an extraordinary size, of which some are Portuguese; but two in particular, of English make, attract curiosity. They were sent by king James the first to the reigning monarch of Acheen, and have still the founder's name and the date legible upon them. The diameter of the bore of one is eighteen inches; of the other twenty-two or twenty-four. Their strength however does not appear to be in proportion to the calibre, nor do they seem in other respects to be of adequate dimensions. James, who abhorred bloodshed himself, was resolved that his present should not be the instrument of it to others.)
(*Footnote. Near the entrance of the palace, there are several unusually large brass cannons, some of which are Portuguese. However, two cannons in particular, made in England, catch people's attention. They were sent by King James the First to the current ruler of Acheen and still have the founder's name and date visible on them. The bore diameter of one is eighteen inches, while the other measures twenty-two or twenty-four inches. Their strength, however, does not seem to match their size, and they don't appear to be appropriately sized in other respects either. James, who despised violence, was determined that his gift would not cause harm to others.)
AIR.
Air.
The air is esteemed comparatively healthy, the country being more free from woods and stagnant water than most other parts; and fevers and dysenteries, to which these local circumstances are supposed to give occasion, are there said to be uncommon. But this must not be too readily credited; for the degree of insalubrity attending situations in that climate is known so frequently to alter, from inscrutable causes, that a person who has resided only two or three years on a spot cannot pretend to form a judgment; and the natives, from a natural partiality, are always ready to extol the healthiness, as well as other imputed advantages, of their native places.
The air is considered fairly healthy, as the area has fewer woods and stagnant water than many other places; consequently, fevers and dysentery, which these local conditions are thought to cause, are said to be rare. However, this shouldn't be taken at face value; the level of unhealthiness in that climate can change for mysterious reasons, so someone who has lived in one spot for only two or three years can't really claim to know. Also, the locals, due to their natural bias, are always quick to praise the healthiness and other supposed benefits of their hometowns.
INHABITANTS.
RESIDENTS.
The Achinese differ much in their persons from the other Sumatrans, being in general taller, stouter, and of darker complexions. They are by no means in their present state a genuine people, but thought, with great appearance of reason, to be a mixture of Battas and Malays, with chulias, as they term the natives of the west of India, by whom their ports have in all ages been frequented. In their dispositions they are more active and industrious than some of their neighbours; they possess more sagacity, have more knowledge of other countries, and as merchants they deal upon a more extensive and liberal footing. But this last observation applies rather to the traders at a distance from the capital and to their transactions than to the conduct observed at Achin, which, according to the temper and example of the reigning monarch, is often narrow, extortionary, and oppressive. Their language is one of the general dialects of the eastern islands, and its affinity to the Batta may be observed in the comparative table; but they make use of the Malayan character. In religion they are Mahometans, and having many priests, and much intercourse with foreigners of the same faith, its forms and ceremonies are observed with some strictness.
The Achinese are quite different in appearance from other Sumatran people; they are generally taller, sturdier, and have darker skin. Currently, they are not a pure ethnic group but are believed, with reasonable evidence, to be a mix of Battas and Malays, along with Chulias, which is what they call the natives of western India, whose ports have been frequented throughout history. In terms of personality, they are more active and hardworking than some of their neighbors; they have greater insight, more knowledge of other countries, and their merchants operate on a broader and more generous scale. However, this last point mostly pertains to traders away from the capital and their dealings rather than to the behavior seen in Achin, which, influenced by the temperament and example of the ruling monarch, can often be narrow, greedy, and oppressive. Their language is one of the common dialects of the eastern islands, and you can see its similarity to Batta in the comparative table; they use the Malayan script. In terms of religion, they are Muslims and have many priests and significant interaction with foreigners of the same faith, leading them to observe its rituals and ceremonies relatively strictly.
COMMERCE.
Business.
Although no longer the great mart of eastern commodities, Achin still carries on a considerable trade, as well with private European merchants as with the natives of that part of the coast of India called Telinga, which is properly the country lying between the Kistna and Godavery rivers; but the name, corrupted by the Malays to Kling, is commonly applied to the whole coast of Coromandel. These supply it with salt, cotton piece-goods, principally those called long-cloth white and blue, and chintz with dark grounds; receiving in return gold-dust, raw silk of inferior quality, betel-nut, patch-leaf (Melissa lotoria, called dilam by the Malays) pepper, sulphur, camphor, and benzoin. The two latter are carried thither from the river of Sungkel, where they are procured from the country of the Battas, and the pepper from Pidir; but this article is also exported from Susu to the amount of about two thousand tons annually, where it sells at the rate of twelve dollars the pikul, chiefly for gold and silver. The quality is not esteemed good, being gathered before it is sufficiently ripe, and it is not cleaned like the Company's pepper. The Americans have been of late years the chief purchasers. The gold collected at Achin comes partly from the mountains in the neighbourhood but chiefly from Nalabu and Susu. Its commerce, independently of that of the out-ports, gives employment to from eight to ten Kling vessels, of a hundred and fifty or two hundred tons burden, which arrive annually from Porto Novo and Coringa about the month of August, and sail again in February and March. These are not permitted to touch at any places under the king's jurisdiction, on the eastern or western coast, as it would be injurious to the profits of his trade, as well as to his revenue from the customs and from the presents exacted on the arrival of vessels, and for which his officers at those distant places would not account with him. It must be understood that the king of Achin, as is usual with the princes of this part of the world, is the chief merchant of his capital, and endeavours to be, to the utmost of his power, the monopolizer of its trade; but this he cannot at all times effect, and the attempt has been the cause of frequent rebellions. There is likewise a ship or two from Surat every year, the property of native merchants there. The country is supplied with opium, taffetas, and muslins from Bengal, and also with iron and many other articles of merchandise, by the European traders.
Although it’s no longer the major hub for eastern goods, Achin still has a significant trade, both with private European merchants and with the local people of the area in India known as Telinga, which actually refers to the region between the Kistna and Godavery rivers. However, the name has been altered by the Malays to Kling and is usually used to describe the entire Coromandel coast. These traders provide Achin with salt, cotton fabrics, mainly those called long-cloth in white and blue, as well as chintz with dark backgrounds. In exchange, they receive gold dust, lower-quality raw silk, betel nut, patch-leaf (Melissa lotoria, known as dilam by the Malays), pepper, sulfur, camphor, and benzoin. The latter two are brought in from the Sungkel river, sourced from the Battas region, while the pepper comes from Pidir. Additionally, about two thousand tons of pepper are exported from Susu each year, selling for around twelve dollars per pikul, mainly in exchange for gold and silver. The quality isn’t regarded as good since it’s harvested before it’s fully ripe, and it isn’t cleaned like the Company’s pepper. In recent years, Americans have been the main buyers. The gold collected at Achin comes partly from nearby mountains but mostly from Nalabu and Susu. The trade, excluding that of the out-ports, employs eight to ten Kling vessels, each weighing between one hundred fifty to two hundred tons, arriving annually from Porto Novo and Coringa around August and departing again in February and March. These vessels are not allowed to dock at any locations under the king's authority on either coast, as it would hurt his trade profits and his revenue from customs and the gifts expected upon the arrival of ships, which his officials at those distant areas would not properly account for. It should be noted that the king of Achin, like many rulers in this part of the world, acts as the main merchant in his capital and tries, as much as possible, to monopolize its trade; however, he can’t always succeed, and these efforts have led to frequent rebellions. There is also a ship or two from Surat each year, owned by local merchants there. The area gets supplied with opium, taffetas, and muslins from Bengal, along with iron and many other goods by European traders.
PRODUCTIONS OF THE SOIL.
Soil Productions.
The soil being light and fertile produces abundance of rice, esculent vegetables, much cotton, and the finest tropical fruits. Both the mango and mangustin are said to be of excellent quality. Cattle and other articles of provision are in plenty, and reasonable in price. The plough is there drawn by oxen, and the general style of cultivation shows a skill in agriculture superior to what is seen in other parts of the island.
The light, fertile soil produces a lot of rice, edible vegetables, plenty of cotton, and the best tropical fruits. Both mangoes and mangosteens are said to be top-notch. There are plenty of cattle and other food supplies, all reasonably priced. Oxen pull the plow, and the farming techniques show a level of agricultural skill that's better than what you find in other areas of the island.
MANUFACTURES.
Manufacturers.
Those few arts and manufactures which are known in other parts of the island prevail likewise here, and some of them are carried to more perfection. A considerable fabric of a thick species of cotton cloth, and of striped or chequered stuff for the short drawers worn both by Malays and Achinese, is established here, and supplies an extensive foreign demand, particularly in the Rau country, where they form part of the dress of the women as well as men. They weave also very handsome and rich silk pieces, of a particular form, for that part of the bodydress which the Malays call kain-sarong; but this manufacture had much decreased at the period when my inquiries were made, owing, as the people said, to an unavoidable failure in the breed of silkworms, but more probably to the decay of industry amongst themselves, proceeding from their continual civil disturbances.
The few arts and crafts known in other parts of the island are also present here, and some are even more developed. There is a significant production of a thick type of cotton fabric, as well as striped or checked material for the short pants worn by both Malays and Achinese. This fabric is in high demand abroad, especially in the Rau region, where it is part of the clothing for both women and men. They also weave very beautiful and luxurious silk pieces, designed for the garment that Malays call kain-sarong. However, this craft had significantly declined when I made my inquiries, which the locals attributed to an unavoidable decline in the silk worm population, but it's more likely due to a decline in their own industry caused by ongoing civil disturbances.
NAVIGATION.
NAVIGATION.
They are expert and bold navigators, and employ a variety of vessels according to the voyages they have occasion to undertake, and the purposes either of commerce or war for which they design them. The river is covered with a number of small fishing vessels which go to sea with the morning breeze and return in the afternoon with the sea-wind, full laden. These are named koleh, are raised about two streaks on a sampan bottom, have one mast and an upright or square sail, but long in proportion to its breadth, which rolls up. These sometimes make their appearance so far to the southward as Bencoolen. The banting is a trading vessel, of a larger class, having two masts, with upright sails like the former, rising at the stem and stern, and somewhat resembling a Chinese junk, excepting in its size. They have also very long narrow boats, with two masts, and double or single outriggers, called balabang and jalor. These are chiefly used as war-boats, mount guns of the size of swivels, and carry a number of men. For representations of various kinds of vessels employed by these eastern people the reader is referred to the plates in Captain Forrest's two voyages.
They are skilled and daring navigators, using different types of boats based on their journeys for trade or warfare. The river is filled with small fishing boats that head out to sea with the morning breeze and return in the afternoon with the sea-wind, fully loaded. These boats, called koleh, have a slightly raised design like a sampan, one mast, and a long upright or square sail that rolls up. Sometimes, they can be spotted as far south as Bencoolen. The banting is a larger trading boat with two masts and upright sails that rise at both the front and back, resembling a Chinese junk, but on a bigger scale. They also have very long, narrow boats with two masts and either double or single outriggers, known as balabang and jalor. These are mainly used as war boats, equipped with swivel-sized guns and carrying several crew members. For images of different types of boats used by these Eastern people, readers can check out the plates in Captain Forrest's two voyages.
COIN.
Coin.
They have a small thin adulterated gold coin, rudely stamped with Arabic characters, called mas or massiah. Its current value is said to be about fifteen, and its intrinsic about twelve pence, or five Madras fanams. Eighty of these are equal to the bangkal, of which twenty make a katti. The tail, here an imaginary valuation, is one-fifth of the bangkal, and equal to sixteen mas. The small leaden money, called pitis or cash, is likewise struck here for the service of the bazaar; but neither these nor the former afford any convenience to the foreign trader. Dollars and rupees pass current, and most other species of coin are taken at a valuation; but payments are commonly made in gold dust, and for that purpose everyone is provided with small scales or steelyards, called daching. They carry their gold about them, wrapped in small pieces of bladder (or rather the integument of the heart), and often make purchases to so small an amount as to employ grains of padi or other seeds for weights.
They have a small, thin, adulterated gold coin, roughly stamped with Arabic characters, called mas or massiah. Its current value is said to be about fifteen, and its intrinsic value is around twelve pence, or five Madras fanams. Eighty of these are equal to the bangkal, of which twenty make a katti. The tail, which is an imaginary valuation here, is one-fifth of the bangkal and equals sixteen mas. The small leaden money, called pitis or cash, is also minted here for use in the bazaar; however, neither this nor the previous coin is helpful for foreign traders. Dollars and rupees are accepted, and most other types of coin are valued, but payments are usually made in gold dust. For that purpose, everyone carries small scales or steelyards, called daching. They carry their gold wrapped in small pieces of bladder (or rather the covering of the heart) and often make purchases that are so small they use grains of padi or other seeds as weights.
GOVERNMENT.
GOVERNMENT.
The monarchy is hereditary, and is more or less absolute in proportion to the talents of the reigning prince; no other bounds being set to his authority than the counterbalance or check it meets with from the power of the great vassals, and disaffection of the commonalty. But this resistance is exerted in so irregular a manner, and with so little view to the public good, that nothing like liberty results from it. They experience only an alternative of tyranny and anarchy, or the former under different shapes. Many of the other Sumatran people are in the possession of a very high degree of freedom, founded upon a rigid attachment to their old established customs and laws. The king usually maintains a guard of a hundred sepoys (from the Coromandel coast) about his palace, but pays them indifferently.
The monarchy is inherited and is mostly absolute, depending on the capabilities of the ruling prince; the only limits to his power come from the counterbalance of influential vassals and the dissatisfaction of the common people. However, this resistance is expressed in such an irregular way and with little regard for the public good that it doesn't lead to any real freedom. Instead, people face a cycle of tyranny and chaos, or variations of the former. Many other Sumatran communities enjoy a high degree of freedom, rooted in a strict adherence to their traditional customs and laws. The king typically has a guard of a hundred sepoys (from the Coromandel coast) stationed around his palace, but he pays them inconsistently.
The grand council of the nation consists of the king or Sultan, the maharaja, laksamana, paduka tuan, and bandhara. Inferior in rank to these are the ulubalangs or military champions, among whom are several gradations of rank, who sit on the king's right hand, and other officers named kajuran, who sit on his left. At his feet sits a woman, to whom he makes known his pleasure: by her it is communicated to a eunuch, who sits next to her, and by him to an officer, named Kajuran Gondang, who then proclaims it aloud to the assembly. There are also present two other officers, one of whom has the government of the Bazaar or market, and the other the superintending and carrying into execution the punishment of criminals. All matters relative to commerce and the customs of the port come under the jurisdiction of the Shabandar, who performs the ceremony of giving the chap or licence for trade; which is done by lifting a golden-hafted kris over the head of the merchant who arrives, and without which he dares not to land his goods. Presents, the value of which are become pretty regularly ascertained, are then sent to the king and his officers. If the stranger be in the style of an ambassador the royal elephants are sent down to carry him and his letters to the monarch's presence; these being first delivered into the hands of a eunuch, who places them in a silver dish, covered with rich silk, on the back of the largest elephant, which is provided with a machine (houdar) for that purpose. Within about a hundred yards of an open hall where the king sits the cavalcade stops, and the ambassador dismounts and makes his obeisance by bending his body and lifting his joined hands to his head. When he enters the palace, if a European, he is obliged to take off his shoes, and having made a second obeisance is seated upon a carpet on the floor, where betel is brought to him. The throne was some years ago of ivory and tortoiseshell; and when the place was governed by queens a curtain of gauze was hung before it, which did not obstruct the audience, but prevented any perfect view. The stranger, after some general discourse, is then conducted to a separate building, where he is entertained with the delicacies of the country by the officers of state, and in the evening returns in the manner he came, surrounded by a prodigious number of lights. On high days (ari raya) the king goes in great state, mounted on an elephant richly caparisoned, to the great mosque, preceded by his ulubalangs, who are armed nearly in the European manner.
The grand council of the nation includes the king or Sultan, the maharaja, laksamana, paduka tuan, and bandhara. Below them in rank are the ulubalangs or military champions, who have various levels of rank and sit on the king's right side, along with other officers called kajuran, who sit on his left. At his feet, there’s a woman who communicates his wishes; she relays them to a eunuch sitting beside her, who then passes the message to an officer named Kajuran Gondang, who announces it to the assembly. Also present are two other officers: one oversees the Bazaar or market, and the other is responsible for administering the punishment of criminals. Issues related to commerce and port customs fall under the jurisdiction of the Shabandar, who performs the ceremony for granting trade licenses, which involves lifting a kris with a golden handle over the head of an arriving merchant; without this, the merchant cannot unload his goods. Gifts, with their values usually agreed upon, are then sent to the king and his officers. If the visitor is an ambassador, royal elephants are sent to carry him and his letters to the king; these letters are first given to a eunuch, who places them on a silver dish covered with fine silk on the back of the largest elephant, equipped for that purpose. About a hundred yards from the open hall where the king sits, the procession stops, and the ambassador dismounts and bows, raising his joined hands to his head. Upon entering the palace, if he is European, he must remove his shoes and make a second bow before taking a seat on a carpet on the floor, where betel is offered to him. The throne was made of ivory and tortoiseshell years ago; when the place was governed by queens, a gauze curtain hung in front that did not obstruct the audience but blocked a clear view. After some general conversation, the visitor is guided to a separate building, where state officers entertain him with local delicacies, and in the evening, he departs in the same manner he arrived, surrounded by a large number of lights. On special occasions (ari raya), the king goes in style, riding a richly adorned elephant to the grand mosque, preceded by his ulubalangs, who are armed in a manner similar to European soldiers.
DIVISION OF THE COUNTRY.
DIVISION OF THE NATION.
The whole kingdom is divided into certain small districts or communities, called mukim, which seem to be equivalent to our parishes, and their number is reckoned at one hundred and ninety, of which seventythree are situated in the valley of Achin. Of these last are formed three larger districts, named Duo-puluh duo (twenty-two), Duo-puluh-limo (twenty-five), and Duo-puluh-anam (twenty-six), from the number of mukims they respectively contain; each of which is governed by a panglima or provincial governor, with an imam and four pangichis for the service of each mosque. The country is extremely populous; but the computations with which I have been furnished exceed so far all probability that I do not venture to insert them.
The entire kingdom is divided into smaller districts or communities called mukim, which are similar to our parishes. There are one hundred and ninety of these communities, with seventy-three located in the Achin valley. From these, three larger districts are formed, named Duo-puluh duo (twenty-two), Duo-puluh-limo (twenty-five), and Duo-puluh-anam (twenty-six), based on the number of mukims they contain. Each of these districts is governed by a panglima or provincial governor, along with an imam and four pangichis serving each mosque. The population is extremely high, but the estimates I've received are so far-fetched that I don't feel comfortable including them.
REVENUES.
Earnings.
The regular tax or imposition to which the country is subject, for the use of the crown, is one koyan (about eight hundred gallons) of padi from each mukim, with a bag of rice, and about the value of one Spanish dollar and a half in money, from each proprietor of a house, to be delivered at the king's store in person, in return for which homage he never fails to receive nearly an equivalent in tobacco or some other article. On certain great festivals presents of cattle are made to the king by the orang-kayas or nobles; but it is from the import and export customs on merchandise that the revenue of the crown properly arises, and which of course fluctuates considerably. What Europeans pay is between five and six per cent, but the Kling merchants are understood to be charged with much higher duties; in the whole not less than fifteen, of which twelve in the hundred are taken out of the bales in the first instance, a disparity they are enabled to support by the provident and frugal manner in which they purchase their investments, the cheap rate at which they navigate their vessels, and the manner of retailing their goods to the natives. These sources of wealth are independent of the profit derived from the trade, which is managed for his master by a person who is styled the king's merchant. The revenues of the nobles accrue from taxes which they lay, as feudal lords, upon the produce of the land cultivated by their vassals. At Pidir a measure of rice is paid for every measure of padi sown, which amounts to about a twentieth part. At Nalabu there is a capitation tax of a dollar a year; and at various places on the inland roads there are tolls collected upon provisions and goods which pass to the capital.
The regular tax or fee that the country has to pay to the crown consists of one koyan (about eight hundred gallons) of padi from each mukim, along with a bag of rice and about one and a half Spanish dollars in cash from each homeowner, which must be delivered personally to the king's store. In return for this tribute, the king typically gives back almost the same value in tobacco or some other item. During major festivals, the nobles or orang-kayas give gifts of cattle to the king; however, most of the crown's revenue comes from customs on imports and exports, which can vary significantly. Europeans pay around five to six percent, but Kling merchants are believed to face much higher duties; overall, they pay no less than fifteen percent, with twelve percent taken upfront from the bales. They manage to handle this discrepancy by buying their goods efficiently, sailing their ships at low costs, and retailing their products to the locals in a profitable way. These income sources are separate from the profits from trade, which is overseen by someone known as the king's merchant. Nobles earn their revenue from taxes they impose as feudal lords on the agricultural produce of their vassals. In Pidir, a measure of rice is paid for every measure of padi sown, which comes to about one-twentieth. In Nalabu, there is a head tax of a dollar per year, and there are various tolls collected on provisions and goods traveling to the capital along the inland roads.
ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE.
Justice Administration.
The kings of Achin possess a grant of territory along the sea-coast as far down as Bencoolen from the sultan of Menangkabau, whose superiority has always been admitted by them, and will be perhaps so long as he claims no authority over them, and exacts neither tribute nor homage.
The kings of Achin have a grant of territory along the coastline down to Bencoolen from the sultan of Menangkabau, whose dominance they have always recognized, and likely will continue to do so as long as he doesn't assert any authority over them or demand tribute or homage.
PUNISHMENTS.
Consequences.
Achin has ever been remarkable for the severity with which crimes are punished by their laws; the same rigour still subsists, and there is no commutation admitted, as is regularly established in the southern countries. There is great reason however to conclude that the poor alone experience the rod of justice; the nobles being secure from retribution in the number of their dependants. Petty theft is punished by suspending the criminal from a tree, with a gun or heavy weight tied to his feet; or by cutting off a finger, a hand, or leg, according to the nature of the theft. Many of these mutilated and wretched objects are daily to be seen in the streets. Robbery, on the highway and housebreaking, are punished by drowning, and afterwards exposing the body on a stake for a few days. If the robbery is committed upon an imam or priest the sacrilege is expiated by burning the criminal alive. A man who is convicted of adultery or rape is seldom attempted to be screened by his friends, but is delivered up to the friends and relations of the injured husband or father. These take him to some large plain and, forming themselves in a circle, place him in the middle. A large weapon, called a gadubong, is then delivered to him by one of his family, and if he can force his way through those who surround him and make his escape he is not liable to further prosecution; but it commonly happens that he is instantly cut to pieces. In this case his relations bury him as they would a dead buffalo, refusing to admit the corpse into their house, or to perform any funeral rites. Would it not be reasonable to conclude that the Achinese, with so much discouragement to vice both from law and prejudice, must prove a moral and virtuous people? yet all travellers agree in representing them as one of the most dishonest and flagitious nations of the East, which the history of their government will tend to corroborate.
Achin has always been notable for the harshness with which crimes are punished by its laws; that same strictness continues, and there’s no leniency allowed, unlike what is usually found in southern countries. However, there’s strong evidence to suggest that only the poor feel the full force of justice, while the nobles remain safe from repercussions because of their many dependents. Minor theft is punished by hanging the offender from a tree, with a heavy weight attached to their feet, or by cutting off a finger, hand, or leg, depending on the severity of the theft. Many of these mutilated individuals can be seen in the streets daily. Highway robbery and burglary are punished by drowning, followed by displaying the body on a stake for several days. If the robbery targets an imam or priest, the punishment for the sacrilege is burning the criminal alive. A man found guilty of adultery or rape is rarely protected by his friends; instead, he is handed over to the friends and family of the injured husband or father. They take him to a large open area and form a circle around him. One of his family members hands him a large weapon called a gadubong, and if he manages to fight his way through the surrounding group and escape, he won't face further prosecution. However, most of the time, he is immediately cut to pieces. In this situation, his family buries him like a dead buffalo, refusing to allow the body into their home or to conduct any funeral rites. Would it not seem reasonable to conclude that the Achinese, facing such strong discouragement against vice from both law and social norms, must be a moral and virtuous people? Yet all travelers agree that they are among the most dishonest and corrupt nations in the East, which is supported by the history of their governance.
CHAPTER 22.
HISTORY OF THE KINGDOM OF ACHIN, FROM THE PERIOD OF ITS BEING VISITED BY EUROPEANS.
HISTORY OF THE KINGDOM OF ACHIN, FROM THE TIME EUROPEANS STARTED VISITING.
PROCEEDINGS OF THE PORTUGUESE.
PORTUGUESE PROCEEDINGS.
The Portuguese, under the conduct of Vasco de Gama, doubled the Cape of Good Hope in the year 1497, and arrived on the coast of Malabar in the following year. These people, whom the spirit of glory, commerce, and plunder led to the most magnanimous undertakings, were not so entirely engaged by their conquests on the continent of India as to prevent them from extending their views to the discovery of regions yet more distant. They learned from the merchants of Guzerat some account of the riches and importance of Malacca, a great trading city in the farther peninsula of India, supposed by them the Golden Chersonnese of Ptolemy. Intelligence of this was transmitted to their enterprising sovereign Emanuel, who became impressed with a strong desire to avail himself of the flattering advantages which this celebrated country held out to his ambition.
The Portuguese, led by Vasco de Gama, rounded the Cape of Good Hope in 1497 and arrived on the coast of Malabar the following year. These individuals, driven by the pursuit of glory, trade, and treasure, were not solely focused on their conquests in India; they also aimed to discover even more distant lands. They learned from merchants in Guzerat about the wealth and significance of Malacca, a major trading city in the further part of India, which they believed to be the Golden Chersonese mentioned by Ptolemy. This information was passed on to their ambitious ruler Emanuel, who felt a strong desire to take advantage of the promising opportunities that this famous region offered.
1508.
1508.
He equipped a fleet of four ships under the command of Diogo Lopez de Sequeira, which sailed from Lisbon on the eighth day of April 1508 with orders to explore and establish connexions in those eastern parts of Asia.
He outfitted a fleet of four ships led by Diogo Lopez de Sequeira, which set sail from Lisbon on April 8, 1508, with instructions to explore and establish connections in the eastern regions of Asia.
1509.
1509.
After touching at Madagascar Sequeira proceeded to Cochin, where a ship was added to his fleet, and, departing from thence on the eighth of September 1509, he made sail towards Malacca; but having doubled the extreme promontory of Sumatra (then supposed to be the Taprobane of the ancients) he anchored at Pidir, a principal port of that island, in which he found vessels from Pegu, Bengal, and other countries. The king of the place, who, like other Mahometan princes, was styled sultan, sent off a deputation to him, accompanied with refreshments, excusing himself, on account of illness, from paying his compliments in person, but assuring him at the same time that he should derive much pleasure from the friendship and alliance of the Portuguese, whose fame had reached his ears. Sequeira answered this message in such terms that, by consent of the sultan, a monument of their amity was erected on the shore; or, more properly, as the token of discovery and possession usually employed by the European nations. He was received in the same manner at a place called Pase, lying about twenty leagues farther to the eastward on the same coast, and there also erected a monument or cross. Having procured at each of these ports as much pepper as could be collected in a short time he hastened to Malacca, where the news of his appearance in these seas had anticipated his arrival. Here he was near falling a sacrifice to the insidious policy of Mahmud, the reigning king, to whom the Portuguese had been represented by the Arabian and Persian merchants (and not very unjustly) as lawless pirates, who, under the pretext of establishing commercial treaties, had, at first by encroachments, and afterwards with insolent rapacity, ruined and enslaved the princes who were weak enough to put a confidence in them, or to allow them a footing in their dominions. He escaped the snares that were laid for him but lost many of his people, and, leaving others in captivity, he returned to Europe, and gave an account of his proceedings to the king.
After stopping in Madagascar, Sequeira went to Cochin, where he added a ship to his fleet. He set sail on September 8, 1509, heading toward Malacca. After rounding the southern tip of Sumatra (which was then thought to be the ancient Taprobane), he anchored at Pidir, a main port on the island, where he found ships from Pegu, Bengal, and other places. The local king, who was known as sultan like other Muslim rulers, sent a delegation to greet him with refreshments. He apologized for not coming in person due to illness but expressed that he would be delighted to befriend the Portuguese, whose reputation had reached him. Sequeira responded in such a way that, with the sultan's agreement, a monument of their friendship was set up on the shore, or rather, as a sign of discovery and possession typically used by European nations. He was welcomed similarly at a place called Pase, located about twenty leagues further east along the same coast, where he also erected a monument or cross. After gathering as much pepper as he could at each of these ports in a short time, he hurried to Malacca, where news of his arrival had already spread. Here, he nearly fell victim to the deceit of Mahmud, the reigning king, who had been misled by Arabian and Persian merchants (not without reason) into seeing the Portuguese as lawless pirates. They had been portrayed as people who, under the guise of trade treaties, initially encroached and, later with brazen greed, ruined and enslaved the princes naive enough to trust them or allow them a presence in their lands. He managed to avoid the traps set for him but lost many of his crew, and while leaving some behind in captivity, he returned to Europe and reported his activities to the king.
1510.
1510.
A fleet was sent out in the year 1510 under Diogo Mendez to establish the Portuguese interests at Malacca; but Affonso d'Alboquerque, the governor of their affairs in India, thought proper to detain this squadron on the coast of Malabar until he could proceed thither himself with a greater force.
A fleet was sent out in the year 1510 under Diogo Mendez to establish Portuguese interests in Malacca; however, Affonso d'Alboquerque, the governor of their affairs in India, decided to hold this squadron on the coast of Malabar until he could go there himself with a larger force.
1511.
1511.
And accordingly on the second of May 1511 he set sail from Cochin with nineteen ships and fourteen hundred men. He touched at Pidir, where he found some of his countrymen who had made their escape from Malacca in a boat and sought protection on the Sumatran shore. They represented that, arriving off Pase, they had been ill-treated by the natives, who killed one of their party and obliged them to fly to Pidir, where they met with hospitality and kindness from the prince, who seemed desirous to conciliate the regard of their nation. Alboquerque expressed himself sensible of this instance of friendship, and renewed with the sultan the alliance that had been formed by Sequeira. He then proceeded to Pase, whose monarch endeavoured to exculpate himself from the outrage committed against the Portuguese fugitives, and as he could not tarry to take redress he concealed his resentment. In crossing over to Malacca he fell in with a large junk, or country vessel, which he engaged and attempted to board, but the enemy, setting fire to a quantity of inflammable oleaginous matter, he was deterred from his design, with a narrow escape of the destruction of his own ship. The junk was then battered from a distance until forty of her men were killed, when Alboquerque, admiring the bravery of the crew, proposed to them that, if they would strike and acknowledge themselves vassals of Portugal, he would treat them as friends and take them under his protection. This offer was accepted, and the valiant defender of the vessel informed the governor that his name was Jeinal, the lawful heir of the kingdom of Pase; he by whom it was then ruled being a usurper, who, taking advantage of his minority and his own situation as regent, had seized the crown: that he had made attempts to assert his rights, but had been defeated in two battles, and was now proceeding with his adherents to Java, some of the princes of which were his relations, and would, he hoped, enable him to obtain possession of his throne.
And so on May 2, 1511, he set sail from Cochin with nineteen ships and fourteen hundred men. He stopped at Pidir, where he found some fellow countrymen who had escaped from Malacca in a boat and were seeking refuge on the Sumatran shore. They reported that, upon arriving near Pase, they had been mistreated by the locals, who killed one of their group and forced them to flee to Pidir, where the prince welcomed them with hospitality and kindness, seemingly eager to gain the favor of their nation. Alboquerque acknowledged this act of friendship and renewed the alliance that Sequeira had established with the sultan. He then moved on to Pase, where the king tried to defend himself against the wrongful actions taken against the Portuguese refugees, and since he couldn’t stay to seek justice, he kept his anger to himself. While crossing to Malacca, he encountered a large junk, or local ship, which he engaged and attempted to board, but the enemy set fire to some flammable materials, which made him back off, narrowly avoiding the destruction of his own ship. The junk was then attacked from a distance until forty of its crew were killed, at which point Alboquerque, admiring the bravery of the crew, proposed that if they would surrender and acknowledge themselves as subjects of Portugal, he would treat them as friends and offer them protection. This proposal was accepted, and the courageous defender of the vessel informed the governor that his name was Jeinal, the rightful heir to the kingdom of Pase; the current ruler was a usurper who had taken advantage of his youth and his position as regent to seize the crown. He had tried to claim his rights but had been defeated in two battles and was now heading to Java with his supporters, some of whom were his relatives, hoping they would help him reclaim his throne.
1511.
1511.
Alboquerque promised to effect it for him, and desired the prince to accompany him to Malacca, where they arrived the first of July 1511. In order to save the lives of the Portuguese prisoners, and if possible to effect their recovery, he negotiated with the king of Malacca before he proceeded to an attack on the place; which conduct of his Jeinal construed into fear, and, forsaking his new friend, passed over in the night to the Malayan monarch, whose protection he thought of more consequence to him. When Alboquerque had subdued the place, which made a vigorous resistance, the prince of Pase, seeing the error of his policy, returned, and threw himself at the governor's feet, acknowledged his injurious mistrust, and implored his pardon, which was not denied him. He doubted however it seems of a sincere reconciliation and forgiveness, and, perceiving that no measures were taking for restoring him to his kingdom, but on the contrary that Alboquerque was preparing to leave Malacca with a small force, and talked of performing his promise when he should return from Goa, he took the resolution of again attaching himself to the fortunes of the conquered monarch, and secretly collecting his dependants fled once more from the protection of the Portuguese. He probably was not insensible that the reigning king of Pase, his adversary, had for some time taken abundant pains to procure the favour of Alboquerque, and found an occasion of demonstrating his zeal. The governor, on his return from Malacca, met with a violent storm on the coast of Sumatra near the point of Timiang, where his ship was wrecked. Part of the crew making a raft were driven to Pase, where the king treated them with kindness and sent them to the coast of Coromandel by a merchant ship. Some years after these events Jeinal was enabled by his friends to carry a force to Pase, and obtained the ascendency there, but did not long enjoy his power.
Alboquerque promised to help him and asked the prince to come with him to Malacca, where they arrived on July 1, 1511. To save the lives of the Portuguese prisoners and, if possible, bring them back, he negotiated with the king of Malacca before launching an attack on the city. Jeinal interpreted this as fear and, abandoning his new ally, switched sides during the night to the Malayan king, whose protection he believed was more important. Once Alboquerque conquered the city, which put up a strong fight, the prince of Pase realized his mistake and returned, begging for forgiveness at the governor's feet. He admitted his harmful mistrust, which was granted. However, he still doubted the sincerity of the reconciliation and, noticing that no steps were being taken to restore him to his kingdom while Alboquerque was preparing to leave Malacca with a small force and suggested fulfilling his promise upon his return from Goa, he decided to align himself once more with the conquered king, secretly gathering his followers and fleeing again from Portuguese protection. He was likely aware that the reigning king of Pase, his opponent, had been working hard to gain Alboquerque's favor and had found opportunities to show his loyalty. On his way back from Malacca, the governor encountered a violent storm off the coast of Sumatra near Timiang, where his ship was wrecked. Part of the crew managed to build a raft and ended up in Pase, where the king treated them kindly and sent them to the coast of Coromandel on a merchant ship. A few years later, Jeinal was able to return to Pase with the help of his friends and regained power there, but he did not hold on to it for long.
Upon the reduction of Malacca the governor received messages from several of the Sumatran princes, and amongst the rest from the king of a place called Kampar, on the eastern coast, who had married a daughter of the king of Malacca, but was on ill terms with his father-in-law. He desired to become a vassal of the Portuguese crown, and to have leave to reside under their jurisdiction. His view was to obtain the important office of bandhara, or chief magistrate of the Malays, lately vacant by the execution of him who possessed it. He sent before him a present of lignum-aloes and gum-lac, the produce of his country, but Alboquerque, suspecting the honesty of his intentions, and fearing that he either aspired to the crown of Malacca or designed to entice the merchants to resort to his own kingdom, refused to permit his coming, and gave the superintendence of the natives to a person named Nina Chetuan.
After the fall of Malacca, the governor received messages from several Sumatran princes, including one from the king of a place called Kampar on the eastern coast. This king had married the daughter of the king of Malacca but was on bad terms with his father-in-law. He wanted to become a vassal of the Portuguese crown and requested permission to live under their rule. His goal was to secure the important position of bandhara, or chief magistrate of the Malays, which had recently become vacant due to the execution of its former holder. He sent ahead a gift of lignum-aloes and gum-lac, products of his land, but Alboquerque, suspicious of his true intentions and fearing he might be aiming for the crown of Malacca or trying to lure merchants to his own kingdom, refused to allow him to approach and assigned a person named Nina Chetuan to oversee the natives.
1514.
1514.
After some years had elapsed, at the time when Jorge Alboquerque was governor of Malacca, this king (Abdallah by name) persisting in his views, paid him a visit, and was honourably received. At his departure he had assurances given him of liberty to establish himself at Malacca, if he should think proper, and Nina Chetuan was shortly afterwards removed from his office, though no fault was alleged against him. He took the disgrace so much to heart that, causing a pile to be erected before his door, and setting fire to it, he threw himself into the flames.*
After a few years, when Jorge Alboquerque was the governor of Malacca, this king, named Abdallah, stayed firm in his beliefs and paid him a visit, where he was received with honor. When he left, he was assured that he could settle in Malacca if he chose to. Shortly after, Nina Chetuan was removed from his position, although no wrongdoing was mentioned. He took the disgrace so much to heart that he had a pile built in front of his house, set it on fire, and threw himself into the flames.
(*Footnote. This man was not a Mahometan but one of the unconverted natives of the peninsula who are always distinguished from the Moors by the Portuguese writers.)
(*Footnote. This man was not a Muslim but one of the unconverted natives of the peninsula who are always distinguished from the Moors by the Portuguese writers.)
The intention of appointing Abdallah to the office of bandhara was quickly rumoured abroad, and, coming to the knowledge of the king of Bintang, who was driven from Malacca and now carried on a vigorous war against the Portuguese, under the command of the famous Laksamana, he resolved to prevent his arrival there. For this purpose he leagued himself with the king of Lingga, a neighbouring island, and sent out a fleet of seventy armed boats to block up the port of Kampar. By the valour of a small Portuguese armament this force was overcome in the river of that name, and the king conducted in triumph to Malacca, where he was invested in form with the important post he aspired to. But this sacrifice of his independence proved an unfortunate measure to him; for although he conducted himself in such a manner as should have given the amplest satisfaction, and appears to have been irreproachable in the execution of his trust, yet in the following year the king of Bintang found means to inspire the governor with diffidence of his fidelity, and jealousy of his power.
The decision to appoint Abdallah as the bandhara quickly spread, and when it reached the king of Bintang, who had been driven from Malacca and was now waging an aggressive war against the Portuguese under the command of the renowned Laksamana, he decided to stop Abdallah from arriving. To do this, he teamed up with the king of Lingga, a nearby island, and sent out a fleet of seventy armed boats to block the port of Kampar. A small Portuguese force managed to defeat this fleet in the river of the same name, and the king was triumphantly brought to Malacca, where he was formally invested with the important position he desired. However, this compromise of his independence turned out to be a poor decision; even though he acted in a way that should have been completely satisfactory and seemed to perform his duties flawlessly, the following year the king of Bintang found a way to make the governor doubt Abdallah's loyalty and become jealous of his power.
1515.
1515.
He was cruelly sentenced to death without the simplest forms of justice and perished in the presence of an indignant multitude, whilst he called heaven to witness his innocence and direct its vengeance against his interested accusers. This iniquitous and impolitic proceeding had such an effect upon the minds of the people that all of any property or repute forsook the place, execrating the government of the Portuguese. The consequences of this general odium reduced them to extreme difficulties for provisions, which the neighbouring countries refused to supply them with, and but for some grain at length procured from Siak with much trouble the event had proved fatal to the garrison.
He was unfairly sentenced to death without even the most basic forms of justice and died in front of an angry crowd, while he called on heaven to witness his innocence and to take revenge on his self-serving accusers. This unjust and foolish action had such an impact on the people's mindset that everyone with any property or reputation abandoned the place, cursing the Portuguese government. The fallout from this widespread hatred left them in desperate need of supplies, which neighboring countries refused to provide, and if it hadn't been for some grain eventually obtained from Siak with great difficulty, the situation would have been disastrous for the garrison.
1516.
1516.
Fernando Perez d'Andrade, in his way to China, touched at Pase in order to take in pepper. He found the people of the place, as well as the merchants from Bengal, Cambay, and other parts of India, much discontented with the measures then pursuing by the government of Malacca, which had stationed an armed force to oblige all vessels to resort thither with their merchandise and take in at that place, as an emporium, the cargoes they were used to collect in the straits. The king notwithstanding received Andrade well, and consented that the Portuguese should have liberty to erect a fortress in his kingdom.
Fernando Perez d'Andrade, on his way to China, stopped in Pase to pick up some pepper. He found that the locals, as well as the merchants from Bengal, Cambay, and other parts of India, were quite unhappy with the actions taken by the government of Malacca, which had sent an armed force to force all ships to come there with their goods and take on cargoes in that area, instead of collecting them in the straits like they used to. Nevertheless, the king welcomed Andrade and agreed to let the Portuguese build a fortress in his kingdom.
1520.
1520.
Extraordinary accounts having been related of certain islands abounding in gold, which were reported by the general fame of India to lie off the southern coast of Sumatra, a ship and small brigantine, under the command of Diogo Pacheco, an experienced seaman, were sent in order to make the discovery of them. Having proceeded as far as Daya the brigantine was lost in a gale of wind. Pacheco stood on to Barus, a place renowned for its gold trade, and for gum benzoin of a peculiar scent, which the country produced. It was much frequented by vessels, both from the neighbouring ports in the island, and from those in the West of India, whence it was supplied with cotton cloths. The merchants, terrified at the approach of the Portuguese, forsook their ships and fled precipitately to the shore. The chiefs of the country sent to inquire the motives of his visit, which he informed them were to establish friendly connexions and to give them assurances of unmolested freedom of trade at the city of Malacca. Refreshments were then ordered for his fleet, and upon landing he was treated with respect by the inhabitants, who brought the articles of their country to exchange with him for merchandise. His chief view was to obtain information respecting the situation and other circumstances of the ilhas d'Ouro, but they seemed jealous of imparting any. At length, after giving him a laboured detail of the dangers attending the navigation of the seas where they were said to lie, they represented their situation to be distant a hundred leagues to the south-east of Barus, amidst labyrinths of shoals and reefs through which it was impossible to steer with any but the smallest boats. If these islands, so celebrated about this time, existed anywhere but in the regions of fancy,* they were probably those of Tiku, to which it is possible that much gold might be brought from the neighbouring country of Menangkabau. Pacheco, leaving Barus, proceeded to the southward, but did not make the wished-for discovery. He reached the channel that divides Sumatra from Java, which he called the strait of Polimban, from a city he erroneously supposed to lie on the Javan shore, and passing through this returned to Malacca by the east; being the first European who sailed round the island of Sumatra. In the following year he sailed once more in search of these islands, which were afterwards the object of many fruitless voyages; but touching again at Barus he met with resistance there and perished with all his companions.
Extraordinary stories have been told about certain islands rich in gold, believed by many to be located off the southern coast of Sumatra. A ship and a small brigantine, led by the experienced sailor Diogo Pacheco, were sent to find them. After reaching Daya, the brigantine was lost in a storm. Pacheco continued on to Barus, a place famous for its gold trade and for a uniquely scented gum benzoin produced in the area. It was a busy spot for ships coming from local ports and from the West Indies, where they received cotton cloths. The merchants, frightened by the arrival of the Portuguese, abandoned their ships and quickly fled to shore. The local leaders sent to ask about the reasons for his visit, and Pacheco explained that he wanted to establish friendly relations and assure them of safe trading at the city of Malacca. Refreshments were ordered for his fleet, and upon landing, he was treated respectfully by the locals, who brought goods to trade. His main goal was to gather information about the location and other aspects of the ilhas d'Ouro, but they seemed reluctant to share any. Eventually, after a lengthy description of the dangers of navigating the seas where these islands were said to be, they claimed that the islands were a hundred leagues southeast of Barus, among tricky shoals and reefs that could only be navigated by the smallest boats. If these famously discussed islands existed at all, they were likely those of Tiku, where it's possible that a lot of gold could be sourced from the nearby region of Menangkabau. After leaving Barus, Pacheco headed south but did not find what he was looking for. He reached the channel that separates Sumatra from Java, which he named the strait of Polimban, mistakenly thinking a city was located on the Javan shore. After passing through, he returned to Malacca from the east, becoming the first European to sail around the island of Sumatra. The following year, he set out again in search of these islands, which would become the target of many unsuccessful voyages; however, when he stopped again at Barus, he faced resistance and perished along with all his companions.
(*Footnote. Linschoten makes particular mention of having seen them, and gives practical directions for the navigation, but the golden dreams of the Portuguese were never realized in them.)
(*Footnote. Linschoten specifically notes that he saw them and provides practical navigation advice, but the Portuguese's golden dreams were never fulfilled there.)
A little before this time a ship under the command of Gaspar d'Acosta was lost on the island of Gamispola (Pulo Gomez) near Achin Head, when the people from Achin attacked and plundered the crew, killing many and taking the rest prisoners. A ship also which belonged to Joano de Lima was plundered in the road, and the Portuguese which belonged to her put to death. These insults and others committed at Pase induced the governor of Malacca, Garcia de Sa, to dispatch a vessel under Manuel Pacheco to take satisfaction; which he endeavoured to effect by blocking up the ports, and depriving the towns of all sources of provision, particularly their fisheries. As he cruised between Achin and Pase a boat with five men, going to take in fresh water at a river nigh to the latter, would have been cut off had not the people, by wonderful efforts of valour, overcome the numerous party which attacked them. The sultan, alarmed for the consequences of this affray, sent immediately to sue for reconciliation, offering to make atonement for the loss of property the merchants had sustained by the licentiousness of his people, from a participation in whose crimes he sought to vindicate himself. The advantage derived from the connexion with this place induced the government of Malacca to be satisfied with his apology, and cargoes of pepper and raw silk were shortly after procured there; the former being much wanted for the ships bound to China.
A little before this time, a ship led by Gaspar d'Acosta was lost on Gamispola Island (Pulo Gomez) near Achin Head, when people from Achin attacked and looted the crew, killing many and capturing the rest. Another ship owned by Joano de Lima was also raided in the harbor, and the Portuguese crew was killed. These attacks and others at Pase prompted the governor of Malacca, Garcia de Sa, to send a vessel led by Manuel Pacheco to seek retribution; he tried to do this by blocking the ports and cutting off the towns from all sources of food, especially their fisheries. While cruising between Achin and Pase, a boat with five men going to collect fresh water from a river near the latter would have been caught if the people hadn't bravely fought off the larger group that attacked them. Alarmed by the fallout from this incident, the sultan quickly reached out to seek reconciliation, offering to compensate for the property losses the merchants suffered due to his people's reckless behavior, trying to distance himself from their crimes. The benefits of the relationship with this area led the Malacca government to accept his apology, and shortly after, cargoes of pepper and raw silk were obtained from there, with the former being in high demand for ships heading to China.
Jeinal, who had fled to the king of Malacca, as before mentioned, followed that monarch to the island of Bintang, and received one of his daughters in marriage. Six or seven years elapsed before the situation of affairs enabled the king to lend him any effectual assistance, but at length some advantages gained over the Portuguese afforded a proper opportunity, and accordingly a fleet was fitted out, with which Jeinal sailed for Pase. In order to form a judgment of the transactions of this kingdom it must be understood that the people, having an idea of predestination, always conceived present possession to constitute right, however that possession might have been acquired; but yet they made no scruple of deposing and murdering their sovereigns, and justified their acts by this argument; that the fate of concerns so important as the lives of kings was in the hands of God, whose vicegerents they were, and that if it was not agreeable to him and the consequence of his will that they should perish by the daggers of their subjects it could not so happen. Thus it appears that their religious ideas were just strong enough to banish from their minds every moral sentiment. The natural consequence of these maxims was that their kings were merely the tyrants of the day; and it is said that whilst a certain ship remained in the port no less than two were murdered, and a third set up: but allowance should perhaps be made for the medium through which these accounts have been transmitted to us.
Jeinal, who had escaped to the king of Malacca, as mentioned earlier, followed that king to the island of Bintang and married one of his daughters. Six or seven years passed before the king could offer him any real help, but eventually, some victories over the Portuguese provided a good opportunity. A fleet was prepared, and Jeinal set sail for Pase. To understand the events in this kingdom, it’s important to note that the people believed in predestination and thought that current possession meant rightful ownership, no matter how that possession was obtained. However, they had no hesitation in deposing and killing their rulers, justifying their actions with the belief that the fate of important matters like a king's life was in God's hands, of whom they considered themselves representatives. If it was not God's will for a king to die by the hands of his subjects, then it would not happen. Thus, their religious beliefs were strong enough to erase any moral conscience. The natural result of these beliefs was that their kings were just temporary tyrants. It is said that while a certain ship was docked, no fewer than two kings were murdered, and a third was established, but one should consider the medium through which these stories have reached us.
The maternal uncle of Jeinal, who, on account of his father's infirmities, had been some time regent, and had deprived him of the succession to the throne, was also king of Aru or Rou, a country not far distant, and thus became monarch of both places. The caprices of the Pase people, who submitted quietly to his usurpation, rendered them ere long discontented with his government, and being a stranger they had the less compunction in putting him to death. Another king was set up in his room, who soon fell by the hands of some natives of Aru who resided at Pase, in revenge for the assassination of their countryman.
Jeinal's maternal uncle, who had been regent for some time due to his father's health issues and had taken away Jeinal's claim to the throne, was also the king of Aru or Rou, a nearby country, thus becoming the ruler of both places. The unpredictable behavior of the Pase people, who initially accepted his usurpation, soon led to their dissatisfaction with his rule, and since he was an outsider, they felt less guilty about executing him. Another king was installed in his place, but he quickly met his end at the hands of some Aru natives living in Pase, seeking revenge for their countryman's murder.
1519.
1519.
A fresh monarch was elected by the people, and in his reign it was that Jeinal appeared with a force from Bintang, who, carrying everything before him, put his rival to death, and took possession of the throne. The son of the deceased, a youth of about twelve years of age, made his escape, accompanied by the Mulana or chief priest of the city, and procured a conveyance to the west of India. There they threw themselves at the feet of the Portuguese governor, Lopez Sequeira, then engaged in an expedition to the Red Sea, imploring his aid to drive the invader from their country, and to establish the young prince in his rights, who would thenceforth consider himself as a vassal of the crown of Portugal. It was urged that Jeinal, as being nearly allied to the king of Bintang, was an avowed enemy to that nation, which he had manifested in some recent outrages committed against the merchants from Malacca who traded at Pase. Sequeira, partly from compassion, and partly from political motives, resolved to succour this prince, and by placing him on the throne establish a firm interest in the affairs of his kingdom. He accordingly gave orders to Jorge Alboquerque, who was then proceeding with a strong fleet towards Malacca, to take the youth with him, whose name was Orfacam,* and after having expelled Jeinal to put him in possession of the sovereignty.
A new king was elected by the people, and during his reign, Jeinal showed up with an army from Bintang. He swept through everything in his path, killed his rival, and claimed the throne. The deceased king's son, a twelve-year-old boy, managed to escape with the city's chief priest, the Mulana, and got a ride to western India. There, they fell at the feet of the Portuguese governor, Lopez Sequeira, who was on a mission to the Red Sea, begging for his help to remove the invader from their land and to restore the young prince to his rightful place. The prince would then see himself as a vassal of the Portuguese crown. It was argued that Jeinal, being closely related to the king of Bintang, was a known enemy of that nation, which he had shown through recent attacks on merchants from Malacca trading in Pase. Sequeira, motivated partly by compassion and partly by political interests, decided to help the prince. By placing him on the throne, he aimed to secure a strong influence in the kingdom's affairs. He therefore ordered Jorge Alboquerque, who was leading a powerful fleet toward Malacca, to take the boy, named Orfacam,* with him and, after driving out Jeinal, to restore him to power.
(*Footnote. Evidently corrupted, as are most of the country names and titles, which shows that the Portuguese were not at this period much conversant in the Malayan language.)
(*Footnote. Clearly corrupted, as are most of the country names and titles, indicating that the Portuguese were not very familiar with the Malayan language at this time.)
When Jeinal entered upon the administration of the political concerns of the kingdom, although he had promised his father-in-law to carry on the war in concert with him, yet, being apprehensive of the effects of the Portuguese power, he judged it more for his interest to seek a reconciliation with them than to provoke their resentment, and in pursuance of that system had so far recommended himself to Garcia de Sa, the governor of Malacca, that he formed a treaty of alliance with him. This was however soon interrupted, and chiefly by the imprudence of a man named Diogo Vaz, who made use of such insulting language to the king, because he delayed payment of a sum of money he owed him, that the courtiers, seized with indignation, immediately stabbed him with their krises, and, the alarm running through the city, others of the Portuguese were likewise murdered. The news of this affair, reaching Goa, was an additional motive for the resolution taken of dethroning him.
When Jeinal took over the management of the kingdom's political issues, he had promised his father-in-law to continue the war together. However, fearing the consequences of the Portuguese power, he thought it would be better for his interests to seek a truce with them rather than anger them. Following this plan, he had impressed Garcia de Sa, the governor of Malacca, enough to establish a treaty of alliance. This arrangement was soon disrupted, mainly due to the thoughtlessness of a man named Diogo Vaz, who insulted the king for delaying the payment he owed him. The courtiers, filled with rage, immediately stabbed him with their krises, and as the panic spread through the city, other Portuguese were also killed. When this news reached Goa, it further motivated the decision to dethrone him.
1521.
1521.
Jorge d'Alboquerque arrived at Pase in 1521 with Prince Orfacam, and the inhabitants came off in great numbers to welcome his return. The king of Aru had brought thither a considerable force the preceding day, designing to take satisfaction for the murder of his relation, the uncle of Jeinal, and now proposed to Alboquerque that they should make the attack in conjunction, who thought proper to decline it. Jeinal, although he well knew the intention of the enemy, yet sent a friendly message to Alboquerque, who in answer required him to relinquish his crown in favour of him whom he styled the lawful prince. He then represented to him the injustice of attempting to force him from the possession of what was his, not only by right of conquest but of hereditary descent, as was well known to the governor himself; that he was willing to consider himself as the vassal of the king of Portugal, and to grant every advantage in point of trade that they could expect from the administration of his rival; and that since his obtaining the crown he had manifested the utmost friendship to the Portuguese, for which he appealed to the treaty formed with him by the government of Malacca, which was not disturbed by any fault that could in justice be imputed to himself. These arguments, like all others that pass between states which harbour inimical designs, had no effect upon Alboquerque, who, after reconnoitring the ground, gave orders for the attack. The king was now sensible that there was nothing left for him but to conquer or die, and resolved to defend himself to extremity in an entrenchment he had formed at some distance from the town of Pase, where he had never yet ventured to reside as the people were in general incensed against him on account of the destruction of the late king of their choice; for though they were ever ready to demolish those whom they disliked, yet were they equally zealous to sacrifice their own lives in the cause of those to whom they were attached. The Portuguese force consisted but of three hundred men, yet such was the superiority they possessed in war over the inhabitants of these countries that they entirely routed Jeinal's army, which amounted to three thousand, with many elephants, although they fought bravely. When he fell they became dispirited, and, the people of Aru joining in the pursuit, a dreadful slaughter succeeded, and upwards of two thousand Sumatrans lay dead, with the loss of only five or six Europeans; but several were wounded, among whom was Alboquerque himself.
Jorge d'Alboquerque arrived in Pase in 1521 with Prince Orfacam, and the locals came out in large numbers to welcome him back. The king of Aru had brought a significant force the day before, planning to avenge the murder of his relative, Jeinal’s uncle, and he proposed to d'Alboquerque that they should attack together, which d'Alboquerque decided to decline. Jeinal, even though he knew the enemy's intentions, sent a friendly message to d'Alboquerque, who responded by demanding that Jeinal give up his crown in favor of the person he referred to as the rightful prince. He then pointed out the injustice of trying to force him from what was rightfully his, not only by conquest but also by hereditary right, something the governor knew well; he expressed his willingness to see himself as a vassal of the king of Portugal and to provide all the trade benefits that could be expected from the administration of his rival. He noted that since obtaining the crown, he had shown great friendship towards the Portuguese, citing the treaty made with him by the government of Malacca, which had not been disturbed by any wrongdoing on his part. These arguments, like many exchanged between states with hostile intentions, had no effect on d'Alboquerque, who, after surveying the area, ordered the attack. The king now realized his only options were to conquer or die, and he resolved to defend himself to the end from the fortification he had set up some distance from the town of Pase, where he had never dared to live because the people generally resented him for the destruction of the last king they supported; even though they were always ready to eliminate those they disliked, they were equally eager to risk their own lives for those they cared about. The Portuguese force consisted of only three hundred men, yet their military superiority over the locals allowed them to completely rout Jeinal’s army, which numbered three thousand and included many elephants, even though they fought bravely. When he fell, they lost heart, and the people of Aru joined in the chase, resulting in a horrific slaughter, with over two thousand Sumatrans dead and only five or six Europeans lost, although several were wounded, including d'Alboquerque himself.
The next measure was to place the young prince upon the throne, which was performed with much ceremony. The mulana was appointed his governor, and Nina Cunapan, who in several instances had shown a friendship for the Portuguese, was continued in the office of Shabandar. It was stipulated that the prince should do homage to the crown of Portugal, give a grant of the whole produce of pepper of his country at a certain price, and defray the charges of a fortress which they then prepared to erect in his kingdom, and of which Miranda d'Azeuedo was appointed captain, with a garrison of a hundred soldiers. The materials were mostly timber, with which the ruins of Jeinal's entrenchment supplied them. After Alboquerque's departure the works had nearly fallen into the hands of an enemy, named Melek-el-adil, who called himself sultan of Pase and made several desultory attacks upon them; but he was at length totally routed, and the fortifications were completed without further molestation.
The next step was to place the young prince on the throne, which was done with a lot of ceremony. The mulana was named his governor, and Nina Cunapan, who had shown loyalty to the Portuguese in several instances, was kept in the position of Shabandar. It was agreed that the prince would pay tribute to the crown of Portugal, grant the total pepper production of his country at a set price, and cover the costs of a fort they were preparing to build in his kingdom, with Miranda d'Azeuedo appointed as captain and a hundred soldiers in the garrison. The main materials were timber, sourced from the ruins of Jeinal's entrenchment. After Alboquerque left, the project nearly fell into the hands of an enemy named Melek-el-adil, who called himself the sultan of Pase and launched several sporadic attacks on them; however, he was eventually completely defeated, and the fortifications were finished without further issues.
1521.
1521.
A fleet which sailed from the west of India a short time after that of Alboquerque, under the command of Jorge de Brito, anchored in the road of Achin, in their way to the Molucca Islands. There was at this time at that place a man of the name of Joano Borba, who spoke the language of the country, having formerly fled thither from Pase when Diogo Vaz was assassinated. Being afterwards intrusted with the command of a trading vessel from Goa, which foundered at sea, he again reached Achin, with nine men in a small boat, and was hospitably received by the king, when he learned that the ship had been destined to his port. Borba came off to the fleet along with a messenger sent by the king to welcome the commander and offer him refreshments for his fleet, and, being a man of extraordinary loquacity, he gave a pompous description to Brito of a temple in the country in which was deposited a large quantity of gold: he mentioned likewise that the king was in possession of the artillery and merchandise of Gaspar d'Acosta's vessel, some time since wrecked there; and also of the goods saved from a brigantine driven on shore at Daya, in Pacheco's expedition; as well as of Joano de Lima's ship, which he had caused to be cut off. Brito, being tempted by the golden prize, which he conceived already in his power, and inflamed by Borba's representation of the king's iniquities, sent a message in return to demand the restitution of the artillery, ship, and goods, which had been unlawfully seized. The king replied that, if he wanted those articles to be refunded, he must make his demand to the sea which had swallowed them up. Brito and his captains now resolved to proceed to an attack upon the place, and so secure did they make themselves of their prey that they refused permission to a ship lately arrived, and which did not belong to their squadron, to join them or participate in the profits of their adventure. They prepared to land two hundred men in small boats; a larger, with a more considerable detachment and their artillery, being ordered to follow. About daybreak they had proceeded halfway up the river, and came near to a little fort designed to defend the passage, where Brito thought it advisable to stop till the remainder of their force should join them; but, being importuned by his people, he advanced to make himself master of the fort, which was readily effected. Here he again resolved to make his stand, but by the imprudence of his ensign, who had drawn some of the party into a skirmish with the Achinese, he was forced to quit that post in order to save his colours, which were in danger. At this juncture the king appeared at the head of eight hundred or a thousand men, and six elephants. A desperate conflict ensued, in which the Portuguese received considerable injury. Brito sent orders for the party he had left to come up, and endeavoured to retreat to the fort, but he found himself so situated that it could not be executed without much loss, and presently after he received a wound from an arrow through the cheeks. No assistance arriving, it was proposed that they should retire in the best manner they could to their boats; but this Brito would not consent to, preferring death to flight, and immediately a lance pierced his thighs, and he fell to the ground. The Portuguese, rendered desperate, renewed the combat with redoubled vigour, all crowding to the spot where their commander lay, but their exertions availed them nothing against such unequal force, and they only rushed on to sacrifice. Almost every man was killed, and among these were near fifty persons of family who had embarked as volunteers. Those who escaped belonged chiefly to the corps-de-reserve, who did not, or could not, come up in time to succour their unfortunate companions. Upon this merited defeat the squadron immediately weighed anchor, and, after falling in with two vessels bound on the discovery of the Ilhas d'Ouro, arrived at Pase, where they found Alboquerque employed in the construction of his fortress, and went with him to make an attack on Bintang.
A fleet that set sail from western India shortly after Alboquerque's group, commanded by Jorge de Brito, stopped at Achin on their way to the Molucca Islands. At that time, there was a man named Joano Borba who spoke the local language. He had previously fled there from Pase after the assassination of Diogo Vaz. Later, he was given command of a trading ship from Goa that sank at sea, but he made it back to Achin with nine other men in a small boat and received a warm welcome from the king, who learned that the ship was supposed to come to his port. Borba came to the fleet with a messenger sent by the king to greet the commander and offer refreshments for the crew. Borba, known for his talkativeness, excitedly described to Brito a temple nearby that contained a large amount of gold. He also mentioned that the king had control of the cannons and goods from Gaspar d'Acosta's ship, which had previously been wrecked there, and the items salvaged from a brigantine that washed ashore during Pacheco's expedition, as well as those from Joano de Lima's ship, which he had arranged to be taken. Brito, enticed by the prospect of gold that he thought he could easily obtain and motivated by Borba’s story of the king's wrongdoing, sent a message demanding the return of the stolen cannons, ship, and goods. The king responded that if Brito wanted those items back, he should ask the sea that had swallowed them. Brito and his captains then decided to attack the location, feeling so confident about their prize that they denied a recently arrived ship, which was not part of their squadron, permission to join them or share in the spoils. They prepared to send two hundred men in small boats, while a larger boat with extra troops and their artillery would follow. By dawn, they had traveled halfway up the river and approached a small fort meant to defend the passage. Brito thought it best to wait for the rest of their forces to arrive, but pushed by his men, he moved to take the fort, which they did successfully. He planned to hold that position, but due to the recklessness of his ensign, who led some of the group into a skirmish with the Achinese, he had to abandon it to save his flag, which was at risk. At that moment, the king appeared with eight hundred to a thousand men and six elephants. A fierce battle broke out, and the Portuguese suffered significant losses. Brito ordered the group he had left behind to come up and tried to retreat to the fort, but found it impossible without heavy casualties, and shortly after, he was struck by an arrow in the cheek. With no help coming, it was suggested that they should retreat to their boats, but Brito refused, preferring to fight to the end. Just then, a lance pierced his thighs, and he fell to the ground. In a state of desperation, the Portuguese renewed their attack with even greater intensity, all rushing toward where their commander lay, but their efforts were futile against such a larger force, leading only to more sacrifices. Nearly every man was killed, including almost fifty individuals of note who had joined as volunteers. Those who survived mainly belonged to the reserve corps, who either didn't arrive in time or couldn't reach their unfortunate comrades. Following this deserved defeat, the fleet immediately set sail and, after encountering two ships heading for the exploration of the Ilhas d'Ouro, arrived at Pase, where they found Alboquerque busy building his fortress, and went with him to launch an attack on Bintang.
STATE OF ACHIN IN 1511.
Achin in 1511.
At the period when Malacca fell into the hands of the Portuguese Achin and Daya are said by the historians of that nation to have been provinces subject to Pidir, and governed by two slaves belonging to the sultan of that place, to each of whom he had given a niece in marriage. Slaves, it must be understood, are in that country on a different footing from those in most other parts of the world, and usually treated as children of the family. Some of them are natives of the continent of India, whom their masters employ to trade for them; allowing them a certain proportion of the profits and permission to reside in a separate quarter of the city. It frequently happened also that men of good birth, finding it necessary to obtain the protection of some person in power, became voluntary slaves for this purpose, and the nobles, being proud of such dependants, encouraged the practice by treating them with a degree of respect, and in many instances they made them their heirs. The slave of this description who held the government of Achin had two sons, the elder of whom was named Raja Ibrahim, and the younger Raja Lella, and were brought up in the house of their master. The father being old was recalled from his post; but on account of his faithful services the sultan gave the succession to his eldest son, who appears to have been a youth of an ambitious and very sanguinary temper. A jealousy had taken place between him and the chief of Daya whilst they were together at Pidir, and as soon as he came into power he resolved to seek revenge, and with that view entered in a hostile manner the district of his rival. When the sultan interposed it not only added fuel to his resentment but inspired him with hatred towards his master, and he showed his disrespect by refusing to deliver up, on the requisition of the sultan, certain Portuguese prisoners taken from a vessel lost at Pulo Gomez, and which he afterwards complied with at the intercession of the Shabandar of Pase. This conduct manifesting an intention of entirely throwing off his allegiance, his father endeavoured to recall him to a sense of his duty by representing the obligations in which the family were indebted to the sultan, and the relationship which so nearly connected them. But so far was this admonition from producing any good effect that he took offence at his father's presumption, and ordered him to be confined in a cage, where he died.
When Malacca fell to the Portuguese, historians from that nation claimed that Achin and Daya were provinces under Pidir's rule, managed by two slaves belonging to the sultan of that area, each of whom he had married to a niece. In that country, slaves are treated differently than in most parts of the world and are often regarded as part of the family. Some are natives of the Indian continent, whom their masters send out to trade, giving them a share of the profits and permission to live in their own area of the city. It often happened that men of noble birth, needing the protection of someone powerful, became voluntary slaves and the nobles, proud of these dependents, encouraged the practice by treating them with respect, sometimes even making them their heirs. The slave who governed Achin had two sons; the older was named Raja Ibrahim, and the younger Raja Lella, and they grew up in their father's house. The father, now old, was called back from his position, but due to his loyal service, the sultan gave the role to his eldest son, who seemed to be an ambitious and aggressive young man. Jealousy developed between him and the chief of Daya while they were in Pidir, and as soon as he gained power, he sought revenge, invading his rival's territory. When the sultan intervened, it not only fueled his anger but also made him resent his master. He disrespected the sultan by refusing to hand over certain Portuguese prisoners taken from a ship wrecked at Pulo Gomez, only complying later under the urging of the Shabandar of Pase. This behavior indicated his intention to completely renounce his loyalty, so his father tried to remind him of their family's obligations to the sultan and their close ties. However, this advice backfired; he was offended by his father's presumption and ordered him confined in a cage, where he eventually died.
1521.
1521.
Irritated by these acts, the sultan resolved to proceed to extremities against him; but by means of the plunder of some Portuguese vessels, as before related, and the recent defeat of Brito's party, he became so strong in artillery and ammunition, and so much elated with success, that he set his master at defiance and prepared to defend himself. His force proved superior to that of Pidir, and in the end he obliged the sultan to fly for refuge and assistance to the European fortress at Pase, accompanied by his nephew, the chief of Daya, who was also forced from his possessions.
Annoyed by these actions, the sultan decided to take extreme measures against him; however, due to the loot from some Portuguese ships, as mentioned earlier, and the recent defeat of Brito's group, he became so well-equipped with artillery and ammunition, and so boosted by his success, that he openly defied his master and prepared to defend himself. His forces turned out to be stronger than Pidir's, and ultimately, he forced the sultan to flee for safety and help to the European fortress at Pase, accompanied by his nephew, the chief of Daya, who was also driven from his lands.
1522.
1522.
Ibrahim had for some time infested the Portuguese by sending out parties against them, both by sea and land; but these being always baffled in their attempts with much loss, he began to conceive a violent antipathy against that nation, which he ever after indulged to excess. He got possession of the city of Pidir by bribing the principal officers, a mode of warfare that he often found successful and seldom neglected to attempt. These he prevailed upon to write a letter to their master, couched in artful terms, in which they besought him to come to their assistance with a body of Portuguese, as the only chance of repelling the enemy by whom they pretended to be invested. The sultan showed this letter to Andre Henriquez, then governor of the fort, who, thinking it a good opportunity to chastise the Achinese, sent by sea a detachment of eighty Europeans and two hundred Malays under the command of his brother Manuel, whilst the sultan marched overland with a thousand men and fifteen elephants to the relief of the place. They arrived at Pidir in the night, but, being secretly informed that the king of Achin was master of the city, and that the demand for succour was a stratagem, they endeavoured to make their retreat; which the land troops effected, but before the tide could enable the Portuguese to get their boats afloat they were attacked by the Achinese, who killed Manuel and thirty-five of his men.
Ibrahim had been a thorn in the side of the Portuguese for a while, sending out attacks against them both by sea and land. However, after suffering many defeats with significant losses, he developed a strong hatred for that nation, which he continued to nurture intensely. He took control of the city of Pidir by bribing the top officials, a tactic that often proved successful and seldom went unused. He convinced them to write a cleverly worded letter to their ruler, asking for help in the form of a contingent of Portuguese, claiming it was the only way to fend off the enemy they said was surrounding them. The sultan showed this letter to Andre Henriquez, the governor of the fort at the time. Seeing it as a good chance to punish the Achinese, he dispatched a naval unit of eighty Europeans and two hundred Malays led by his brother Manuel. Meanwhile, the sultan marched overland with a thousand men and fifteen elephants to aid the city. They reached Pidir at night, but upon secretly learning that the king of Achin controlled the city and that the plea for help was a ruse, they tried to retreat. The land troops managed to escape, but before the tide allowed the Portuguese to launch their boats, the Achinese attacked, killing Manuel and thirty-five of his men.
Henriquez, perceiving his situation at Pase was becoming critical, not only from the force of the enemy but the sickly state of his garrison, and the want of provisions, which the country people now withheld from him, discontinuing the fairs that they were used to keep three times in the week, dispatched advices to the governor of India, demanding immediate succours, and also sent to request assistance of the king of Aru, who had always proved the steadfast friend of Malacca, and who, though not wealthy, because his country was not a place of trade, was yet one of the most powerful princes in those parts. The king expressed his joy in having an opportunity of serving his allies, and promised his utmost aid; not only from friendship to them, but indignation against Ibrahim, whom he regarded as a rebellious slave.
Henriquez realized that his situation at Pase was getting critical, not just because of the enemy's strength but also due to the poor health of his troops and the lack of supplies, which the local people were now withholding from him by stopping the regular markets they used to hold three times a week. He sent a message to the governor of India, asking for immediate help, and also reached out to request assistance from the king of Aru, who had always been a loyal friend to Malacca. Although the king's country wasn’t wealthy, as it wasn't a trading hub, he was still one of the most powerful rulers in the region. The king was happy to have the chance to help his allies and promised to give his full support, not only out of friendship but also out of anger toward Ibrahim, whom he saw as a rebellious slave.
1523.
1523.
A supply of stores at length arrived from India under the charge of Lopo d'Azuedo, who had orders to relieve Henriquez in the command; but, disputes having arisen between them, and chiefly on the subject of certain works which the shabandar of Pase had been permitted to erect adjoining to the fortress, d'Azuedo, to avoid coming to an open rupture, departed for Malacca. Ibrahim, having found means to corrupt the honesty of this shabandar, who had received his office from Alboquerque, gained intelligence through him of all that passed. This treason, it is supposed, he would not have yielded to but for the desperate situation of affairs. The country of Pase was now entirely in subjection to the Achinese, and nothing remained unconquered but the capital, whilst the garrison was distracted with internal divisions.
A shipment of supplies finally arrived from India, led by Lopo d'Azuedo, who was ordered to take over from Henriquez. However, disagreements broke out between them, mainly regarding some construction work that the shabandar of Pase was allowed to build next to the fortress. To avoid a direct conflict, d'Azuedo decided to leave for Malacca. Ibrahim managed to bribe this shabandar, who had been appointed by Alboquerque, and through him, he learned everything that was happening. It’s believed that he wouldn’t have resorted to this betrayal if it weren't for the dire state of affairs. The region of Pase was now completely under the control of the Achinese, with only the capital remaining unconquered, while the garrison was torn apart by internal conflicts.
After the acquisition of Pidir the king thought it necessary to remain there some time in order to confirm his authority, and sent his brother Raja Lella with a large army to reduce the territories of Pase, which he effected in the course of three months, and with the more facility because all the principal nobility had fallen in the action with Jeinal. He fixed his camp within half a league of the city, and gave notice to Ibrahim of the state in which matters were, who speedily joined him, being anxious to render himself master of the place before the promised succours from the king of Aru could arrive. His first step was to issue a proclamation, giving notice to the people of the town that whoever should submit to his authority within six days should have their lives, families, and properties secured to them, but that all others must expect to feel the punishment due to their obstinacy. This had the effect he looked for, the greater part of the inhabitants coming over to his camp. He then commenced his military operations, and in the third attack got possession of the town after much slaughter; those who escaped his fury taking shelter in the neighbouring mountains and thick woods. He sent a message to the commander of the fortress, requiring him to abandon it and to deliver into his hands the kings of Pidir and Daya, to whom he had given protection. Henriquez returned a spirited answer to this summons, but, being sickly at the time, at best of an unsteady disposition, and too much attached to his trading concerns for a soldier, he resolved to relinquish the command to his relation Aires Coelho, and take passage for the West of India.
After taking Pidir, the king thought it was important to stay a while to solidify his control, so he sent his brother Raja Lella with a large army to take over the territories of Pase, which he managed to do in three months. This was easier since most of the main nobles had died in the battle against Jeinal. He set up his camp about half a league from the city and informed Ibrahim of the situation, who quickly joined him, eager to capture the city before the promised reinforcements from the king of Aru arrived. His first move was to announce a proclamation, letting the townspeople know that anyone who submitted to his authority within six days would have their lives, families, and property protected, but those who didn’t could expect severe punishment for their defiance. This had the desired effect, and most of the residents came over to his camp. He then started his military operations, and after three attacks, he took the town after a lot of bloodshed; those who managed to escape fled to the nearby mountains and dense forests. He sent a message to the commander of the fortress, demanding that he surrender and hand over the kings of Pidir and Daya, whom he had been protecting. Henriquez replied defiantly to this demand, but since he was feeling unwell and had a generally unstable temperament, plus was too invested in his trade to be a soldier, he decided to hand over command to his relative Aires Coelho and take a ship to the West Indies.
1523.
1523.
He had not advanced farther on his voyage than the point of Pidir, when he fell in with two Portuguese ships bound to the Moluccas, the captains of which he made acquainted with the situation of the garrison, and they immediately proceeded to its relief. Arriving in the night they heard great firing of cannon, and learned next morning that the Achinese had made a furious assault in hopes of carrying the fortress before the ships, which were descried at a distance, could throw succours into it. They had mastered some of the outworks, and the garrison represented that it was impossible for them to support such another shock without aid from the vessels. The captains, with as much force as could be spared, entered the fort, and a sally was shortly afterwards resolved on and executed, in which the besiegers sustained considerable damage. Every effort was likewise employed to repair the breaches and stop up the mines that had been made by the enemy in order to effect a passage into the place. Ibrahim now attempted to draw them into a snare by removing his camp to a distance and making a feint of abandoning his enterprise; but this stratagem proved ineffectual. Reflecting then with indignation that his own force consisted of fifteen thousand men whilst that of the Europeans did not exceed three hundred and fifty, many of whom were sick and wounded, and others worn out with the fatigue of continual duty (intelligence whereof was conveyed to him), he resolved once more to return to the siege, and make a general assault upon all parts of the fortification at once. Two hours before daybreak he caused the place to be surrounded with eight thousand men, who approached in perfect silence. The nighttime was preferred by these people for making their attacks as being then most secure from the effect of firearms, and they also generally chose a time of rain, when the powder would not burn. As soon as they found themselves perceived they set up a hideous shout, and, fixing their scaling ladders, made of bamboo and wonderfully light, to the number of six hundred, they attempted to force their way through the embrasures for the guns; but after a strenuous contest they were at length repulsed. Seven elephants were driven with violence against the paling of one of the bastions, which gave way before them like a hedge, and overset all the men who were on it. Javelins and pikes these enormous beasts made no account of, but upon setting fire to powder under their trunks they drew back with precipitation in spite of all the efforts of their drivers, overthrew their own people, and, flying to the distance of several miles, could not again be brought into the lines. The Achinese upon receiving this check thought to take revenge by setting fire to some vessels that were in the dockyard; but this proved an unfortunate measure to them, for by the light which it occasioned the garrison were enabled to point their guns, and did abundant execution.
He hadn't traveled further on his journey than the point of Pidir when he encountered two Portuguese ships heading to the Moluccas. He informed the captains about the situation of the garrison, and they immediately went to assist. Arriving at night, they heard intense cannon fire and learned the next morning that the Achinese had launched a fierce assault, hoping to capture the fortress before the ships, which were spotted in the distance, could provide support. They had taken control of some of the outer defenses, and the garrison reported that they couldn't withstand another attack without help from the vessels. The captains, with as much manpower as they could spare, entered the fort, and shortly after, they decided to make a counterattack, which caused significant damage to the besiegers. They also worked hard to repair the breaches and seal off the mines that the enemy had dug to gain entry into the fort. Ibrahim then tried to trick them by moving his camp away and pretending to abandon his attack, but this tactic didn't work. He grew angry when he realized his own force had fifteen thousand men, while the Europeans had only about three hundred fifty, many of whom were sick or injured, and others were exhausted from constant duty (he received word of this). He decided to return to the siege and launch a coordinated assault on all sides of the fortifications at once. Two hours before dawn, he surrounded the fort with eight thousand men, who approached in complete silence. They preferred nighttime for attacks, believing it offered more security from gunfire, and they often chose to strike during rain when powder wouldn’t ignite. As soon as they realized they had been spotted, they let out a terrifying shout and, using six hundred remarkably light bamboo scaling ladders, tried to break through the gun embrasures; however, after a fierce battle, they were eventually pushed back. Seven elephants were violently charged against the fence of one of the bastions, which collapsed under their weight like a hedge, knocking over everyone on it. The enormous creatures ignored javelins and pikes, but when powder was set on fire under their trunks, they panicked despite all the efforts of their handlers, trampled their own troops, and fled several miles away, not to be brought back. After this setback, the Achinese attempted to avenge themselves by setting fire to some ships in the dockyard, but this backfired, as the light from the flames allowed the garrison to accurately aim their guns and cause significant damage.
1524.
1524.
Henriquez, after beating sometime against a contrary wind, put back to Pase, and, coming on shore the day after this conflict, resumed his command. A council was soon after held to determine what measures were fittest to be pursued in the present situation of affairs, and, taking into their consideration that no further assistance could be expected from the west of India in less than six months, that the garrison was sickly and provisions short, it was resolved by a majority of votes to abandon the place, and measures were taken accordingly. In order to conceal their intentions from the enemy they ordered such of the artillery and stores as could be removed conveniently to be packed up in the form of merchandise and then shipped off. A party was left to set fire to the buildings, and trains of powder were so disposed as to lead to the larger cannon, which they overcharged that they might burst as soon as heated. But this was not effectually executed, and the pieces mostly fell into the hands of the Achinese, who upon the first alarm of the evacuation rushed in, extinguished the flames, and turned upon the Portuguese their own artillery, many of whom were killed in the water as they hurried to get into their boats. They now lost as much credit by this ill conducted retreat as they had acquired by their gallant defence, and were insulted by the reproachful shouts of the enemy, whose power was greatly increased by this acquisition of military stores, and of which they often severely experienced the effects. To render their disgrace more striking it happened that as they sailed out of the harbour they met thirty boats laden with provisions for their use from the king of Aru, who was himself on his march overland with four thousand men: and when they arrived at Malacca they found troops and stores embarked there for their relief. The unfortunate princes who had sought an asylum with them now joined in their flight; the sultan of Pase proceeded to Malacca, and the sultan of Pidir and chief of Daya took refuge with the king of Aru.
Henriquez, after struggling against a strong headwind for some time, returned to Pase, and came ashore the day after this conflict to resume his command. A meeting was quickly convened to decide on the best course of action given the current situation, and they took into account that no additional help could be expected from the West Indies for at least six months, that the garrison was unhealthy, and that provisions were low. A majority voted to abandon the location, and plans were made accordingly. To keep their intentions hidden from the enemy, they ordered that any artillery and supplies that could be easily moved be packed as merchandise and shipped off. A team was left behind to set fire to the buildings, and explosives were arranged to lead to the larger cannons, which they overloaded to make them burst when heated. However, this was not executed effectively, and most of the cannons fell into the hands of the Achinese, who, upon hearing the alarm of the evacuation, rushed in, extinguished the flames, and turned the Portuguese's own artillery against them, resulting in many being killed in the water as they hurried to their boats. They lost as much respect through this poorly managed retreat as they had gained through their brave defense, and were insulted by the taunts of the enemy, whose strength was greatly boosted by the captured military supplies, the effects of which they often suffered. To add to their humiliation, as they sailed out of the harbor, they encountered thirty boats loaded with provisions meant for them from the king of Aru, who was himself marching overland with four thousand men; and when they arrived at Malacca, they found troops and supplies ready for their relief. The unfortunate princes who had sought refuge with them now fled alongside; the sultan of Pase went to Malacca, while the sultan of Pidir and the chief of Daya took shelter with the king of Aru.
1525.
1525.
Raja Nara, king of Indragiri, in conjunction with a force from Bintang, attacked the king of a neighbouring island called Lingga, who was in friendship with the Portuguese. A message which passed on this occasion gives a just idea of the style and manners of this people. Upon their acquainting the king of Lingga, in their summons of surrender, that they had lately overcome the fleet of Malacca, he replied that his intelligence informed him of the contrary; that he had just made a festival and killed fifty goats to celebrate one defeat which they had received, and hoped soon to kill a hundred in order to celebrate a second. His expectations were fulfilled, or rather anticipated, for the Portuguese, having a knowledge of the king of Indragiri's design, sent out a small fleet which routed the combined force before the king of Lingga was acquainted with their arrival, his capital being situated high up on the river.
Raja Nara, the king of Indragiri, teamed up with a force from Bintang to attack the king of a nearby island called Lingga, who was friendly with the Portuguese. A message from this encounter gives a clear picture of the style and behavior of these people. When they informed the king of Lingga in their demand for surrender that they had recently defeated the fleet of Malacca, he responded that his information told him otherwise; he had just held a festival and sacrificed fifty goats to celebrate one defeat they had suffered, and he hoped to soon sacrifice a hundred to celebrate a second. His expectations were met—or even exceeded—because the Portuguese, aware of the king of Indragiri's plan, dispatched a small fleet that defeated the combined forces before the king of Lingga even learned of their arrival, as his capital was located far up the river.
1526.
1526.
In the next year, at the conquest of Bintang, this king unsolicited sent assistance to his European allies.
In the following year, during the takeover of Bintang, this king voluntarily sent help to his European allies.
1527.
1527.
However well founded the accounts may have been which the Portuguese have given us of the cruelties committed against their people by the king of Achin, the barbarity does not appear to have been only on one side. Francisco de Mello, being sent in an armed vessel with dispatches to Goa, met near Achin Head with a ship of that nation just arrived from Mecca and supposed to be richly laden. As she had on board three hundred Achinese and forty Arabs he dared not venture to board her, but battered her at a distance, when suddenly she filled and sunk, to the extreme disappointment of the Portuguese, who thereby lost their prize; but they wreaked their vengeance on the unfortunate crew as they endeavoured to save themselves by swimming, and boast that they did not suffer a man to escape. Opportunities of retaliation soon offered.
However valid the accounts might be that the Portuguese have given us about the atrocities committed against their people by the king of Achin, it seems that the brutality wasn't one-sided. Francisco de Mello, sent on an armed ship with messages to Goa, encountered a ship from that nation near Achin Head which had just arrived from Mecca and was thought to be carrying a lot of wealth. Since it had three hundred Achinese and forty Arabs on board, he didn't dare to board it, but instead attacked from a distance. Suddenly, the ship filled with water and sank, which deeply disappointed the Portuguese, who lost their prize. However, they took out their anger on the unfortunate crew who tried to save themselves by swimming, claiming that they didn't let a single person escape. Soon enough, opportunities for revenge presented themselves.
1528.
1528.
Simano de Sousa, going with a reinforcement to the Moluccas from Cochin, was overtaken in the bay by a violent storm, which forced him to stow many of his guns in the hold; and, having lost several of his men through fatigue, he made for the nearest port he could take shelter in, which proved to be Achin. The king, having the destruction of the Portuguese at heart, and resolving if possible to seize their vessel, sent off a message to De Sousa recommending his standing in closer to the shore, where he would have more shelter from the gale which still continued, and lie more conveniently for getting off water and provisions, at the same time inviting him to land. This artifice not succeeding, he ordered out the next morning a thousand men in twenty boats, who at first pretended they were come to assist in mooring the ship; but the captain, aware of their hostile design, fired amongst them, when a fierce engagement took place in which the Achinese were repulsed with great slaughter, but not until they had destroyed forty of the Portuguese. The king, enraged at this disappointment, ordered a second attack, threatening to have his admiral trampled to death by elephants if he failed of success. A boat was sent ahead of this fleet with a signal of peace, and assurances to De Sousa that the king, as soon as he was made acquainted with the injury that had been committed, had caused the perpetrators of it to be punished, and now once more requested him to come on shore and trust to his honour. This proposal some of the crew were inclined that he should accept, but being animated by a speech that he made to them it was resolved that they should die with arms in their hands in preference to a disgraceful and hazardous submission. The combat was therefore renewed, with extreme fury on the one side, and uncommon efforts of courage on the other, and the assailants were a second time repulsed; but one of those who had boarded the vessel and afterwards made his escape represented to the Achinese the reduced and helpless situation of their enemy, and, fresh supplies coming off, they were encouraged to return to the attack. De Sousa and his people were at length almost all cut to pieces, and those who survived, being desperately wounded, were overpowered, and led prisoners to the king, who unexpectedly treated them with extraordinary kindness, in order to cover the designs he harboured, and pretended to lament the fate of their brave commander. He directed them to fix upon one of their companions, who should go in his name to the governor of Malacca, to desire he would immediately send to take possession of the ship, which he meant to restore, as well as to liberate them. He hoped by this artifice to draw more of the Portuguese into his power, and at the same time to effect a purpose of a political nature. A war had recently broken out between him and the king of Aru, the latter of whom had deputed ambassadors to Malacca, to solicit assistance, in return for his former services, and which was readily promised to him. It was highly the interest of the king of Achin to prevent this junction, and therefore, though determined to relax nothing in his plans of revenge, he hastened to dispatch Antonio Caldeira, one of the captives, with proposals of accommodation and alliance, offering to restore not only this vessel, but also the artillery which he had taken at Pase. These terms appeared to the governor too advantageous to be rejected. Conceiving a favourable idea of the king's intentions, from the confidence which Caldeira, who was deceived by the humanity shown to the wounded captives, appeared to place in his sincerity, he became deaf to the representations that were made to him by more experienced persons of his insidious character. A message was sent back, agreeing to accept his friendship on the proposed conditions, and engaging to withhold the promised succours from the king of Aru. Caldeira, in his way to Achin, touched at an island, where he was cut off with those who accompanied him. The ambassadors from Aru being acquainted with this breach of faith, retired in great disgust, and the king, incensed at the ingratitude shown him, concluded a peace with Achin; but not till after an engagement between their fleets had taken place, in which the victory remained undecided.
Simano de Sousa, traveling with reinforcements to the Moluccas from Cochin, was caught in a violent storm in the bay, forcing him to stow many of his guns below deck. After losing several men due to exhaustion, he headed for the nearest port where he could find shelter, which turned out to be Achin. The king, wanting to destroy the Portuguese and hoping to seize their ship, sent a message to De Sousa suggesting he move closer to shore for better protection from the ongoing storm and to make it easier to get water and provisions, while also inviting him to come ashore. When this trick didn’t work, he dispatched a thousand men in twenty boats the next morning, pretending to help moor the ship. However, the captain, aware of their true intentions, fired on them, leading to a fierce fight in which the Achinese were defeated with heavy losses, though they managed to kill forty Portuguese. The king, furious over this setback, ordered another attack and threatened that his admiral would be trampled to death by elephants if it failed. A boat was sent ahead of this fleet with a peace signal, assuring De Sousa that the king had punished those responsible for the earlier attack and once again inviting him to land and trust in his honor. Some of the crew wanted to accept the offer, but De Sousa inspired them with a speech, and they decided they would rather die fighting than submit disgracefully. The battle renewed with intense fury from both sides, and the attackers were repulsed again. But one of those who boarded the ship and managed to escape informed the Achinese about the wrecked and vulnerable situation of their enemies, and with fresh reinforcements arriving, they were encouraged to attack again. In the end, De Sousa and his men were mostly slaughtered, and the few who survived, being severely injured, were captured and brought before the king, who surprisingly treated them with great kindness to hide his true intentions and pretended to mourn their brave commander. He instructed them to choose one of their companions to go to the governor of Malacca on his behalf, asking him to send someone to take possession of the ship, which he planned to return, along with liberating them. He hoped this trick would draw more Portuguese into his hands and help him achieve a political goal. A recent war had broken out between him and the king of Aru, who had sent ambassadors to Malacca seeking assistance in return for past services, which was readily promised. It was in the interest of the king of Achin to prevent this alliance, so while still committed to his revenge plans, he quickly sent Antonio Caldeira, one of the captives, with proposals for peace and alliance, offering to return this vessel and the artillery he had taken at Pase. These terms seemed too good to the governor to refuse. Misled by Caldeira’s confidence, who was swayed by the kindness shown to the wounded captives, he ignored warnings from more experienced individuals about the king's deceitful nature. A message was sent back agreeing to accept his friendship under the proposed terms and pledging to withhold promised support from the king of Aru. On his way to Achin, Caldeira stopped at an island, where he and those with him were killed. Upon learning of this betrayal, the ambassadors from Aru departed in great anger, and the king, furious at the ingratitude shown towards him, made peace with Achin, but only after an indecisive naval battle between their fleets.
In order that he might learn the causes of the obscurity in which his negotiations with Malacca rested, Ibrahim dispatched a secret messenger to Senaia Raja, bandhara of that city, with whom he held a correspondence; desiring also to be informed of the strength of the garrison. Hearing in answer that the governor newly arrived was inclined to think favourably of him, he immediately sent an ambassador to wait on him with assurances of his pacific and friendly disposition, who returned in company with persons empowered, on the governor's part, to negotiate a treaty of commerce. These, upon their arrival at Achin, were loaded with favours and costly presents, the news of which quickly flew to Malacca, and, the business they came on being adjusted, they were suffered to depart; but they had not sailed far before they were overtaken by boats sent after them, and were stripped and murdered. The governor, who had heard of their setting out, concluded they were lost by accident. Intelligence of this mistaken opinion was transmitted to the king, who thereupon had the audacity to request that he might be honoured with the presence of some Portuguese of rank and consequence in his capital, to ratify in a becoming manner the articles that had been drawn up; as he ardently wished to see that nation trafficking freely in his dominions.
To understand the reasons behind the uncertainty surrounding his negotiations with Malacca, Ibrahim sent a secret messenger to Senaia Raja, the leader of that city, with whom he corresponded. He also wanted to find out about the strength of the garrison. When he received word that the newly arrived governor was inclined to be favorable towards him, he quickly sent an ambassador to meet with the governor, assuring him of his peaceful and friendly intentions. The ambassador returned with representatives authorized by the governor to negotiate a trade treaty. Upon their arrival in Achin, they were showered with favors and expensive gifts, and the news quickly spread to Malacca. Once the negotiation matters were settled, they were allowed to leave; however, they hadn’t sailed far before boats sent after them caught up, and they were robbed and killed. The governor, having heard about their departure, assumed they had met with an accident. This misunderstanding was reported to the king, who then had the nerve to request that some high-ranking Portuguese come to his capital to formally ratify the agreements they had made, as he eagerly wanted to see that nation trading freely in his territory.
1529.
1529.
The deluded governor, in compliance with this request, adopted the resolution of sending thither a large ship under the command of Manuel Pacheco, with a rich cargo, the property of himself and several merchants of Malacca, who themselves embarked with the idea of making extraordinary profits. Senaia conveyed notice of this preparation to Achin, informing the king at the same time that, if he could make himself master of this vessel, Malacca must fall an easy prey to him, as the place was weakened of half its force for the equipment. When Pacheco approached the harbour he was surrounded by a great number of boats, and some of the people began to suspect treachery, but so strongly did the spirit of delusion prevail in this business that they could not persuade the captain to put himself on his guard. He soon had reason to repent his credulity. Perceiving an arrow pass close by him, he hastened to put on his coat of mail, when a second pierced his neck, and he soon expired. The vessel then became an easy prey, and the people, being made prisoners, were shortly afterwards massacred by the king's order, along with the unfortunate remnant of De Sousa's crew, so long flattered with the hopes of release. By this capture the king was supposed to have remained in possession of more artillery than was left in Malacca, and he immediately fitted out a fleet to take advantage of its exposed state. The pride of success causing him to imagine it already in his power, he sent a taunting message to the governor in which he thanked him for the late instances of his liberality, and let him know he should trouble him for the remainder of his naval force.
The misled governor, following this request, made the decision to send a large ship under the command of Manuel Pacheco, loaded with valuable cargo owned by himself and several merchants from Malacca, who also boarded the ship hoping to make huge profits. Senaia informed Achin of this plan, telling the king at the same time that if he could capture this vessel, Malacca would become an easy target since it had lost half of its strength for the expedition. As Pacheco approached the harbor, he was surrounded by numerous boats, and some of the people began to fear betrayal. However, the delusion was so strong that they couldn't convince the captain to take precautions. He soon regretted his naivety. After noticing an arrow fly close to him, he hurried to put on his armor, only to be struck by a second arrow that pierced his neck, leading to his quick death. The ship then became an easy target, and its crew, taken prisoner, were soon massacred by the king's order, along with the unfortunate remaining members of De Sousa's crew, who were long promised release. With this capture, the king was believed to have more artillery than what remained in Malacca, and he quickly assembled a fleet to exploit its vulnerable state. Fueled by his success, he mistakenly thought he already had it under his control and sent a mocking message to the governor, thanking him for his recent acts of generosity and informing him that he would be asking for the rest of his naval force.
Senaia had promised to put the citadel into his hands, and this had certainly been executed but for an accident that discovered his treasonable designs. The crews of some vessels of the Achinese fleet landed on a part of the coast not far from the city, where they were well entertained by the natives, and in the openness of conviviality related the transactions which had lately passed at Achin, the correspondence of Senaia, and the scheme that was laid for rising on the Portuguese when they should be at church, murdering them, and seizing the fortress. Intelligence of this was reported with speed to the governor, who had Senaia instantly apprehended and executed. This punishment served to intimidate those among the inhabitants who were engaged in the conspiracy, and disconcerted the plans of the king of Achin.
Senaia had promised to hand over the citadel to him, and that plan was definitely in motion, but then an accident revealed his treasonous intentions. Crews from some ships in the Achinese fleet landed on a section of the coast not far from the city, where they were warmly welcomed by the locals. In the spirit of friendliness, they spoke openly about recent events in Achin, Senaia's correspondence, and the plot to attack the Portuguese while they were at church, kill them, and take control of the fortress. Word of this quickly reached the governor, who had Senaia arrested and executed immediately. This punishment served to scare those among the locals who were involved in the conspiracy, and it disrupted the plans of the king of Achin.
This appears to be the last transaction of Ibrahim's reign recorded by the Portuguese historians. His death is stated by De Barros to have taken place in the year 1528 in consequence of poison administered to him by one of his wives, to revenge the injuries her brother, the chief of Daya, had suffered at his hand. In a Malayan work (lately come into my possession) containing the annals of the kingdom of Achin, it is said that a king, whose title was sultan Saleh-eddin-shah, obtained the sovereignty in a year answering to 1511 of our era, and who, after reigning about eighteen years, was dethroned by a brother in 1529. Notwithstanding some apparent discordance between the two accounts there can be little doubt of the circumstances applying to the same individual, as it may well be presumed that, according to the usual practice in the East, he adopted upon ascending the throne a title different from the name which he had originally borne, although that might continue to be his more familiar appellation, especially in the mouths of his enemies. The want of precise coincidence in the dates cannot be thought an objection, as the event not falling under the immediate observation of the Portuguese they cannot pretend to accuracy within a few months, and even their account of the subsequent transactions renders it more probable that it happened in 1529; nor are the facts of his being dethroned by the brother, or put to death by the sister, materially at variance with each other; and the latter circumstance, whether true or false, might naturally enough be reported at Malacca.
This seems to be the final transaction of Ibrahim's reign recorded by Portuguese historians. De Barros states that he died in 1528 from poison given to him by one of his wives, seeking revenge for the wrongs her brother, the chief of Daya, had suffered at his hands. In a recent Malayan work I acquired, which contains the history of the kingdom of Achin, it's mentioned that a king named Sultan Saleh-eddin-shah took power in a year corresponding to 1511 in our calendar, and after ruling for about eighteen years, he was overthrown by a brother in 1529. Despite some apparent discrepancies between the two accounts, there's little doubt they refer to the same person, as it's likely he adopted a different title upon becoming king, which is common practice in the East, while his original name might still have been used by those close to him, especially his enemies. The lack of exact matching dates shouldn't be seen as a problem since the event was not directly observed by the Portuguese, and they can't claim accuracy to within a few months. Their account of subsequent events makes it more likely that it happened in 1529. Additionally, the facts of him being overthrown by his brother or killed by his sister aren't fundamentally at odds; whether the latter is true or false, it could have easily been reported in Malacca.
1529.
1529.
His successor took the name of Ala-eddin-shah, and afterwards, from his great enterprises, acquired the additional epithet of keher or the powerful. By the Portuguese he is said to have styled himself king of Achin, Barus, Pidir, Pase, Daya, and Batta, prince of the land of the two seas, and of the mines of Menangkabau.
His successor adopted the name Ala-eddin-shah and later, due to his significant achievements, earned the title keher, meaning the powerful. According to the Portuguese, he referred to himself as the king of Achin, Barus, Pidir, Pase, Daya, and Batta, as well as the prince of the land of the two seas and the mines of Menangkabau.
1537.
1537.
Nothing is recorded of his reign until the year 1537, in which he twice attacked Malacca. The first time he sent an army of three thousand men who landed near the city by night, unperceived by the garrison, and, having committed some ravages in the suburbs, were advancing to the bridge, when the governor, Estavano de Gama, sallied out with a party and obliged them to retreat for shelter to the woods. Here they defended themselves during the next day, but on the following night they re-embarked, with the loss of five hundred men. A few months afterwards the king had the place invested with a larger force; but in the interval the works had been repaired and strengthened, and after three days ineffectual attempt the Achinese were again constrained to retire.
Nothing is recorded about his reign until the year 1537, when he launched two attacks on Malacca. The first time, he sent an army of three thousand men who landed near the city at night, unnoticed by the garrison. After causing some damage in the suburbs, they advanced toward the bridge, but the governor, Estavano de Gama, came out with a group and forced them to retreat into the woods. They defended themselves there the next day, but the following night, they re-embarked, losing five hundred men. A few months later, the king sent a larger force to besiege the city; however, in the meantime, the fortifications had been repaired and strengthened, and after three days of unsuccessful attempts, the Achinese were forced to retreat again.
1547.
1547.
In the year 1547 he once more fitted out a fleet against Malacca, where a descent was made; but, contented with some trifling plunder, the army re-embarked, and the vessels proceeded to the river of Parles on the Malayan coast. Hither they were followed by a Portuguese squadron, which attacked and defeated a division of the fleet at the mouth of the river. This victory was rendered famous, not so much by the valour of the combatants, as by a revelation opportunely made from heaven to the celebrated missionary Francisco Xavier of the time and circumstances of it, and which he announced to the garrison at a moment when the approach of a powerful invader from another quarter had caused much alarm and apprehension among them.
In 1547, he equipped a fleet again to go after Malacca, where they landed; however, satisfied with only a small amount of plunder, the army got back on their ships, and the vessels moved on to the Parles River on the Malayan coast. They were pursued by a Portuguese squadron, which attacked and defeated a part of the fleet at the river's mouth. This victory became famous not just because of the bravery of those fighting, but also due to a timely revelation from heaven to the renowned missionary Francisco Xavier about the time and details of the battle, which he shared with the garrison just when the arrival of a strong invader from another direction had caused them a lot of fear and worry.
Many transactions of the reign of this prince, particularly with the neighbouring states of Batta and Aru (about the years 1539 and 1541) are mentioned by Ferdinand Mendez Pinto; but his writings are too apocryphal to allow of the facts being recorded upon his authority. Yet there is the strongest internal evidence of his having been more intimately acquainted with the countries of which we are now speaking, the character of the inhabitants, and the political transactions of the period, than any of his contemporaries; and it appears highly probable that what he has related is substantially true: but there is also reason to believe that he composed his work from recollection after his return to Europe, and he may not have been scrupulous in supplying from a fertile imagination the unavoidable failures of a memory, however richly stored.
Many transactions during this prince's reign, especially with the neighboring states of Batta and Aru (around the years 1539 and 1541), are mentioned by Ferdinand Mendez Pinto; however, his writings are too questionable to be considered reliable. Still, there's strong evidence that he had a deeper understanding of the regions he wrote about, the people living there, and the political events of the time than any of his contemporaries. It seems very likely that what he reported is mostly accurate, but there's also reason to believe he wrote his book from memory after returning to Europe, and he may not have been careful in filling in the gaps with his imagination, despite having a wealth of information.
1556.
1556.
The death of Ala-eddin took place, according to the Annals, in 1556, after a reign of twenty-eight years.
The death of Ala-eddin occurred, according to the Annals, in 1556, after a reign of twenty-eight years.
1565.
1565.
He was succeeded by sultan Husseinshah, who reigned about eight, and dying in 1565 was succeeded by his son, an infant. This child survived only seven months; and in the same year the throne was occupied by Raja Firman-shah, who was murdered soon after.
He was succeeded by Sultan Husseinshah, who ruled for about eight years, and after he died in 1565, his son, an infant, took over. This child lived for only seven months; that same year, Raja Firman-shah took the throne, but he was murdered soon after.
1567.
1567.
His successor, Raja Janil, experienced a similar fate when he had reigned ten months. This event is placed in 1567. Sultan Mansur-shah, from the kingdom of Perak in the peninsula, was the next who ascended the throne.
His successor, Raja Janil, faced a similar fate after ten months on the throne. This event took place in 1567. Sultan Mansur-shah, from the kingdom of Perak on the peninsula, was the next to take over the throne.
1567.
1567.
The western powers of India having formed a league for the purpose of extirpating the Portuguese, the king of Achin was invited to accede to it, and, in conformity with the engagements by which the respective parties were bound, he prepared to attack them in Malacca, and carried thither a numerous fleet, in which were fifteen thousand people of his own subjects, and four hundred Turks, with two hundred pieces of artillery of different sizes. In order to amuse the enemy he gave out that his force was destined against Java, and sent a letter, accompanied with a present of a kris, to the governor, professing strong sentiments of friendship. A person whom he turned on shore with marks of ignominy, being suspected for a spy, was taken up, and being put to the torture confessed that he was employed by the Ottoman emperor and king of Achin to poison the principal officers of the place, and to set fire to their magazine. He was put to death, and his mutilated carcase was sent off to the king. This was the signal for hostilities. He immediately landed with all his men and commenced a regular siege. Sallies were made with various success and very unequal numbers. In one of these the chief of Aru, the king's eldest son, was killed. In another the Portuguese were defeated and lost many officers. A variety of stratagems were employed to work upon the fears and shake the fidelity of the inhabitants of the town. A general assault was given in which, after prodigious efforts of courage, and imminent risk of destruction, the besieged remained victorious. The king, seeing all his attempts fruitless, at length departed, having lost three thousand men before the walls, beside about five hundred who were said to have died of their wounds on the passage. The king of Ujong-tanah or Johor, who arrived with a fleet to the assistance of the place, found the sea for a long distance covered with dead bodies. This was esteemed one of the most desperate and honourable sieges the Portuguese experienced in India, their whole force consisting of but fifteen hundred men, of whom no more than two hundred were Europeans.
The Western powers in India formed an alliance to eliminate the Portuguese, and the king of Achin was invited to join. He prepared to strike at Malacca, bringing a large fleet with him that carried fifteen thousand of his own subjects and four hundred Turks, along with two hundred cannons of various sizes. To distract the enemy, he claimed his forces were aimed at Java and sent a letter with a kris as a gift to the governor, expressing strong friendship. A man he sent ashore under humiliating circumstances was suspected of being a spy, captured, tortured, and revealed he was sent by the Ottoman emperor and the king of Achin to poison the key officials and set their arsenal on fire. He was executed, and his mutilated body was sent to the king. This marked the start of hostilities. He quickly landed with all his troops and laid siege. There were skirmishes with mixed outcomes and very uneven forces. During one of these, the king's eldest son, the chief of Aru, was killed. In another, the Portuguese were defeated, suffering significant losses among their officers. Various tactics were used to instill fear and undermine the loyalty of the townspeople. A major assault took place where, after tremendous bravery and facing the risk of destruction, the besieged managed to remain victorious. The king, realizing his efforts were in vain, eventually retreated, having lost three thousand men at the walls, with about five hundred more dying from their wounds on the way back. The king of Ujong-tanah, or Johor, who arrived with a fleet to assist, found the sea littered with corpses for miles. This siege was considered one of the most desperate and honorable confrontations the Portuguese faced in India, with their entire force being just fifteen hundred men, of which only two hundred were Europeans.
1568.
1568.
In the following year a vessel from Achin bound to Java, with ambassadors on board to the queen of Japara, in whom the king wished to raise up a new enemy against the Portuguese, was met in the straits by a vessel from Malacca, who took her and put all the people to the sword. It appears to have been a maxim in these wars never to give quarter to an enemy, whether resisting or submitting.
In the following year, a ship from Achin heading to Java, carrying ambassadors to the queen of Japara—whom the king wanted to use as a new enemy against the Portuguese—was intercepted in the straits by a ship from Malacca, which captured it and killed everyone on board. It seems to have been a principle in these wars to never show mercy to an enemy, whether they were fighting back or surrendering.
1569.
1569.
In 1569 a single ship, commanded by Lopez Carrasco, passing near Achin, fell in with a fleet coming out of that port, consisting of twenty large galleys and a hundred and eighty other vessels, commanded by the king in person, and supposed to be designed against Malacca. The situation of the Portuguese was desperate. They could not expect to escape, and therefore resolved to die like men. During three days they sustained a continual attack, when, after having by incredible exertions destroyed forty of the enemy's vessels, and being themselves reduced to the state of a wreck, a second ship appeared in sight. The king perceiving this retired into the harbour with his shattered forces.
In 1569, a single ship led by Lopez Carrasco, while passing near Achin, encountered a fleet coming out of that port. This fleet included twenty large galleys and one hundred and eighty other vessels, commanded by the king himself and believed to be headed for Malacca. The Portuguese were in a desperate situation. They knew they couldn’t escape, so they decided to fight to the death. For three days, they endured constant attacks. After incredibly hard work, they managed to destroy forty of the enemy’s ships, but they were left in a state of ruin themselves. Just then, a second ship came into view. The king, seeing this, retreated into the harbor with his battered forces.
It is difficult to determine which of the two is the more astonishing, the vigorous stand made by such a handful of men as the whole strength of Malacca consisted of, or the prodigious resources and perseverance of the Achinese monarch.
It's hard to say which is more astonishing: the strong stance taken by the small group of men that made up all of Malacca, or the incredible resources and determination of the Achinese king.
1573.
1573.
In 1573, after forming an alliance with the queen of Japara, the object of which was the destruction of the European power, he appeared again before Malacca with ninety vessels, twenty-five of them large galleys, with seven thousand men and great store of artillery. He began his operations by sending a party to set fire to the suburbs of the town, but a timely shower of rain prevented its taking effect. He then resolved on a different mode of warfare, and tried to starve the place to a surrender by blocking up the harbour and cutting off all supplies of provisions. The Portuguese, to prevent the fatal consequences of this measure, collected those few vessels which they were masters of, and, a merchant ship of some force arriving opportunely, they put to sea, attacked the enemy's fleet, killed the principal captain, and obtained a complete victory.
In 1573, after forming an alliance with the queen of Japara, aimed at eliminating European power, he returned to Malacca with ninety ships, twenty-five of which were large galleys, carrying seven thousand men and a lot of artillery. He started his campaign by sending a group to set fire to the town's outskirts, but a timely rain put it out. He then decided to change his strategy and attempted to force the city to surrender by blocking the harbor and cutting off all food supplies. To counter the potential disaster of this tactic, the Portuguese gathered the few ships they had control over, and with a merchant ship of significant strength arriving just in time, they went out to sea, attacked the enemy fleet, killed the main captain, and achieved a complete victory.
1574.
1574.
In the year following Malacca was invested by an armada from the queen of Japara, of three hundred sail, eighty of which were junks of four hundred tons burden. After besieging the place for three months, till the very air became corrupted by their stay, the fleet retired with little more than five thousand men, of fifteen that embarked on the expedition.
In the year after Malacca was attacked by a fleet from the queen of Japara, totaling three hundred ships, eighty of which were junks weighing four hundred tons. After laying siege to the place for three months, causing the air to become tainted by their presence, the fleet withdrew with barely five thousand men, from the fifteen thousand that initially set out on the expedition.
1575.
1575.
Scarcely was the Javanese force departed when the king of Achin once more appeared with a fleet that is described as covering the straits. He ordered an attack upon three Portuguese frigates that were in the road protecting some provision vessels, which was executed with such a furious discharge of artillery that they were presently destroyed with all their crews. This was a dreadful blow to Malacca, and lamented, as the historian relates, with tears of blood by the little garrison, who were not now above a hundred and fifty men, and of those a great part noneffective. The king, elated with his success, landed his troops, and laid siege to the fort, which he battered at intervals during seventeen days. The fire of the Portuguese became very slack, and after some time totally ceased, as the governor judged it prudent to reserve his small stock of ammunition for an effort at the last extremity. The king, alarmed at this silence, which he construed into a preparation for some dangerous stratagem, was seized with a panic, and, suddenly raising the siege, embarked with the utmost precipitation; unexpectedly relieving the garrison from the ruin that hung over it, and which seemed inevitable in the ordinary course of events.
Hardly had the Javanese forces left when the king of Achin showed up again with a fleet that reportedly covered the straits. He ordered an attack on three Portuguese frigates that were in the area protecting some supply ships, and the assault was so intense that the frigates were quickly destroyed along with their crews. This was a huge setback for Malacca, mourned, as the historian notes, with tears of blood by the small garrison, which numbered barely a hundred and fifty men, many of whom were not fit for duty. The king, pleased with his victory, landed his troops and laid siege to the fort, bombarding it intermittently for seventeen days. The fire from the Portuguese became weaker and eventually stopped altogether, as the governor decided it was wise to conserve their limited ammunition for a last-ditch effort. The king, worried by this silence—which he interpreted as a sign of a dangerous plot—fell into a panic and, suddenly abandoning the siege, hurriedly retreated, unexpectedly relieving the garrison from the destruction that seemed unavoidable.
1582.
1582.
In 1582 we find the king appearing again before Malacca with a hundred and fifty sail of vessels. After some skirmishes with the Portuguese ships, in which the success was nearly equal on both sides, the Achinese proceeded to attack Johor, the king of which was then in alliance with Malacca. Twelve ships followed them thither, and, having burned some of their galleys, defeated the rest and obliged them to fly to Achin. The operations of these campaigns, and particularly the valour of the commander, named Raja Makuta, are alluded to in Queen Elizabeth's letter to the king, delivered in 1602 by Sir James Lancaster.
In 1582, the king showed up again at Malacca with one hundred and fifty ships. After some skirmishes with the Portuguese vessels, where both sides had nearly equal success, the Achinese moved to attack Johor, whose king was allied with Malacca. Twelve ships followed them there, and after setting some of their galleys on fire, they defeated the rest, forcing them to retreat to Achin. The events of these campaigns, especially the bravery of the commander, Raja Makuta, are mentioned in Queen Elizabeth's letter to the king, which was delivered in 1602 by Sir James Lancaster.
About three or four years after this misfortune Mansur-shah prepared a fleet of no less than three hundred sail of vessels, and was ready to embark once more upon his favourite enterprise, when he was murdered, together with his queen and many of the principal nobility, by the general of the forces, who had long formed designs upon the crown.
About three or four years after this tragedy, Mansur-shah got ready a fleet of no less than three hundred ships and was set to embark once again on his favorite venture when he was killed, along with his queen and many of the top nobles, by the army general who had long been plotting for the throne.
1585.
1585.
This was perpetrated in May 1585, when he had reigned nearly eighteen years. In his time the consequence of the kingdom of Achin is represented to have arrived at a considerable height, and its friendship to have been courted by the most powerful states. No city in India possessed a more flourishing trade, the port being crowded with merchant vessels which were encouraged to resort thither by the moderate rates of the customs levied; and although the Portuguese and their ships were continually plundered, those belonging to every Asiatic power, from Mecca in the West to Japan in the East, appear to have enjoyed protection and security. The despotic authority of the monarch was counterpoised by the influence of the orang-kayas or nobility, who are described as being possessed of great wealth, living in fortified houses, surrounded by numerous dependants, and feeling themselves above control, often giving a licentious range to their proud and impatient tempers.
This took place in May 1585, when he had been reigning for nearly eighteen years. During his rule, the kingdom of Achin was said to have reached a significant peak, attracting the interest of powerful nations. No city in India had a more thriving trade; the port was bustling with merchant ships encouraged to come there due to low customs rates. Despite the constant plundering by the Portuguese and their ships, vessels from every Asian power, from Mecca in the West to Japan in the East, seemed to be safe and secure. The absolute power of the king was balanced by the influence of the orang-kayas or nobility, who were described as very wealthy, living in fortified homes, surrounded by many dependents, and feeling themselves above any control, often letting their proud and restless tempers run wild.
The late monarch's daughter and only child was married to the king of Johor,* by whom she had a son, who, being regarded as heir to the crown of Achin, had been brought to the latter place to be educated under the eye of his grandfather. When the general (whose name is corruptly written Moratiza) assumed the powers of government, he declared himself the protector of this child, and we find him mentioned in the Annals by the title of Sultan Buyong (or the Boy).
The late king's daughter and only child was married to the king of Johor,* and they had a son, who was seen as the heir to the crown of Achin. He was brought to Achin to be raised under the supervision of his grandfather. When the general (whose name is incorrectly written as Moratiza) took control of the government, he proclaimed himself the protector of this child, and he is referred to in the Annals as Sultan Buyong (or the Boy).
(*Footnote. The king of Achin sent on this occasion to Johor a piece of ordnance, such as for greatness, length, and workmanship (says Linschoten), could hardly be matched in all Christendom. It was afterwards taken by the Portuguese, who shipped it for Europe, but the vessel was lost in her passage.)
(*Footnote. The king of Achin sent a piece of artillery to Johor on this occasion, notable for its size, length, and craftsmanship (according to Linschoten), which was hard to match in all of Christendom. It was later captured by the Portuguese, who transported it to Europe, but the ship was lost during the journey.)
1588.
1588.
But before he had completed the third year of his nominal reign he also was dispatched, and the usurper took formal possession of the throne in the year 1588, by the name of Ala-eddin Rayet-shah,* being then at an advanced period of life.
But before he finished his third year of rule, he was also removed, and the usurper officially took the throne in 1588, under the name Ala-eddin Rayet-shah,* at that point in his life.
(*Footnote. Valentyn, by an obvious corruption, names him Sulthan Alciden Ryetza, and this coincidence is strongly in favour of the authenticity and correctness of the Annals. John Davis, who will be hereafter mentioned, calls him, with sufficient accuracy, Sultan Aladin.)
(*Footnote. Valentyn, due to a clear error, refers to him as Sulthan Alciden Ryetza, and this similarity strongly supports the authenticity and accuracy of the Annals. John Davis, who will be mentioned later, refers to him, with enough precision, as Sultan Aladin.)
The Annals say he was the grandson of Sultan Firman-shah; but the Europeans who visited Achin during his reign report him to have been originally a fisherman, who, having afterwards served in the wars against Malacca, showed so much courage, prudence, and skill in maritime affairs that the late king made him at length the chief commander of his forces, and gave him one of his nearest kinswomen to wife, in right of whom he is said to have laid claim to the throne.
The Annals state that he was the grandson of Sultan Firman-shah; however, Europeans who visited Achin during his reign describe him as originally being a fisherman. After serving in the wars against Malacca, he demonstrated such courage, wisdom, and skill in maritime matters that the late king eventually appointed him as the chief commander of his forces and married him to one of his closest relatives, through whom he is said to have claimed the throne.
The French Commodore Beaulieu relates the circumstances of this revolution in a very different manner.*
The French Commodore Beaulieu describes the events of this revolution in a very different way.*
(*Footnote. The commodore had great opportunity of information, was a man of very superior ability, and indefatigable in his inquiries upon all subjects, as appears by the excellent account of his voyage, and of Achin in particular, written by himself, and published in Thevenot's collection, of which there is an English translation in Harris; but it is possible he may, in this instance, have been amused by a plausible tale from the grandson of this monarch, with whom he had much intercourse. John Davis, an intelligent English navigator whose account I have followed, might have been more likely to hear the truth as he was at Achin (though not a frequenter of the court) during Ala-eddin's reign, whereas Beaulieu did not arrive till twenty' years after, and the report of his having been originally a fisherman is also mentioned by the Dutch writers.)
(*Footnote. The commodore had ample access to information, was exceptionally capable, and was tireless in his inquiries on all subjects, as demonstrated by the excellent account of his voyage and specifically of Achin, which he wrote himself and published in Thevenot's collection; there is an English translation in Harris. However, it's possible that he may have been misled by a convincing story from this monarch's grandson, with whom he had a lot of interaction. John Davis, a knowledgeable English navigator whose account I have referenced, was more likely to know the truth since he was in Achin (though not a regular visitor to the court) during Ala-eddin's reign, while Beaulieu only arrived twenty years later. The claim that Beaulieu was originally a fisherman is also noted by Dutch writers.)
He says that, upon the extinction of the ancient royal line, which happened about forty years before the period at which he wrote, the orang-kayas met in order to choose a king, but, every one affecting the dignity for himself, they could not agree and resolved to decide it by force. In this ferment the cadi or chief judge by his authority and remonstrances persuaded them to offer the crown to a certain noble who in all these divisions had taken no part, but had lived in the reputation of a wise, experienced man, being then seventy years of age, and descended from one of the most respectable families of the country. After several excuses on his side, and entreaties and even threats on theirs, he at length consented to accept the dignity thus imposed upon him, provided they should regard him as a father, and receive correction from him as his children; but no sooner was he in possession of the sovereign power than (like Pope Sixtus the Fifth) he showed a different face, and the first step after his accession was to invite the orang-kayas to a feast, where, as they were separately introduced, he caused them to be seized and murdered in a court behind the palace. He then proceeded to demolish their fortified houses, and lodged their cannon, arms, and goods in the castle, taking measures to prevent in future the erection of any buildings of substantial materials that could afford him grounds of jealousy. He raised his own adherents from the lower class of people to the first dignities of the state, and of those who presumed to express any disapprobation of his conduct he made great slaughter, being supposed to have executed not less than twenty thousand persons in the first year of his reign.
He states that, after the ancient royal family ended, which was about forty years before he wrote this, the orang-kayas gathered to choose a king. However, since each of them wanted the title for themselves, they couldn’t agree and decided to resolve it through force. In the midst of this chaos, the cadi, or chief judge, used his authority and persuasion to convince them to offer the crown to a certain noble who had stayed out of these conflicts and was known as a wise and experienced man. At that time, he was seventy years old and came from one of the most respected families in the country. After several of his refusals, along with pleas and even threats from the others, he finally agreed to accept the role they imposed on him, provided they treated him like a father and accepted guidance from him as his children. However, as soon as he gained power, he changed his demeanor. His first action after becoming king was to invite the orang-kayas to a feast, where, as they were introduced one by one, he had them captured and killed in a courtyard behind the palace. He then proceeded to destroy their fortified homes, seizing their cannons, weapons, and possessions, and took measures to prevent the construction of any solid structures that might make him feel threatened. He promoted his own supporters from the lower classes to the top positions in the state, and anyone who dared to express disapproval of his actions faced severe consequences, with estimates suggesting he executed no less than twenty thousand people in the first year of his reign.
From the silence of the Portuguese writers with respect to the actions of this king we have reason to conclude that he did not make any attempts to disturb their settlement of Malacca; and it even appears that some persons in the character of ambassadors or agents from that power resided at Achin, the principal object of whose policy appears to have been that of inspiring him with jealousy and hatred of the Hollanders, who in their turn were actively exerting themselves to supplant the conquerors of India.
From the silence of the Portuguese writers about this king's actions, we can conclude that he did not try to disrupt their settlement in Malacca. It even seems that some individuals acted as ambassadors or agents from that power and lived in Achin, whose main goal seemed to be to stir up jealousy and hatred towards the Dutch, who were actively working to replace the conquerors of India.
1600.
1600.
Towards the close of the sixteenth century they began to navigate these seas; and in June 1600 visited Achin with two ships, but had no cause to boast of the hospitality of their reception. An attempt was made to cut them off, and evidently by the orders or connivance of the king, who had prevailed upon the Dutch admiral to take on board troops and military stores for an expedition meditated, or pretended, against the city of Johor, which these ships were to bombard. Several of the crews were murdered, but after a desperate conflict in both ships the treacherous assailants were overcome and driven into the water, "and it was some pleasure (says John Davis, an Englishman, who was the principal pilot of the squadron) to see how the base Indians did fly, how they were killed, and how well they were drowned."* This barbarous and apparently unprovoked attack was attributed, but perhaps without any just grounds, to the instigation of the Portuguese.
Towards the end of the sixteenth century, they started to navigate these seas; and in June 1600, they visited Achin with two ships, but they had no reason to be proud of the hospitality they received. There was an attempt to ambush them, clearly ordered or allowed by the king, who had convinced the Dutch admiral to take soldiers and military supplies on board for an expedition planned, or at least claimed, against the city of Johor, which these ships were supposed to bombard. Several crew members were killed, but after a fierce battle on both ships, the treacherous attackers were defeated and pushed into the water. "It was somewhat satisfying (says John Davis, an Englishman, who was the main pilot of the squadron) to see how the cowardly Indians fled, how they were killed, and how well they were drowned."* This brutal and seemingly unprovoked attack was blamed, though possibly without proper justification, on the Portuguese.
(*Footnote. All the Dutchmen on shore at the time were made prisoners, and many of them continued in that state for several years. Among these was Captain Frederick Houtman, whose Vocabulary of the Malayan language was printed at Amsterdam in 1604, being the first that was published in Europe. My copy has the writer's autograph.)
(*Footnote. All the Dutchmen on shore at that time were captured and many remained prisoners for several years. Among them was Captain Frederick Houtman, whose Vocabulary of the Malayan language was published in Amsterdam in 1604, making it the first to be published in Europe. My copy has the author's autograph.)
1600.
1600.
In November 1600 Paulus van Caarden, having also the command of two Dutch ships, was received upon his landing with much ceremony; but at his first audience the king refused to read a letter from the Prince of Orange, upon its being suggested to him that instead of paper it was written on the skin of an unclean animal; and the subsequent treatment experienced by this officer was uniformly bad. It appears however that in December 1601 the king was so far reconciled to this new power as to send two ambassadors to Holland, one of whom died there in August 1602, and the other returned to Achin subsequently to the death of his master.
In November 1600, Paulus van Caarden, who was in charge of two Dutch ships, was welcomed with a lot of ceremony upon his arrival. However, during his first meeting with the king, the king refused to read a letter from the Prince of Orange when it was pointed out that it was written on the skin of an unclean animal instead of paper. The treatment this officer received after that was consistently poor. However, it seems that in December 1601, the king became somewhat reconciled to this new power and sent two ambassadors to Holland. One of them died there in August 2002, while the other returned to Achin after the death of his master.
1602.
1602.
The first English fleet that made its appearance in this part of the world, and laid the foundation of a commerce which was in time to eclipse that of every other European state, arrived at Achin in June 1602. Sir James Lancaster, who commanded it, was received by the king with abundant ceremony and respect, which seem with these monarchs to have been usually proportioned to the number of vessels and apparent strength of their foreign guests. The queen of England's letter was conveyed to court with great pomp, and the general, after delivering a rich present, the most admired article of which was a fan of feathers, declared the purpose of his coming was to establish peace and amity between his royal mistress and her loving brother, the great and mighty king of Achin. He was invited to a banquet prepared for his entertainment, in which the service was of gold, and the king's damsels, who were richly attired and adorned with bracelets and jewels, were ordered to divert him with dancing and music. Before he retired he was arrayed by the king in a magnificent habit of the country, and armed with two krises. In the present sent as a return for the queen's there was, among other matters, a valuable ruby set in a ring. Two of the nobles, one of whom was the chief priest, were appointed to settle with Lancaster the terms of a commercial treaty, which was accordingly drawn up and executed in an explicit and regular manner. The Portuguese ambassador, or more properly the Spanish, as those kingdoms were now united, kept a watchful and jealous eye upon his proceedings; but by bribing the spies who surrounded him he foiled them at their own arts, and acquired intelligence that enabled him to take a rich prize in the straits of Malacca, with which he returned to Achin; and, having loaded what pepper he could procure there, took his departure in November of the same year. On this occasion it was requested by the king that he and his officers would favour him by singing one of the psalms of David, which was performed with much solemnity.
The first English fleet to arrive in this part of the world, which would eventually establish a trade that outshone all other European nations, reached Achin in June 1602. Sir James Lancaster, its commander, was welcomed by the king with great ceremony and respect, which seemed to be customary for these monarchs, often based on the number of ships and the apparent strength of their foreign visitors. The letter from the queen of England was brought to court with much pomp, and after delivering a lavish gift, the highlight of which was an ornate fan made of feathers, the general stated that the purpose of his visit was to create peace and friendship between his royal mistress and her affectionate brother, the great and powerful king of Achin. He was invited to a banquet held in his honor, where the service was made of gold, and the king's young women, dressed in fine clothes and adorned with bracelets and jewels, were instructed to entertain him with dancing and music. Before he left, the king provided him with an impressive outfit from the region and armed him with two krises. In return for the queen's gift, there was a valuable ruby set in a ring among other items. Two nobles, including the chief priest, were assigned to negotiate the terms of a trade agreement with Lancaster, which was subsequently drafted and signed in a clear and formal manner. The Portuguese ambassador, more accurately representing Spain since the two kingdoms were now united, kept a close and wary eye on his activities; however, by bribing the spies around him, Lancaster outsmarted them and gathered intelligence that allowed him to seize a valuable prize in the Straits of Malacca, which he brought back to Achin. After loading as much pepper as he could find there, he left in November of the same year. On this occasion, the king requested that he and his officers sing one of the psalms of David, which they performed with great solemnity.
Very little is known of the military transactions of this reign, and no conquest but that of Pase is recorded. He had two sons, the younger of whom he made king of Pidir, and the elder, styled Sultan Muda, he kept at Achin, in order to succeed him in the throne. In the year 1603 he resolved to divide the charge of government with his intended heir, as he found his extraordinary age began to render him unequal to the task, and accordingly invested him with royal dignity; but the effect which might have been foreseen quickly followed this measure. The son, who was already advanced in years, became impatient to enjoy more complete power, and, thinking his father had possessed the crown sufficiently long, he confined him in a prison, where his days were soon ended.
Very little is known about the military activities of this reign, and the only conquest recorded is that of Pase. He had two sons; the younger was made king of Pidir, while the elder, called Sultan Muda, was kept in Achin to succeed him on the throne. In 1603, he decided to share the responsibilities of ruling with his intended heir, as he realized his advanced age was making it difficult for him to manage the task. He officially granted him royal authority, but the predictable consequences soon followed. The son, who was already older, grew impatient for more complete control, and believing his father had held the crown long enough, he imprisoned him, where his life came to an end shortly after.
1604.
1604.
The exact period at which this event took place is not known, but, calculating from the duration of his reign as stated in the Annals, it must have been early in the year 1604.* He was then ninety-five years of age,** and described to be a hale man, but extremely gross and fat.
The exact time this event happened isn't known, but based on the length of his reign mentioned in the Annals, it must have been early in 1604.* He was ninety-five years old at that point,** described as healthy, but very overweight.
(*Footnote. The Dutch commander Joris van Spilbergen took leave of him in April 1603, and his ambassador to Holland, who returned in December, 1604, found his son on the throne, according to Valentyn. Commodore Beaulieu says he died in 1603.)
(*Footnote. The Dutch commander Joris van Spilbergen said goodbye to him in April 1603, and his ambassador to Holland, who came back in December 1604, discovered his son on the throne, as noted by Valentyn. Commodore Beaulieu states he died in 1603.)
(**Footnote. According to Beaulieu Davis says he was about a hundred; and the Dutch voyages mention that his great age prevented his ever appearing out of his palace.)
(**Footnote. Beaulieu Davis claims he was around a hundred years old, and the Dutch voyages note that his advanced age kept him from ever leaving his palace.)
His constitution must have been uncommonly vigorous, and his muscular strength is indicated by this ludicrous circumstance, that when he once condescended to embrace a Dutch admiral, contrary to the usual manners of his country, the pressure of his arms was so violent as to cause excessive pain to the person so honoured. He was passionately addicted to women, gaming, and drink, his favourite beverage being arrack. By the severity of his punishments he kept his subjects in extreme awe of him; and the merchants were obliged to submit to more exactions and oppressions than were felt under the government of his predecessors. The seizure of certain vessels belonging to the people of Bantam and other arbitrary proceedings of that nature are said to have deterred the traders of India from entering into his ports.
His health must have been exceptionally strong, and his physical strength is shown by this ridiculous incident: when he once chose to hug a Dutch admiral, which was unusual for him, the pressure of his arms was so intense that it caused significant pain to the honored individual. He was deeply devoted to women, gambling, and drinking, with arrack being his drink of choice. Through harsh punishments, he instilled immense fear in his subjects; and merchants had to endure more taxes and oppression than they experienced under previous rulers. The confiscation of certain ships belonging to the people of Bantam and other arbitrary actions like that are said to have discouraged Indian traders from coming to his ports.
The new king, who took the name of Ali Maghayat-shah, proved himself, from indolence or want of capacity, unfit to reign. He was always surrounded by his women, who were not only his attendants but his guards, and carried arms for that purpose. His occupations were the bath and the chase, and the affairs of state were neglected insomuch that murders, robberies, oppression, and an infinity of disorders took place in the kingdom for want of a regular and strict administration of justice. A son of the daughter of Ala-eddin had been a favourite of his grandfather, at the time of whose death he was twenty-three years of age, and continued, with his mother, to reside at the court after that event. His uncle the king of Achin having given him a rebuke on some occasion, he left his palace abruptly and fled to the king of Pidir, who received him with affection, and refused to send him back at the desire of the elder brother, or to offer any violence to a young prince whom their father loved. This was the occasion of an inveterate war which cost the lives of many thousand people. The nephew commanded the forces of Pidir, and for some time maintained the advantage, but these, at length seeing themselves much inferior in numbers to the army of Ali-Maghayat, refused to march, and the king was obliged to give him up, when he was conveyed to Achin and put in close confinement.
The new king, who took the name Ali Maghayat-shah, showed himself to be unfit to rule due to either laziness or lack of ability. He was always surrounded by women, who were not just his attendants but also his guards, and they carried weapons for that purpose. His activities mainly involved bathing and hunting, while state affairs were neglected to the point that murders, robberies, oppression, and countless other issues plagued the kingdom due to a lack of proper and strict justice. A son of Ala-eddin's daughter had been a favorite of his grandfather; at the time of the grandfather's death, he was twenty-three years old, and he continued to live at court with his mother after that event. When his uncle, the king of Achin, scolded him on one occasion, he abruptly left the palace and fled to the king of Pidir, who welcomed him and refused to send him back despite his elder brother's request, not willing to harm a young prince whom their father loved. This incident led to a long-lasting war that resulted in the deaths of many thousands of people. The nephew led the forces of Pidir and initially held the advantage, but eventually, seeing they were outnumbered by Ali Maghayat's army, they refused to advance, forcing the king to surrender him. He was then taken to Achin and placed in close confinement.
1606.
1606.
Not long afterwards a Portuguese squadron under Martin Alfonso, going to the relief of Malacca, then besieged by the Dutch, anchored in Achin road with the resolution of taking revenge on the king for receiving these their rivals into his ports, contrary to the stipulations of a treaty that had been entered into between them. The viceroy landed his men, who were opposed by a strong force on the part of the Achinese; but after a stout resistance they gained the first turf fort with two pieces of cannon, and commenced an attack upon the second, of masonry. In this critical juncture the young prince sent a message to his uncle requesting he might be permitted to join the army and expose himself in the ranks, declaring himself more willing to die in battle against the Kafers (so they always affected to call the Portuguese) than to languish like a slave in chains. The fears which operated upon the king's mind induced him to consent to his release. The prince showed so much bravery on this occasion, and conducted two or three attacks with such success that Alfonso was obliged to order a retreat, after wasting two days and losing three hundred men in this fruitless attempt. The reputation of the prince was raised by this affair to a high pitch amongst the people of Achin. His mother, who was an active, ambitious woman, formed the design of placing him on the throne, and furnished him with large sums of money, to be distributed in gratuities amongst the principal orang cayas. At the same time he endeavoured to ingratiate himself by his manners with all classes of people. To the rich he was courteous; to the poor he was affable; and he was the constant companion of those who were in the profession of arms. When the king had reigned between three and four years he died suddenly, and at the hour of his death the prince got access to the castle. He bribed the guards, made liberal promises to the officers, advanced a large sum of money to the governor, and sending for the chief priest obliged him by threats to crown him. In fine he managed the revolution so happily that he was proclaimed king before night, to the great joy of the people, who conceived vast hopes from his liberality, courtesy, and valour. The king of Pidir was speedily acquainted with the news of his brother's death, but not of the subsequent transactions, and came the next day to take possession of his inheritance. As he approached the castle with a small retinue he was seized by orders from the reigning prince, who, forgetting the favours he had received, kept him prisoner for a month, and then, sending him into the country under the pretence of a commodious retreat, had him murdered on the way. Those who put the crown on his head were not better requited; particularly the Maharaja, or governor of the castle. In a short time his disappointed subjects found that instead of being humane he was cruel; instead of being liberal he displayed extreme avarice, and instead of being affable he manifested a temper austere and inexorable.
Not long after, a Portuguese fleet led by Martin Alfonso, headed to help Malacca, which was under siege by the Dutch, anchored in Achin Bay with the intention of getting revenge on the king for allowing their rivals into his ports, violating a treaty between them. The viceroy sent his men ashore, where they faced a strong force from the Achinese. Despite tough resistance, they captured the first turf fort with two cannons and began an assault on the second, made of masonry. At this critical moment, the young prince sent a message to his uncle asking for permission to join the army and fight alongside them, stating he preferred to die in battle against the Kafers (as they called the Portuguese) rather than suffer like a slave in chains. Fearing for his own security, the king allowed his release. The prince demonstrated remarkable courage during this time and led two or three attacks with such success that Alfonso was forced to retreat, after wasting two days and losing three hundred men in this fruitless effort. The prince's reputation soared among the people of Achin due to this episode. His mother, a determined and ambitious woman, planned to place him on the throne and provided him with a large sum of money to distribute as rewards among the important orang cayas. Meanwhile, he tried to win over all segments of society with his charm. He was courteous to the wealthy, friendly to the poor, and often associated with those in the military. After the king had ruled for about three to four years, he died suddenly, and at the time of his death, the prince gained access to the castle. He bribed the guards, made generous promises to the officers, gave a substantial amount to the governor, and summoned the chief priest, using threats to compel him to crown him. Ultimately, he orchestrated the revolution so effectively that he was declared king before nightfall, much to the delight of the people, who had high hopes for his generosity, politeness, and bravery. The king of Pidir quickly learned about his brother’s death but not about the events that followed, and he arrived the next day to claim his inheritance. However, as he approached the castle with a small group, he was captured on orders of the new king, who, forgetting the favors he had received, imprisoned him for a month. Later, under the guise of a wise retreat, the prince had him killed along the way. Those who had crowned him did not fare any better, especially the Maharaja, or the governor of the castle. Soon enough, his disillusioned subjects discovered that instead of being kind, he was cruel; instead of being generous, he was extremely greedy; and instead of being friendly, he revealed a harsh and unforgiving demeanor.
This king, whom the Annals name Iskander Muda, was known to our travellers by the title of sultan Paduka Sri (words equivalent to most gracious), sovereign of Achin and of the countries of Aru, Dilli, Johor, Pahang, Kedah, and Perak on the one side, and of Barus, Pasaman, Tiku, Sileda, and Priaman on the other. Some of these places were conquered by him, and others he inherited.
This king, referred to in the Annals as Iskander Muda, was known to our travelers as Sultan Paduka Sri (a title meaning "most gracious"), ruler of Achin and the regions of Aru, Dilli, Johor, Pahang, Kedah, and Perak on one side, and Barus, Pasaman, Tiku, Sileda, and Priaman on the other. He conquered some of these places and inherited others.
1613.
1613.
He showed much friendship to the Hollanders in the early part of his reign; and in the year 1613 gave permission to the English to settle a factory, granting them many indulgences, in consequence of a letter and present from king James the first. He bestowed on Captain Best, who was the bearer of them, the title of orang kaya putih, and entertained him with the fighting of elephants, buffaloes, rams, and tigers. His answer to king James (a translation of which is to be found in Purchas) is couched in the most friendly terms, and he there styles himself king of all Sumatra. He expressed a strong desire that the king of England should send him one of his countrywomen to wife, and promised to make her eldest son king of all the pepper countries, that so the English might be supplied with that commodity by a monarch of their own nation. But notwithstanding his strong professions of attachment to us, and his natural connexion with the Hollanders, arising from their joint enmity to the Portuguese, it was not many years before he began to oppress both nations and use his endeavours to ruin their trade. He became jealous of their growing power, and particularly in consequence of intelligence that reached him concerning the encroachments made by the latter in the island of Java.
He showed a lot of friendliness to the Dutch in the early part of his reign; and in 1613, he allowed the English to set up a trading post, giving them several privileges due to a letter and gift from King James I. He granted Captain Best, who brought these gifts, the title of orang kaya putih and entertained him with matches of elephants, buffaloes, rams, and tigers. His reply to King James (a translation of which can be found in Purchas) was very friendly, and he referred to himself as the king of all Sumatra. He expressed a strong wish for King James to send him one of his countrywomen as a wife and promised to make her eldest son the king of all the pepper-producing regions, so that the English could get that resource from a monarch of their own nation. But despite his strong declarations of loyalty to us and his natural ties to the Dutch, based on their mutual enmity towards the Portuguese, it wasn't long before he started to oppress both nations and work to ruin their trade. He became jealous of their growing strength, especially after hearing about the Dutch encroachments on the island of Java.
The conquest of Aru seems never to have been thoroughly effected by the kings of Achin. Paduka Sri carried his arms thither and boasted of having obtained some victories.
The conquest of Aru seems to have never been fully achieved by the kings of Achin. Paduka Sri took his forces there and claimed to have secured some victories.
1613.
1613.
In 1613 he subdued Siak in its neighbourhood. Early in the same year he sent an expedition against the kingdom of Johor (which had always maintained a political connexion with Aru) and, reducing the city after a siege of twenty-nine days, plundered it of everything moveable, and made slaves of the miserable inhabitants. The king fled to the island of Bintang, but his youngest brother and coadjutor was taken prisoner and carried to Achin. The old king of Johor, who had so often engaged the Portuguese, left three sons, the eldest of whom succeeded him by the title of Iang de per-tuan.*
In 1613, he conquered Siak and the surrounding area. Earlier that year, he launched an expedition against the kingdom of Johor, which had always had a political connection with Aru. After a siege that lasted twenty-nine days, he captured the city, looted everything movable, and enslaved the unfortunate inhabitants. The king escaped to the island of Bintang, but his youngest brother and ally was taken prisoner and brought to Achin. The former king of Johor, who had frequently fought against the Portuguese, left behind three sons, the eldest of whom succeeded him with the title of Iang de per-tuan.*
(*Footnote. This is not an individual title or proper name, but signifies the sovereign or reigning monarch. In like manner Rega Bongsu signifies the king's youngest brother, as Raja Muda does the heir apparent.)
(*Footnote. This is not a personal title or proper name, but refers to the sovereign or ruling monarch. Similarly, Rega Bongsu denotes the king's youngest brother, just as Raja Muda refers to the heir apparent.)
The second was made king of Siak, and the third, called Raja Bongsu, reigned jointly with the first. He it was who assisted the Hollanders in the first siege of Malacca, and corresponded with Prince Maurice. The king of Achin was married to their sister, but this did not prevent a long and cruel war between them. A Dutch factory at Johor was involved in the consequences of this war, and several of that nation were among the prisoners. In the course of the same year however the king of Achin thought proper to establish Raja Bongsu on the throne of Johor, sending him back for that purpose with great honours, assisting him to rebuild the fort and city, and giving him one of his own sisters in marriage.
The second became the king of Siak, and the third, known as Raja Bongsu, ruled alongside the first. He was the one who aided the Dutch during the first siege of Malacca and communicated with Prince Maurice. The king of Achin was married to their sister, but that didn't stop a long and brutal war between them. A Dutch trading post in Johor was caught up in the aftermath of this conflict, and several Dutch nationals were among the captives. Later that same year, however, the king of Achin decided to place Raja Bongsu on the throne of Johor, sending him back with great honors, helping him to rebuild the fort and city, and marrying him to one of his own sisters.
1615.
1615.
In 1615 the king of Achin sailed to the attack of Malacca in a fleet which he had been four years employed in preparing. It consisted of above five hundred sail, of which a hundred were large galleys, greater than any at that time built in Europe, carrying each from six to eight hundred men, with three large cannon and several smaller pieces. These galleys the orang kayas were obliged to furnish, repair, and man, at the peril of their lives. The soldiers served without pay, and carried three months provision at their own charge. In this great fleet there were computed to be sixty thousand men, whom the king commanded in person. His wives and household were taken to sea with him. Coming in sight of the Portuguese ships in the afternoon, they received many shot from them but avoided returning any, as if from contempt. The next day they got ready for battle, and drew up in form of a half moon. A desperate engagement took place and lasted without intermission till midnight, during which the Portuguese admiral was three times boarded, and repeatedly on fire. Many vessels on both sides were also in flames and afforded light to continue the combat. At length the Achinese gave way, after losing fifty sail of different sizes, and twenty thousand men. They retired to Bancalis, on the eastern coast of Sumatra, and shortly afterwards sailed for Achin, the Portuguese not daring to pursue their victory, both on account of the damage they had sustained and their apprehension of the Hollanders, who were expected at Malacca. The king proposed that the prisoners taken should be mutually given up, which was agreed to, and was the first instance of that act of humanity and civilisation between the two powers.
In 1615, the king of Achin launched an attack on Malacca with a fleet he had been preparing for four years. It included over five hundred ships, with a hundred of them being large galleys, bigger than any built in Europe at that time. Each galley carried between six to eight hundred men, equipped with three large cannons and several smaller guns. The orang kayas had to provide, repair, and crew these galleys at the risk of their lives. The soldiers fought without pay and brought their own supplies for three months. The massive fleet was estimated to have sixty thousand men, led by the king himself, who brought his wives and household aboard. When they spotted the Portuguese ships in the afternoon, they were fired upon but refrained from returning fire, seemingly out of disdain. The next day, they prepared for battle and formed a half-moon shape. A fierce fight broke out and continued without pause until midnight, during which the Portuguese admiral was boarded three times and caught fire multiple times. Many ships on both sides burned, providing light for the ongoing battle. Ultimately, the Achinese retreated after losing fifty ships of various sizes and twenty thousand men. They fell back to Bancalis on the eastern coast of Sumatra and soon sailed back to Achin, with the Portuguese unwilling to chase after suffering significant damage and fearing the Dutch, who were expected to arrive at Malacca. The king proposed a mutual exchange of prisoners, which was agreed upon, marking the first instance of such an act of humanity and civility between the two powers.
1619.
1619.
Three years afterwards the king made a conquest of the cities of Kedah and Perak on the Malayan coast, and also of a place called Dilli in Sumatra. This last had been strongly fortified by the assistance of the Portuguese, and gave an opportunity of displaying much skill in the attack. Trenches were regularly opened before it and a siege carried on for six weeks ere it fell. In the same year the king of Jorcan (a place unknown at present by that name) fled for refuge to Malacca with eighty sail of boats, having been expelled his dominions by the king of Achin. The Portuguese were not in a condition to afford him relief, being themselves surrounded with enemies and fearful of an attack from the Achinese more especially; but the king was then making preparations against an invasion he heard was meditated by the viceroy of Goa. Reciprocal apprehensions kept each party on the defensive.
Three years later, the king conquered the cities of Kedah and Perak on the Malayan coast, as well as a place called Dilli in Sumatra. Dilli had been heavily fortified with help from the Portuguese, providing a chance to show off considerable skill in the attack. Trenches were dug, and a siege lasted for six weeks before it finally fell. That same year, the king of Jorcan (a place currently unknown by that name) fled to Malacca with eighty boats after being expelled from his territories by the king of Achin. The Portuguese were unable to help him, as they were surrounded by enemies and particularly worried about an attack from the Achinese. Meanwhile, the king was preparing for a possible invasion he had heard about from the viceroy of Goa. Mutual fears kept both sides on the defensive.
1621.
1621.
The French being desirous of participating in the commerce of Achin, of which all the European nations had formed great ideas, and all found themselves disappointed in, sent out a squadron commanded by General Beaulieu, which arrived in January 1621, and finally left it in December of the same year. He brought magnificent presents to the king, but these did not content his insatiable avarice, and he employed a variety of mean arts to draw from him further gifts. Beaulieu met also with many difficulties, and was forced to submit to much extortion in his endeavours to procure a loading of pepper, of which Achin itself, as has been observed, produced but little. The king informed him that he had some time since ordered all the plants to be destroyed, not only because the cultivation of them proved an injury to more useful agriculture, but also lest their produce might tempt the Europeans to serve him, as they had served the kings of Jakatra and Bantam. From this apprehension he had lately been induced to expel the English and Dutch from their settlements at Priaman and Tiku, where the principal quantity of pepper was procured, and of which places he changed the governor every third year to prevent any connexions dangerous to his authority from being formed. He had likewise driven the Dutch from a factory they were attempting to settle at Padang; which place appears to be the most remote on the western coast of the island to which the Achinese conquests at any time extended.
The French, eager to get involved in the trade of Achin, which all the European nations had high hopes for but ended up disappointed, sent a squadron led by General Beaulieu. This squadron arrived in January 1621 and departed in December of the same year. He brought impressive gifts for the king, but these didn't satisfy his endless greed, and he resorted to various low tactics to extract more gifts from him. Beaulieu also faced many challenges and had to endure considerable extortion in his efforts to secure a shipment of pepper, which, as noted, Achin itself produced very little of. The king informed him that he had previously ordered all the plants to be destroyed, not only because growing them was detrimental to more useful agriculture but also to prevent their yield from seducing Europeans into serving him, as they had with the kings of Jakatra and Bantam. Out of this concern, he had recently expelled the English and Dutch from their settlements at Priaman and Tiku, where most of the pepper was sourced, and he changed the governor there every three years to prevent any connections that could threaten his authority from forming. He had also driven the Dutch away from a trading post they attempted to establish at Padang, which seems to be the farthest point on the western coast of the island that Achinese conquests ever reached.
1628.
1628.
Still retaining a strong desire to possess himself of Malacca, so many years the grand object of Achinese ambition, he imprisoned the ambassador then at his court, and made extraordinary preparations for the siege, which he designed to undertake in person. The laksamana or commander in chief (who had effected all the king's late conquests) attempted to oppose this resolution; but the maharaja, willing to flatter his master's propensity, undertook to put him in possession of the city and had the command of the fleet given to him, as the other had of the land forces. The king set out on the expedition with a fleet of two hundred and fifty sail (fortyseven of them not less than a hundred feet in the keel), in which were twenty thousand men well appointed, and a great train of artillery. After being some time on board, with his family and retinue as usual, he determined, on account of an ill omen that was observed, to return to the shore. The generals, proceeding without him, soon arrived before Malacca. Having landed their men they made a judicious disposition, and began the attack with much courage and military skill. The Portuguese were obliged to abandon several of their posts, one of which, after a defence of fifty days, was levelled with the ground, and from its ruins strong works were raised by the laksamana. The maharaja had seized another post advantageously situated. From their several camps they had lines of communication, and the boats on the river were stationed in such a manner that the place was completely invested. Matters were in this posture when a force of two thousand men came to the assistance of the besieged from the king of Pahang, and likewise five sail of Portuguese vessels from the coast of Coromandel; but all was insufficient to remove so powerful an enemy, although by that time they had lost four thousand of their troops in the different attacks and skirmishes. In the latter end of the year a fleet of thirty sail of ships, large and small, under the command of Nunno Alvarez Botello, having on board nine hundred European soldiers, appeared off Malacca, and blocked up the fleet of Achin in a river about three miles from the town. This entirely altered the complexion of affairs. The besiegers retired from their advanced works and hastened to the defence of their galleys, erecting batteries by the side of the river. The maharaja being summoned to surrender returned a civil but resolute answer. In the night, endeavouring to make his escape with the smaller vessels through the midst of the Portuguese, he was repulsed and wounded. Next day the whole force of the Achinese dropped down the stream with a design to fight their way, but after an engagement of two hours their principal galley, named the Terror of the World, was boarded and taken, after losing five hundred men of seven which she carried. Many other vessels were afterwards captured or sunk. The laksamana hung out a white flag and sent to treat with Nunno, but, some difficulty arising about the terms, the engagement was renewed with great warmth. News was brought to the Portuguese that the maharaja was killed and that the king of Pahang was approaching with a hundred sail of vessels to reinforce them. Still the Achinese kept up a dreadful fire, which seemed to render the final success doubtful; but at length they sent proposals desiring only to be allowed three galleys of all their fleet to carry away four thousand men who remained of twenty that came before the town. It was answered that they must surrender at discretion; which the laksamana hesitating to do, a furious assault took place both by water and land upon his galleys and works, which were all effectually destroyed or captured, not a ship and scarcely a man escaping. He himself in the last extremity fled to the woods, but was seized ere long by the king of Pahang's scouts. Being brought before the governor he said to him, with an undaunted countenance, "Behold here the laksamana for the first time overcome!" He was treated with respect but kept a prisoner, and sent on his own famous ship to Goa in order to be from thence conveyed to Portugal: but death deprived his enemies of that distinguished ornament of their triumph.
Still holding a strong desire to take Malacca, long the main goal of Achinese ambition, he imprisoned the ambassador at his court and made extensive preparations for the siege, which he planned to lead himself. The laksamana, or commander in chief, who had achieved all the king's recent victories, tried to oppose this decision, but the maharaja, wanting to please his king, took on the task of capturing the city and was given command of the fleet, just as the laksamana commanded the land forces. The king set out on the expedition with a fleet of two hundred and fifty ships (forty-seven of which were at least a hundred feet long), carrying twenty thousand well-equipped men and a significant amount of artillery. After spending some time on board with his family and entourage as usual, he decided to return to shore due to a bad omen he had observed. The generals, proceeding without him, soon reached Malacca. After landing their troops, they made smart arrangements and began the attack with great bravery and military tactics. The Portuguese had to abandon several of their positions, one of which was destroyed after a fifty-day defense, and from its ruins, the laksamana built strong fortifications. The maharaja had captured another strategically located position. From their various camps, they established lines of communication, and the boats on the river were arranged so that the area was completely surrounded. Just then, a force of two thousand men arrived to assist the besieged from the king of Pahang, along with five Portuguese ships from the coast of Coromandel; however, this was insufficient to dislodge such a powerful enemy, even though by that time, they had lost four thousand troops in various attacks and skirmishes. Toward the end of the year, a fleet of thirty ships, both large and small, led by Nunno Alvarez Botello with nine hundred European soldiers on board, appeared off Malacca, trapping the Achinese fleet in a river about three miles from the town. This completely changed the situation. The besiegers withdrew from their advanced positions and hurried to defend their galleys, setting up cannons by the river. When the maharaja was asked to surrender, he responded politely but firmly. That night, trying to escape with the smaller vessels through the Portuguese forces, he was turned back and wounded. The next day, the entire Achinese fleet moved downstream intending to fight, but after two hours of battle, their main ship, named the Terror of the World, was boarded and taken, losing five hundred of its seven hundred crew. Many other vessels were later captured or sunk. The laksamana raised a white flag and sent a message to negotiate with Nunno, but when some disagreements arose over the terms, fighting reignited with great intensity. The Portuguese received news that the maharaja had been killed and that the king of Pahang was coming with a hundred ships to reinforce them. Still, the Achinese maintained a fierce barrage, making the outcome uncertain; however, they eventually sent proposals asking only for three galleys from their fleet to carry away the four thousand men who remained from the original twenty that had come to the town. They were told that they must surrender unconditionally; as the laksamana hesitated, a furious assault commenced from both water and land on his galleys and positions, which were all effectively destroyed or captured, with hardly a ship and barely a man escaping. In the end, he fled into the woods, but was soon captured by scouts from the king of Pahang. When brought before the governor, he said with a fearless expression, "Here is the laksamana, defeated for the first time!" He was treated with respect but kept as a prisoner and sent on his renowned ship to Goa to be taken to Portugal; however, death denied his enemies the chance to parade that notable prize as part of their victory.
1635.
1635.
This signal defeat proved so important a blow to the power of Achin that we read of no further attempts to renew the war until the year 1635, when the king, encouraged by the feuds which at this time prevailed in Malacca, again violated the law of nations, to him little known, by imprisoning their ambassador, and caused all the Portuguese about his court to be murdered. No military operations however immediately took place in consequence of this barbarous proceeding.
This major defeat dealt a significant blow to Achin's power, and we hear of no further attempts to restart the war until 1635, when the king, motivated by the conflicts happening in Malacca at that time, once again disregarded international law, which he barely understood, by imprisoning their ambassador and orchestrating the murder of all the Portuguese at his court. However, no military actions followed this brutal act.
1640. 1641.
1640. 1641.
In the year 1640 the Dutch with twelve men of war, and the king of Achin with twenty-five galleys, appeared before that harassed and devoted city; which at length, in the following year was wrested from the hands of the Portuguese, who had so long, through such difficulties, maintained possession of it. This year was also marked by the death of the sultan, whom the Dutch writers name Paduka Sri, at the age of sixty, after a reign of thirty-five years; having just lived to see his hereditary foe subdued; and as if the opposition of the Portuguese power, which seems first to have occasioned the rise of that of Achin, was also necessary to its existence, the splendour and consequence of the kingdom from that period rapidly declined.
In 1640, the Dutch, with twelve warships, and the king of Achin, with twenty-five galleys, confronted that troubled and devoted city. Finally, in the following year, it was taken from the Portuguese, who had held onto it despite many challenges for a long time. This year also saw the death of the sultan, referred to by the Dutch writers as Paduka Sri, who died at sixty after a thirty-five-year reign; he had just lived to see his long-time enemy defeated. It was as if the Portuguese opposition, which initially helped Achin rise, was also essential to its survival, and after that point, the kingdom's splendor and significance quickly declined.
The prodigious wealth and resources of the monarchy during his reign are best evinced by the expeditions he was enabled to fit out; but being no less covetous than ambitious he contrived to make the expenses fall upon his subjects, and at the same time filled his treasury with gold by pressing the merchants and plundering the neighbouring states. An intelligent person (General Beaulieu), who was for some time at his court, and had opportunities of information on the subject, uses this strong expression--that he was infinitely rich. He constantly employed in his castle three hundred goldsmiths. This would seem an exaggeration, but that it is well known the Malayan princes have them always about them in great numbers at this day, working in the manufacture of filigree, for which the country is so famous. His naval strength has been already sufficiently described. He was possessed of two thousand brass guns and small arms in proportion. His trained elephants amounted to some hundreds. His armies were probably raised only upon the occasion which called for their acting, and that in a mode similar to what was established under the feudal system in Europe. The valley of Achin alone was said to be able to furnish forty thousand men upon an emergency. A certain number of warriors however were always kept on foot for the protection of the king and his capital. Of these the superior class were called ulubalang, and the inferior amba-raja, who were entirely devoted to his service and resembled the janizaries of Constantinople. Two hundred horsemen nightly patrolled the grounds about the castle, the inner courts and apartments of which were guarded by three thousand women. The king's eunuchs amounted to five hundred.
The immense wealth and resources of the monarchy during his reign are most clearly shown by the expeditions he was able to organize; however, his greed matched his ambition, so he arranged for the costs to fall on his subjects while simultaneously filling his treasury with gold by taxing merchants and looting neighboring states. An insightful person (General Beaulieu), who spent some time at his court and had plenty of information on the topic, described him as incredibly rich. He continuously employed three hundred goldsmiths in his castle. This might sound like an exaggeration, but it is well known that Malayan princes currently have many goldsmiths with them, working on the famous filigree for which the country is renowned. His naval power has already been adequately described. He had two thousand brass cannons and an appropriate number of small arms. He also had several hundred trained elephants. His armies were likely raised only when needed, similar to the feudal system in Europe. The valley of Achin alone was said to be able to provide forty thousand men in an emergency. However, a certain number of warriors were always on duty for the protection of the king and his capital. The elite were called ulubalang, while the lower class were ama-raja, who were completely dedicated to his service and resembled the janizaries of Constantinople. Two hundred horsemen patrolled the grounds around the castle at night, and the inner courtyards and apartments were guarded by three thousand women. The king had five hundred eunuchs.
The disposition of this monarch was cruel and sanguinary. A multitude of instances are recorded of the horrible barbarity of his punishments, and for the most trivial offences. He imprisoned his own mother and put her to the torture, suspecting her to have been engaged in a conspiracy against him with some of the principal nobles, whom he caused to be executed. He murdered his nephew, the king of Johor's son, of whose favour with his mother he was jealous. He also put to death a son of the king of Bantam, and another of the king of Pahang, who were both his near relations. None of the royal family survived in 1622 but his own son, a youth of eighteen, who had been thrice banished the court, and was thought to owe his continuance in life only to his surpassing his father, if possible, in cruelty, and being hated by all ranks of people. He was at one time made king of Pidir but recalled on account of his excesses, confined in prison and put to strange tortures by his father, whom he did not outlive. The whole territory of Achin was almost depopulated by wars, executions, and oppression. The king endeavoured to repeople the country by his conquests. Having ravaged the kingdoms of Johor, Pahang, Kedah, Perak, and Dilli, he transported the inhabitants from those places to Achin, to the number of twenty-two thousand persons. But this barbarous policy did not produce the effect he hoped; for the unhappy people, being brought naked to his dominions, and not allowed any kind of maintenance on their arrival, died of hunger in the streets. In the planning his military enterprises he was generally guided by the distresses of his neighbours, for whom, as for his prey, he unceasingly lay in wait; and his preparatory measures were taken with such secrecy that the execution alone unravelled them. Insidious political craft and wanton delight in blood united in him to complete the character of a tyrant.
The nature of this king was cruel and bloodthirsty. Numerous accounts document the horrific brutality of his punishments for even the slightest offenses. He imprisoned his own mother and tortured her, suspecting she had conspired against him with some of the leading nobles, whom he executed. He murdered his nephew, the son of the king of Johor, out of jealousy over his mother’s favor. He also killed a son of the king of Bantam and another son of the king of Pahang, both of whom were close relatives. By 1622, the only member of the royal family left alive was his own eighteen-year-old son, who had been banished from court three times and was believed to have survived only because he was even more cruel than his father, earning the hatred of all social classes. He was made king of Pidir at one point but was called back due to his excesses, imprisoned, and subjected to strange tortures by his father, whom he did not outlive. The entire area of Achin was nearly depopulated by wars, executions, and oppression. The king tried to repopulate the region through his conquests. After devastating the kingdoms of Johor, Pahang, Kedah, Perak, and Dilli, he forcibly relocated twenty-two thousand people from those areas to Achin. However, this brutal strategy did not achieve the desired outcome; the unfortunate people arrived naked and were not given any resources, leading them to die of starvation in the streets. In planning his military actions, he was usually driven by the suffering of his neighbors, whom he constantly eyed as potential victims. His preparations were conducted with such secrecy that only the execution revealed his plans. Deceitful political maneuvering and a reckless enjoyment of bloodshed combined in him to epitomize the character of a tyrant.
It must here be observed that, with respect to the period of this remarkable reign, the European and Malayan authorities are considerably at variance, the latter assigning to it something less than thirty solar years, and placing the death of Iskander Muda in December 1636. The Annals further state that he was succeeded by sultan Ala-eddinMahayat-shah, who reigned only about four years and died in February 1641. That this is the more accurate account I have no hesitation in believing, although Valentyn, who gives a detail of the king's magnificent funeral, was persuaded that the reign which ended in 1641 was the same that began in 1607. But he collected his information eighty years after the event, and as it does not appear that any European whose journal has been given to the world was on the spot at that period, the death of an obscure monarch who died after a short reign may well have been confounded by persons at a distance with that of his more celebrated predecessor. Both authorities however are agreed in the important fact that the successor to the throne in 1641 was a female. This person is described by Valentyn as being the wife of the old king, and not his daughter, as by some had been asserted; but from the Annals it appears that she was his daughter, named Taju al-alum; and as it was in her right that Maghayat-shah (certainly her husband), obtained the crown, so upon his decease, there being no male heir, she peaceably succeeded him in the government, and became the first queen regent of Achin. The succession having thenceforward continued nearly sixty years in the female line, this may be regarded as a new era in the history of the country. The nobles finding their power less restrained, and their individual consequence more felt under an administration of this kind than when ruled by kings (as sometimes they were with a rod of iron) supported these pageants, whom they governed as they thought fit, and thereby virtually changed the constitution into an aristocracy or oligarchy. The business of the state was managed by twelve orang-kayas, four of whom were superior to the rest, and among these the maharaja, or governor of the kingdom, was considered as the chief. It does not appear, nor is it probable, that the queen had the power of appointing or removing any of these great officers. No applications were made to the throne but in their presence, nor any public resolution taken but as they determined in council. The great object of their political jealousy seems to have been the pretensions of the king of Johor to the crown, in virtue of repeated intermarriages between the royal families of the two countries, and it may be presumed that the alarms excited from that quarter materially contributed to reconcile them to the female domination. They are accordingly said to have formed an engagement amongst themselves never to pay obedience to a foreign prince, nor to allow their royal mistress to contract any marriage that might eventually lead to such a consequence.* At the same time, by a new treaty with Johor, its king was indirectly excused from the homage to the crown of Achin which had been insisted upon by her predecessors and was the occasion of frequent wars.
It should be noted that regarding the duration of this notable reign, European and Malayan accounts differ significantly. The latter records it as being just under thirty years, stating that Iskander Muda died in December 1636. The Annals mention that he was succeeded by Sultan Ala-eddin Mahayat-shah, who ruled for about four years and died in February 1641. I firmly believe this is the more accurate account, even though Valentyn, who described the king's grand funeral, was convinced that the reign ending in 1641 started in 1607. However, he gathered his information eighty years after the event, and since there doesn't seem to be any European whose records from that time have been published, the death of a lesser-known king after a brief rule might have been confused by distant observers with that of his more famous predecessor. Both accounts do agree on the crucial point that the successor to the throne in 1641 was a woman. Valentyn describes her as the old king’s wife, not his daughter, as some claimed; however, the Annals indicate that she was indeed his daughter, named Taju al-alum. Since it was through her right that Maghayat-shah (certainly her husband) acquired the crown, she peacefully succeeded him in governing after his death, becoming the first queen regent of Achin. This marked the beginning of a new era in the country’s history, as the succession continued in the female line for nearly sixty years. The nobles found their power less limited and their influence more significant under this kind of administration than when ruled by kings (who occasionally ruled with an iron fist), allowing them to support these rulers while effectively managing as they pleased, transforming the governance into an aristocracy or oligarchy. The state's affairs were overseen by twelve orang-kayas, four of whom were superior, with the maharaja, or governor of the kingdom, recognized as the leader. It doesn't seem likely that the queen had the power to appoint or dismiss any of these high officials. No requests were made to the throne without their presence, nor were any public decisions taken without their council’s consent. Their main political concern seemed to be the claims of the king of Johor to the crown, due to multiple intermarriages between their royal families. It can be assumed that this threat helped them accept female rule. They reportedly agreed among themselves never to submit to a foreign prince or allow their royal mistress to marry someone who might lead to such a situation.* At the same time, through a new treaty with Johor, its king was indirectly released from the allegiance to the Achin crown that her predecessors had insisted upon, which often led to wars.
(*Footnote. However fanciful it may be thought, I cannot doubt that the example of our Queen Elizabeth, whose character and government were highly popular with the Achinese on account of her triumphant contest with the united powers of Spain and Portugal, had a strong influence in the establishment of this new species of monarchy, and that the example of her sister's marriage with Philip may have contributed to the resolution taken by the nobles. The actions of our illustrious queen were a common topic of conversation between the old tyrant and Sir James Lancaster.)
(*Footnote. No matter how fanciful it may seem, I truly believe that the example of our Queen Elizabeth, whose character and leadership were very popular with the Achinese due to her victorious struggle against the combined forces of Spain and Portugal, significantly influenced the creation of this new type of monarchy. Additionally, the example of her sister’s marriage to Philip may have played a role in the decision made by the nobles. The deeds of our remarkable queen were a frequent topic of discussion between the old tyrant and Sir James Lancaster.)
In proportion as the political consequence of the kingdom declined, its history, as noticed by foreigners, becomes obscure. Little is recorded of the transactions of her reign, and it is likely that Achin took no active part in the concerns of neighbouring powers, but suffered the Hollanders, who maintained in general a friendly intercourse with her, to remain in quiet possession of Malacca.
As the political significance of the kingdom declined, its history, as observed by outsiders, became unclear. Not much is documented about her reign, and it seems that Achin did not actively engage in the affairs of neighboring countries but allowed the Dutch, who generally had a friendly relationship with her, to remain in peaceful control of Malacca.
1643.
1643.
In 1643 they sent an ambassador to compliment her upon her accession, and at the same time to solicit payment for a quantity of valuable jewels ordered by the deceased king, but for the amount of which she declined to make herself responsible.
In 1643, they sent an ambassador to congratulate her on her rise to power, while also asking for payment for a number of valuable jewels that the late king had ordered, but she refused to take responsibility for the cost.
1660.
1660.
It is said (but the fact will admit of much doubt) that in 1660 she was inclined to marry one of their countrymen, and would have carried her design into execution had not the East India Company prevented by their authority a connexion that might, as they prudently judged, be productive of embarrassment to their affairs.
It is said (but the fact is questionable) that in 1660 she was thinking about marrying one of their countrymen, and would have gone through with it if the East India Company hadn't stopped her with their authority, believing that this connection could lead to complications for their business.
1664.
1664.
The Dutch however complain that she gave assistance to their enemies the people of Perak, and in 1664 it was found necessary to send a squadron under the command of Pieter de Bitter to bring her to reason. As it happened that she was at this time at war with some of her own dependants he made himself master of several places on the western coast that were nominally at least belonging to Achin.
The Dutch, however, complained that she helped their enemies, the people of Perak, and in 1664, it became necessary to send a squad under the command of Pieter de Bitter to bring her to reason. Since she was at war with some of her own subjects at the time, he took control of several places on the western coast that were at least nominally under Achin's authority.
1666.
1666.
About 1666 the English establishments at Achin and some ports to the southward appear to have given considerable umbrage to their rivals.
About 1666, the English settlements at Achin and several ports to the south seemed to have caused significant annoyance to their competitors.
1669.
1669.
In 1669 the people of Dilli on the north-eastern coast threw off their allegiance, and the power of the kingdom became gradually more and more circumscribed.
In 1669, the people of Dilli on the northeastern coast broke away from their allegiance, and the power of the kingdom gradually became more and more limited.
1675.
1675.
This queen died in 1675, after reigning, with a degree of tranquillity little known in these countries, upwards of thirty-four years.
This queen passed away in 1675, having ruled for over thirty-four years with a level of peace that is rarely seen in these regions.
The people being now accustomed and reconciled to female rule, which they found more lenient than that of their kings, acquiesced in general in the established mode of government.
The people were now used to and accepted female leadership, which they found to be more compassionate than that of their kings, and they generally accepted the current system of government.
1677.
1677.
And she was immediately succeeded by another female monarch, named Nur al-alum, who reigned little more than two years and died in 1677.
And she was quickly followed by another female ruler, named Nur al-alum, who ruled for just over two years before she passed away in 1677.
The queen who succeeded her was named Anayet-shah.
The queen who followed her was named Anayet-shah.
1684.
1684.
In the year 1684 she received an embassy from the English government of Madras, and appeared at that time to be about forty years. The persons who were on this occasion presented to her express their suspicions, which were suggested to them by a doubt prevailing amongst the inhabitants, that this sovereign was not a real queen, but a eunuch dressed up in female apparel, and imposed on the public by the artifices of the orang kayas. But as such a cheat, though managed with every semblance of reality (which they observe was the case) could not be carried on for any number of years without detection, and as the same idea does not appear to have been entertained at any other period, it is probable they were mistaken in their surmise. Her person they describe to have been large, and her voice surprisingly strong, but not manly.*
In 1684, she received a delegation from the English government of Madras and seemed to be around forty years old at the time. The people who presented themselves to her expressed their suspicions, fueled by doubts among the locals, that this ruler was not a real queen but rather a eunuch disguised in women's clothing, misled by the tricks of the orang kayas. However, such a deception, even if convincingly executed (which they noted was the case), couldn't last for many years without being discovered, and since this idea doesn’t seem to have been suggested at any other time, it’s likely they were mistaken in their assumption. They described her as large in stature and remarkably strong voice, though not manly.
(*Footnote. The following curious passage is extracted from the journal of these gentlemen's proceedings. "We went to give our attendance at the palace this day as customary. Being arrived at the place of audience with the orang cayos, the queen was pleased to order us to come nearer, when her majesty was very inquisitive into the use of our wearing periwigs, and what was the convenience of them; to all which we returned satisfactory answers. After this her majesty desired of Mr. Ord, if it were no affront to him, that he would take off his periwig, that she might see how he appeared without it; which, according to her majesty's request, he did. She then told us she had heard of our business, and would give her answer by the orang cayos; and so we retired." I venture, with submission, to observe that this anecdote seems to put the question of the sex beyond controversy.)
(*Footnote. The following interesting passage is taken from the journal of these gentlemen's activities. "We went to attend the palace today as usual. Upon arriving at the audience with the orang cayos, the queen kindly asked us to come closer and was very curious about why we wore periwigs and what their purpose was; to which we provided satisfactory answers. After this, her majesty asked Mr. Ord, if it wasn't too much trouble, to take off his periwig so she could see how he looked without it; which he did at her request. She then informed us that she had heard about our matter and would give her answer through the orang cayos; and so we left." I respectfully note that this anecdote seems to clarify the question of the gender beyond doubt.)
The purport of the embassy was to obtain liberty to erect a fortification in her territory, which she peremptorily refused, being contrary to the established rules of the kingdom; adding that if the governor of Madras would fill her palace with gold she could not permit him to build with brick either fort or house. To have a factory of timber and plank was the utmost indulgence that could be allowed; and on that footing the return of the English, who had not traded there for many years, should be welcomed with great friendship. The queen herself, the orang kayas represented, was not allowed to fortify lest some foreign power might avail themselves of it to enslave the country. In the course of these negotiations it was mentioned that the agriculture of Achin had suffered considerably of late years by reason of a general licence given to all the inhabitants to search for gold in the mountains and rivers which afforded that article; whereas the business had formerly been restricted to certain authorized persons, and the rest obliged to till the ground.
The purpose of the embassy was to gain permission to build a fort on her land, which she firmly denied, as it went against the kingdom's established rules. She added that even if the governor of Madras filled her palace with gold, she still wouldn’t allow him to construct either a fort or a house with bricks. The most she could allow was a timber and plank factory, and under that condition, the English, who hadn't traded there for many years, would be welcomed back with open arms. The queen herself, the orang kayas said, was not permitted to fortify the area to prevent any foreign power from using it to take over the country. During these discussions, it was noted that agriculture in Achin had suffered quite a bit in recent years due to a general license granted to all residents to search for gold in the mountains and rivers, which used to be a privilege only for certain authorized individuals, while everyone else was required to farm the land.
1684.
1684.
The court feared to give a public sanction for the settlement of the English on any part of the southern coast lest it should embroil them with the other European powers.*
The court was hesitant to publicly approve the settlement of the English on any part of the southern coast, worried it might create conflicts with other European powers.*
(*Footnote. The design of settling a factory at this period in the dominions of Achin was occasioned by the recent loss of our establishment at Bantam, which had been originally fixed by Sir James Lancaster in 1603. The circumstances of this event were as follows. The old sultan had thought proper to share the regal power with his son in the year 1677, and this measure was attended with the obvious effect of a jealousy between the parent and child, which soon broke forth into open hostilities. The policy of the Dutch led them to take an active part in favour of the young sultan, who had inclined most to their interests and now solicited their aid. The English on the other hand discouraged what appeared to them an unnatural rebellion, but without interfering, as they said, in any other character than that of mediators, or affording military assistance to either party; and which their extreme weakness rather than their assertions renders probable. On the twenty-eighth of March 1682 the Dutch landed a considerable force from Batavia, and soon terminated the war. They placed the young sultan on the throne, delivering the father into his custody, and obtained from him in return for these favours an exclusive privilege of trade in his territories; which was evidently the sole object they had in view. On the first day of April possession was taken of the English factory by a party of Dutch and country soldiers, and on the twelfth the agent and council were obliged to embark with their property on vessels provided for the purpose, which carried them to Batavia. From thence they proceeded to Surat on the twenty-second of August in the following year.
(*Footnote. The decision to establish a factory during this time in the Achin territory was prompted by the recent loss of our establishment at Bantam, which was originally set up by Sir James Lancaster in 1603. Here are the details of that event. In 1677, the old sultan decided to share his royal power with his son, leading to obvious jealousy between them that quickly escalated into open conflict. The Dutch, pursuing their own interests, supported the young sultan, who leaned more toward them and sought their assistance. The English, on the other hand, opposed what they saw as an unnatural rebellion but refrained from interfering, claiming to act only as mediators and not to provide military support to either side; a stance made plausible by their own weakness rather than their claims. On March 28, 1682, the Dutch landed a significant force from Batavia and swiftly ended the war. They placed the young sultan on the throne, taking the father into custody, and in return, they secured exclusive trading rights in his territories, which was clearly their main objective. On April 1, a group of Dutch soldiers and local troops took possession of the English factory, and by April 12, the agent and council were forced to leave with their belongings on ships provided for that purpose, which took them to Batavia. From there, they traveled to Surat on August 22 of the following year.
In order to retain a share in the pepper-trade the English turned their thoughts towards Achin, and a deputation, consisting of two gentlemen, of the names of Old and Cawley, was sent thither in 1684; the success of which is above related. It happened that at this time certain Rajas or chiefs of the country of Priaman and other places on the west coast of Sumatra were at Achin also to solicit aid of that court against the Dutch, who had made war upon and otherwise molested them. These immediately applied to Mr. Ord, expressing a strong desire that the English should settle in their respective districts, offering ground for a fort and the exclusive purchase of their pepper. They consented to embark for Madras, where an agreement was formed with them by the governor in the beginning of the year 1685 on the terms they had proposed. In consequence of this an expedition was fitted out with the design of establishing a settlement at Priaman; but a day or two before the ships sailed an invitation to the like purport was received from the chiefs of Bangkaulu (since corruptly called Bencoolen); and as it was known that a considerable proportion of the pepper that used to be exported from Bantam had been collected from the neighbourhood of Bencoolen (at a place called Silebar), it was judged advisable that Mr. Ord, who was the person entrusted with the management of this business, should first proceed thither; particularly as at that season of the year it was the windward port. He arrived there on the twenty-fifth day of June 1685, and, after taking possession of the country assigned to the English Company, and leaving Mr. Broome in charge of the place, he sailed for the purpose of establishing the other settlements. He stopped first at Indrapura, where he found three Englishmen who were left of a small factory that had been some time before settled there by a man of the name of Du Jardin. Here he learned that the Dutch, having obtained a knowledge of the original intention of our fixing at Priaman, had anticipated us therein and sent a party to occupy the situation. In the meantime it was understood in Europe that this place was the chief of our establishments on the coast, and ships were accordingly consigned thither. The same was supposed at Madras, and troops and stores were sent to reinforce it, which were afterwards landed at Indrapura. A settlement was then formed at Manjuta, and another attempted at Batang-kapas in 1686; but here the Dutch, assisted by a party amongst the natives, assaulted and drove out our people. Every possible opposition, as it was natural to expect, was given by these our rivals to the success of our factories. They fixed themselves in the neighbourhood of them and endeavoured to obstruct the country people from carrying pepper to them or supplying them with provisions either by sea or land. Our interests however in the end prevailed, and Bencoolen in particular, to which the other places were rendered subordinate in 1686, began to acquire some degree of vigour and respectability. In 1689 encouragement was given to Chinese colonists to settle there, whose number has been continually increasing from that time. In 1691 the Dutch felt the loss of their influence at Silebar and other of the southern countries, where they attempted to exert authority in the name of the sultan of Bantam, and the produce of these places was delivered to the English. This revolution proceeded from the works with which about this time our factory was strengthened. In 1695 a settlement was made at Triamang, and two years after at Kattaun and Sablat. The first, in the year 1700, was removed to Bantal. Various applications were made by the natives in different parts of the island for the establishment of factories, particularly from Ayer-Bangis to the northward, Palembang on the eastern side, and the people from the countries south of Tallo, near Manna. A person was sent to survey these last, as far as Pulo Pisang and Kroi, in 1715. In consequence of the inconvenience attending the shipping of goods from Bencoolen River, which is often impracticable from the surfs, a warehouse was built in 1701 at a place then called the cove; which gave the first idea of removing the settlement to the point of land which forms the bay of Bencoolen. The unhealthiness of the old situation was thought to render this an expedient step; and accordingly about 1714 it was in great measure relinquished, and the foundations of Fort Marlborough were laid on a spot two or three miles distant. Being a high plain it was judged to possess considerable advantages; many of which however are counterbalanced by its want of the vicinity of a river, so necessary for the ready and plentiful supply of provisions. Some progress had been made in the erection of this fort when an accident happened that had nearly destroyed the Company's views. The natives incensed at ill treatment received from the Europeans, who were then but little versed in the knowledge of their dispositions or the art of managing them by conciliating methods, rose in a body in the year 1719, and forced the garrison, whose ignorant fears rendered them precipitate, to seek refuge on board their ships. These people began now to feel alarms lest the Dutch, taking advantage of the absence of the English, should attempt an establishment, and soon permitted some persons from the northern factories to resettle the place; and, supplies arriving from Madras, things returned to their former course, and the fort was completed. The Company's affairs on this coast remained in tranquillity for a number of years. The important settlement of Natal was established in 1752, and that of Tappanuli a short time afterwards; which involved the English in fresh disputes with the Dutch, who set up a claim to the country in which they are situated. In the year 1760 the French under Comte d'Estaing destroyed all the English settlements on the coast of Sumatra; but they were soon reestablished and our possession secured by the treaty of Paris in 1763. Fort Marlborough, which had been hitherto a peculiar subordinate of Fort St. George, was now formed into an independent presidency, and was furnished with a charter for erecting a mayor's court, but which has never been enforced. In 1781 a detachment of military from thence embarked upon five East India ships and took possession of Padang and all other Dutch factories in consequence of the war with that nation. In 1782 the magazine of Fort Marlborough, in which were four hundred barrels of powder, was fired by lightning and blew up; but providentially few lives were lost. In 1802 an act of parliament was passed "to authorize the East India Company to make their settlement at Fort Marlborough in the East Indies, a factory subordinate to the presidency of Fort William in Bengal, and to transfer the servants who on the reduction of that establishment shall be supernumerary, to the presidency of Fort St. George." In 1798 plants of the nutmeg and clove had for the first time been procured from the Moluccas; and in 1803 a large importation of these valuable articles of cultivation took place. As the plantations were, by the last accounts from thence, in the most flourishing state, very important commercial advantages were expected to be derived from the culture.)
To maintain a stake in the pepper trade, the English focused on Achin and sent a delegation of two gentlemen, Old and Cawley, there in 1684; the outcome of which is detailed above. During this time, some local Rajas or chiefs from Priaman and other areas on the west coast of Sumatra were also at Achin seeking support against the Dutch, who had waged war on them and caused them troubles. They approached Mr. Ord, expressing a strong wish for the English to establish themselves in their territories, offering land for a fort and exclusive rights to purchase their pepper. They agreed to sail to Madras, where the governor reached an agreement with them at the beginning of 1685 based on their terms. Consequently, an expedition was organized to set up a settlement at Priaman; however, just a day or two before the ships set sail, an invitation with a similar intent was received from the chiefs of Bangkaulu (now commonly referred to as Bencoolen). Since it was known that a significant amount of the pepper previously exported from Bantam came from near Bencoolen (specifically from a place called Silebar), it was deemed wise for Mr. Ord, who was in charge of this initiative, to head there first, especially since it was the windward port at that time of year. He arrived on June 25, 1685, took possession of the land assigned to the English Company, and left Mr. Broome in charge before setting off to establish other settlements. He first stopped at Indrapura, where he encountered three Englishmen who remained from a small factory that had been established there earlier by someone named Du Jardin. Here, he learned that the Dutch, having discovered the original plan for our settlement at Priaman, had preemptively sent a group to claim that spot. Meanwhile, it was understood in Europe that this location was our main establishment on the coast, prompting ships to be directed there. The same assumption was made in Madras, leading to troops and supplies being sent to reinforce it, which were later unloaded at Indrapura. A settlement was then established at Manjuta, and another attempted at Batang-kapas in 1686; however, here the Dutch, aided by some of the locals, attacked and expelled our people. Unsurprisingly, great opposition was faced from these rivals to the success of our factories. They set up nearby and tried to prevent local farmers from bringing pepper to us or supplying provisions by sea or land. Our interests ultimately prevailed, and Bencoolen in particular, to which the other regions were subordinated in 1686, began to gain strength and credibility. In 1689, Chinese settlers were encouraged to move there, and their numbers have been growing steadily since. In 1691, the Dutch noticed a decline in their influence at Silebar and other southern regions, where they had attempted to assert authority in the name of the sultan of Bantam, resulting in those resources being delivered to the English. This shift came about due to the enhancements being made at that time to our factory. In 1695, a settlement was established at Triamang, and two years later at Kattaun and Sablat. The first was relocated to Bantal in 1700. Various requests came from the locals in different parts of the island for the establishment of factories, particularly from Ayer-Bangis to the north, Palembang on the east side, and people from areas south of Tallo, near Manna. An individual was sent to survey these latter areas, including Pulo Pisang and Kroi, in 1715. Due to the challenges of shipping goods from Bencoolen River, which is often unmanageable because of the waves, a warehouse was constructed in 1701 at a place then known as the cove; this sparked the idea of relocating the settlement to the point of land forming the bay of Bencoolen. The unhealthiness of the old site was thought to make this a reasonable step; thus, around 1714, it was largely abandoned, and the foundations of Fort Marlborough were laid two or three miles away. Given that it was on a high plain, it was believed to have considerable advantages; however, many of those were offset by the lack of a nearby river, which was essential for the easy and ample supply of provisions. Some progress was made in building this fort when an incident nearly derailed the Company’s plans. In 1719, natives enraged by poor treatment from Europeans, who were then still inexperienced in understanding their mindset or managing relations through conciliatory approaches, rose up en masse, forcing the garrison, whose panic led them to rush, to seek safety on their ships. The locals now feared that the Dutch, seizing the chance while the English were absent, might try to establish themselves. Shortly thereafter, they allowed some individuals from the northern factories to return to the area; with supplies arriving from Madras, things returned to normal, and the fort was completed. The Company’s operations on this coast remained peaceful for several years. The significant settlement of Natal was founded in 1752, followed shortly by Tappanuli; this led to new disputes with the Dutch, who claimed the territory. In 1760, the French under Comte d'Estaing destroyed all English settlements on the coast of Sumatra; however, they were quickly reestablished, and our claims were secured by the Treaty of Paris in 1763. Fort Marlborough, which had previously been a subordinate of Fort St. George, was now created into an independent presidency and given a charter for establishing a mayor's court, although this has never been enacted. In 1781, a military detachment from there boarded five East India ships and took control of Padang and all other Dutch factories due to the war with that nation. In 1782, lightning struck the magazine of Fort Marlborough, where four hundred barrels of powder were stored, causing an explosion; fortunately, few lives were lost. In 1802, an act of parliament was passed "to authorize the East India Company to make their settlement at Fort Marlborough in the East Indies a factory subordinate to the presidency of Fort William in Bengal, and to transfer the servants who, upon the reduction of that establishment, shall be excess, to the presidency of Fort St. George." In 1798, nutmeg and clove plants were acquired from the Moluccas for the first time; and in 1803, a significant importation of these valuable cultivation products occurred. As the plantations, according to the latest reports, were thriving, considerable commercial benefits were anticipated from their cultivation.
A few years before these transactions she had invited the king of Siam to renew the ancient connexion between their respective states, and to unite in a league against the Dutch, by whose encroachments the commerce of her subjects and the extent of her dominions were much circumscribed. It does not appear however that this overture was attended with any effect, nor have the limits of the Achinese jurisdiction since that period extended beyond Pidir on the northern, and Barus on the western coast.
A few years before these transactions, she had invited the king of Siam to restore the old connection between their countries and to form an alliance against the Dutch, whose encroachments had greatly restricted her subjects' trade and her territories. However, it doesn't seem that this initiative had any impact, and since then, the boundaries of Achinese control have not gone beyond Pidir to the north and Barus to the west.
1688.
1688.
She died in 1688, having reigned something less than eleven years, and was succeeded by a young queen named Kamalat-shah; but this did not take place without a strong opposition from a faction amongst the orang kayas which wanted to set up a king, and a civil war actually commenced. The two parties drew up their forces on opposite sides of the river, and for two or three nights continued to fire at each other, but in the daytime followed their ordinary occupations. These opportunities of intercourse made them sensible of their mutual folly. They agreed to throw aside their arms and the crown remained in possession of the newly elected queen. It was said to have been esteemed essential that she should be a maiden, advanced in years, and connected by blood with the ancient royal line. In this reign an English factory, which had been long discontinued, was reestablished at Achin, but in the interval some private traders of this nation had always resided on the spot. These usually endeavoured to persuade the state that they represented the India Company, and sometimes acquired great influence, which they are accused of having employed in a manner not only detrimental to that body but to the interests of the merchants of India in general by monopolizing the trade of the port, throwing impediments in the way of all shipping not consigned to their management, and embezzling the cargoes of such as were. An asylum was also afforded, beyond the reach of law, for all persons whose crimes or debts induced them to fly from the several European settlements. These considerations chiefly made the Company resolve to reclaim their ancient privileges in that kingdom, and a deputation was sent from the presidency of Madras in the year 1695 for that purpose, with letters addressed to her illustrious majesty the queen of Achin, desiring permission to settle on the terms her predecessors had granted to them; which was readily complied with, and a factory, but on a very limited scale, was established accordingly, but soon declined and disappeared. In 1704, when Charles Lockyer (whose account of his voyage, containing a particular description of this place, was published in 1711) visited Achin, one of these independent factors, named Francis Delton, carried on a flourishing trade. In 1695 the Achinese were alarmed by the arrival of six sail of Dutch ships of force, with a number of troops on board, in their road, not having been visited by any of that nation for fifteen years, but they departed without offering any molestation.
She died in 1688, having ruled for just under eleven years, and was succeeded by a young queen named Kamalat-shah. However, this transition faced strong opposition from a faction of the orang kayas who wanted to install a king, leading to a civil war. The two sides positioned their forces on opposite banks of the river, and for two or three nights they exchanged gunfire, while during the day they went about their usual activities. These chances for interaction made them realize their shared foolishness. They agreed to lay down their weapons, and the crown remained with the newly elected queen. It was thought essential that she be an unmarried woman, older in age, and related by blood to the ancient royal line. During her reign, an English trading post, which had long been inactive, was reestablished at Achin, although some private traders from England had always remained in the area. These traders often tried to convince the state that they represented the India Company and sometimes gained significant influence, which they are accused of exploiting in ways that harmed both the Company and the interests of Indian merchants by monopolizing the port's trade, obstructing any shipping not under their control, and misappropriating the cargoes of those that were. They also offered refuge beyond the reach of the law for individuals fleeing the various European settlements due to crimes or debts. These factors primarily motivated the Company to reclaim their former rights in that kingdom, leading to a delegation being sent from the Madras presidency in 1695 to seek permission from her majesty, the queen of Achin, to settle under the same conditions granted by her predecessors. This was readily accepted, and a small trading post was established, although it soon declined and disappeared. In 1704, when Charles Lockyer (whose travel account, detailing a description of this place, was published in 1711) visited Achin, one of these independent traders, named Francis Delton, was running a successful trade. In 1695, the Achinese were startled by the arrival of six Dutch warships and several troops, as they hadn’t seen any of that nation in fifteen years, but the Dutch left without causing any trouble.
1699.
1699.
This queen was deposed by her subjects (whose grounds of complaint are not stated) about the latter part of the year 1699, after reigning also eleven years; and with her terminated the female dynasty, which, during its continuance of about fifty-nine years, had attracted much notice in Europe.
This queen was overthrown by her subjects (the reasons for their complaints are not mentioned) in the latter part of 1699, after ruling for eleven years; and with her ended the female dynasty, which, during its duration of about fifty-nine years, had drawn significant attention in Europe.
Her successor was named Beder al-alum sherif Hasham, the nature of whose pretensions to the crown does not positively appear, but there is reason to believe that he was her brother. When he had reigned a little more than two years it pleased God (as the Annals express it) to afflict him with a distemper which caused his feet and hands to contract (probably the gout) and disqualified him for the performance of his religious duties.
Her successor was named Beder al-alum sherif Hasham, and while it's not clear what exactly his claims to the throne were, there's reason to believe he was her brother. After he had ruled for just over two years, it seemed that God (as noted in the Annals) afflicted him with an illness that caused his hands and feet to contract (likely gout), making it impossible for him to perform his religious duties.
1702.
1702.
Under these circumstances he was induced to resign the government in 1702, and died about a month after his abdication.
Under these circumstances, he was persuaded to resign the government in 1702 and died about a month after his abdication.
Perkasa-alum, a priest, found means by his intrigues to acquire the sovereignty, and one of his first acts was to attempt imposing certain duties on the merchandise imported by English traders, who had been indulged with an exemption from all port charges excepting the established complimentary presents upon their arrival and receiving the chap or licence. This had been stipulated in the treaty made by Sir James Lancaster, and renewed by Mr. Grey when chief of the Company's factory. The innovation excited an alarm and determined opposition on the part of the masters of ships then at the place, and they proceeded (under the conduct of Captain Alexander Hamilton, who published an account of his voyage in 1727) to the very unwarrantable step of commencing hostilities by firing upon the villages situated near the mouth of the river, and cutting off from the city all supplies of provisions by sea. The inhabitants, feeling severely the effects of these violent measures, grew clamorous against the government, which was soon obliged to restore to these insolent traders the privileges for which they contended.
Perkasa-alum, a priest, used his schemes to gain power, and one of his first actions was to try to impose new duties on goods imported by English traders, who had previously enjoyed an exemption from all port fees except for the usual gifts upon their arrival and for obtaining the chap or license. This had been stated in the treaty made by Sir James Lancaster and renewed by Mr. Grey when he was in charge of the Company's factory. This change raised alarms and met strong resistance from the ship captains present at the time, and they took the drastic step of starting hostilities by firing on the villages near the river mouth and cutting off all sea supplies to the city. The locals, feeling the harsh impact of these aggressive actions, became vocal against the government, which was soon forced to restore the privileges that these arrogant traders had fought for.
1704.
1704.
Advantage was taken of the public discontents to raise an insurrection in favour of the nephew of the late queen, or, according to the Annals, the son of Beder al-alum (who was probably her brother), in the event of which Perkasa-alum was deposed about the commencement of the year 1704, and after an interregnum or anarchy of three months continuance, the young prince obtained possession of the throne, by the name of Jemal al-alum. From this period the native writers furnish very ample details of the transactions of the Achinese government, as well as of the general state of the country, whose prosperous circumstances during the early part of this king's reign are strongly contrasted with the misery and insignificance to which it was reduced by subsequent events. The causes and progress of this political decline cannot be more satisfactorily set forth than in a faithful translation of the Malayan narrative which was drawn up, or extracted from a larger work, for my use, and is distinct from the Annals already mentioned:
The public unrest was used as an opportunity to spark a rebellion in support of the late queen’s nephew, or, as noted in the Annals, the son of Beder al-alum (who was likely her brother). As a result, Perkasa-alum was removed from power around the start of 1704. After a period of three months marked by chaos and power struggles, the young prince took the throne under the name Jemal al-alum. From this point on, local historians provide detailed accounts of the Achinese government and the overall condition of the country, whose thriving situation during the early years of this king's rule stands in sharp contrast to the suffering and obscurity it faced due to later events. The reasons for and the trajectory of this political decline can be best understood through a faithful translation of the Malayan narrative that was prepared or taken from a larger work for my use, which is separate from the previously mentioned Annals:
When raja Jemal al-alum reigned in Achin the country was exceedingly populous, the nobles had large possessions, the merchants were numerous and opulent, the judgments of the king were just, and no man could experience the severity of punishment but through his own fault. In those days the king could not trade on his own account, the nobles having combined to prevent it; but the accustomed duties of the port were considered as his revenue, and ten per cent was levied for this purpose upon all merchandise coming into the country. The city was then of great extent, the houses were of brick and stone. The most considerable merchant was a man named Daniel, a Hollander; but many of different nations were also settled there, some from Surat, some from Kutch, others from China. When ships arrived in the port, if the merchants could not take off all the cargoes the king advanced the funds for purchasing what remained, and divided the goods among them, taking no profit to himself. After the departure of the vessel the king was paid in gold the amount of his principal, without interest.
When Raja Jemal al-Alum ruled in Achin, the country was very populated, the nobles owned large estates, there were many wealthy merchants, the king's decisions were fair, and no one suffered harsh punishment except for their own mistakes. Back then, the king couldn't trade for himself because the nobles banded together to stop him; instead, the regular port duties were seen as his income, and a ten percent tax was collected on all goods entering the country. The city was quite large, with buildings made of brick and stone. The most prominent merchant was a man named Daniel, a Dutchman; however, many people from different nations also lived there, including some from Surat, some from Kutch, and others from China. When ships arrived at the port, if the merchants couldn't offload all the cargo, the king would provide the funds to buy what was left, distributing the goods among them without taking any profit for himself. After the ship left, the king was paid back in gold, only the amount he originally put in, without any interest.
His daily amusements were in the grounds allotted for the royal sports. He was attended by a hundred young men, who were obliged to be constantly near his person day and night, and who were clothed in a sumptuous manner at a monthly expense of a hundred dollars for each man. The government of the different parts of the country was divided, under his authority, amongst the nobles. When a district appeared to be disturbed he took measures for quelling the insurrection; those who resisted his orders he caused to be apprehended; when the roads were bad he gave directions for their repair. Such was his conduct in the government. His subjects all feared him, and none dared to condemn his actions. At that time the country was in peace.
His daily entertainment took place in the areas set aside for royal sports. He was surrounded by a hundred young men who had to be close to him day and night, dressed lavishly at a cost of a hundred dollars a month for each. The governance of various regions was divided under his authority among the nobles. When a district seemed to be in turmoil, he took steps to suppress the uprising; those who defied his orders were arrested; when the roads were in poor condition, he ordered them to be fixed. This was how he handled governance. His subjects all feared him, and no one dared to challenge his actions. At that time, the country was at peace.
When he had been a few years on the throne a country lying to the eastward, named Batu Bara, attempted to throw off its subjection to Achin. The chiefs were ordered to repair to court to answer for their conduct, but they refused to obey. These proceedings raised the king's indignation. He assembled the nobles and required of them that each should furnish a vessel of war, to be employed on an expedition against that place, and within two months, thirty large galleys, without counting vessels of a smaller size, were built and equipped for sea. When the fleet arrived off Batu Bara (by which must be understood the Malayan district at the mouth of the river, and not the Batta territory through which it takes its course), a letter was sent on shore addressed to the refractory chiefs, summoning them to give proof of their allegiance by appearing in the king's presence, or threatening the alternative of an immediate attack. After much division in their councils it was at length agreed to feign submission, and a deputation was sent off to the royal fleet, carrying presents of fruit and provisions of all kinds. One of the chiefs carried, as his complimentary offering, some fresh coconuts, of the delicate species called kalapa-gading, into which a drug had been secretly introduced. The king observing these directed that one should be cut open for him, and having drunk of the juice, became affected with a giddiness in his head. (This symptom shows the poison to have been the upas, but too much diluted in the liquor of the nut to produce death). Being inclined to repose, the strangers were ordered to return on shore, and, finding his indisposition augment, he gave directions for being conveyed back to Achin, whither his ship sailed next day. The remainder of the fleet continued off the coast during five or six days longer, and then returned likewise without effecting the reduction of the place, which the chiefs had lost no time in fortifying.
After a few years on the throne, a country to the east called Batu Bara tried to break free from Achin's control. The leaders were summoned to court to explain their actions, but they refused to comply. This angered the king. He gathered the nobles and required each of them to provide a warship for an expedition against Batu Bara. Within two months, thirty large galleys, not counting smaller vessels, were built and readied for sea. When the fleet reached Batu Bara (referring specifically to the Malay district at the river's mouth, not the Batta territory upstream), a letter was sent ashore addressed to the defiant chiefs, demanding they prove their loyalty by appearing before the king or face immediate attack. After much debate among themselves, they finally decided to pretend to submit and sent a delegation to the royal fleet with gifts of fruit and various provisions. One of the chiefs brought fresh coconuts of the delicate type called kalapa-gading, into which a drug had been secretly mixed. The king noticed this and ordered one to be opened for him. After drinking the juice, he felt dizzy. (This symptom indicated that the poison was upas, but it had been too diluted in the coconut juice to be lethal). Feeling unwell, the king instructed the strangers to return to shore, and as his condition worsened, he arranged to be taken back to Achin, where his ship sailed the next day. The rest of the fleet stayed off the coast for another five or six days, then returned as well, failing to capture the place, which the chiefs had quickly fortified.
About two years after this transaction the king, under pretence of amusement, made an excursion to the country lying near the source of the river Achin, then under the jurisdiction of a panglima or governor named Muda Seti; for it must be understood that this part of the kingdom is divided into three districts, known by the appellations of the Twenty-two, Twenty-six, and Twenty-five Mukims (see above), which were governed respectively by Muda Seti, Imam Muda, and PerbawangShah (or Purba-wangsa). These three chiefs had the entire control of the country, and when their views were united they had the power of deposing and setting up kings. Such was the nature of the government. The king's expedition was undertaken with the design of making himself master of the person of Muda Seti, who had given him umbrage, and on this occasion his followers of all ranks were so numerous that wherever they halted for the night the fruits of the earth were all devoured, as well as great multitudes of cattle. Muda Seti however, being aware of the designs against him, had withdrawn himself from the place of his usual residence and was not to be found when the king arrived there; but a report being brought that he had collected five or six hundred followers and was preparing to make resistance, orders were immediately given for burning his house. This being effected, the king returned immediately to Achin, leaving the forces that had accompanied him at a place called Pakan Badar, distant about half a day's journey from the capital, where they were directed to entrench themselves. From this post they were driven by the country chief, who advanced rapidly upon them with several thousand men, and forced them to fall back to Padang Siring, where the king was collecting an army, and where a battle was fought soon after, that terminated in the defeat of the royal party with great slaughter. Those who escaped took refuge in the castle along with the king.
About two years after this event, the king, under the guise of seeking entertainment, took a trip to the area near the source of the Achin River, which was then under the control of a governor named Muda Seti. It should be noted that this part of the kingdom is divided into three districts, known as the Twenty-two, Twenty-six, and Twenty-five Mukims (see above), each governed by Muda Seti, Imam Muda, and Perbawang-Shah (or Purba-wangsa) respectively. These three leaders held complete control over the region, and when they agreed on something, they had the power to remove and install kings. This was the nature of the government. The king's expedition aimed to capture Muda Seti, who had offended him, and during this journey, his followers were so numerous that they consumed all the local produce and a vast number of cattle wherever they camped for the night. However, Muda Seti, aware of the threat against him, had moved from his usual residence and was absent by the time the king arrived. When a report came in that Muda Seti had gathered five or six hundred followers and was preparing to resist, the king ordered his house to be burned down. After this was done, the king returned to Achin, leaving the forces that had accompanied him at a location called Pakan Badar, about half a day's journey from the capital, where they were instructed to fortify their position. They were soon driven from this post by the local chief, who quickly advanced with several thousand men and forced them to retreat to Padang Siring, where the king was gathering an army. A battle occurred shortly after that ended with the royal party being defeated and suffering heavy casualties. Those who managed to escape sought refuge in the castle with the king.
1723.
1723.
Under these disastrous circumstances he called upon the chiefs who adhered to him to advise what was best to be done, surrounded as they were by the country people, on whom he invoked the curse of God; when one of them, named Panglima Maharaja, gave it as his opinion that the only effectual measure by which the country could be saved from ruin would be the king's withdrawing himself from the capital so long as the enemy should continue in its vicinity, appointing a regent from among the nobles to govern the country in his absence; and when subordination should be restored he might then return and take again possession of his throne. To this proposition he signified his assent on the condition that Panglima Maharaja should assure him by an oath that no treachery was intended; which oath was accordingly taken, and the king, having nominated as his substitute Maharaja Lela, one of the least considerable of the ulubalangs, retired with his wives and children to the country of the Four mukims, situated about three hours journey to the westward of the city. (The Annals say he fled to Pidir in November 1723.) Great ravages were committed by the insurgents, but they did not attack the palace, and after some days of popular confusion the chiefs of the Three districts, who (says the writer) must not be confounded with the officers about the person of the king, held a consultation amongst themselves, and, exercising an authority of which there had been frequent examples, set up Panglima Maharaja in the room of the abdicated king (by the title, say the Annals, of Juhar al-alum, in December 1723). About seven days after his elevation he was seized with a convulsive disorder in his neck and died. A nephew of Jemal al-alum, named Undei Tebang, was then placed upon the throne, but notwithstanding his having bribed the chiefs of the Three districts with thirty katties of gold, they permitted him to enjoy his dignity only a few days, and then deposed him. (The same authority states that he was set up by the chiefs of the Four mukims, and removed through the influence of Muda Seti.)
In these terrible circumstances, he called upon the chiefs who supported him to suggest what should be done, as they were surrounded by the local people, on whom he invoked God’s curse. One of them, named Panglima Maharaja, suggested that the only effective way to save the country from ruin would be for the king to leave the capital while the enemy remained nearby, appointing a regent from among the nobles to govern in his absence. Once order was restored, he could return to reclaim his throne. The king agreed to this proposal, on the condition that Panglima Maharaja swore there was no intent of treachery; the oath was taken, and the king, having appointed Maharaja Lela, one of the less significant ulubalangs, as his substitute, retreated with his wives and children to the area of the Four mukims, about three hours west of the city. (The Annals say he fled to Pidir in November 1723.) The insurgents caused great devastation, but they did not attack the palace. After a few days of chaos, the chiefs of the Three districts, who (according to the writer) should not be confused with the king's personal officers, held a meeting among themselves and, exercising the authority they had often used in the past, appointed Panglima Maharaja to replace the abdicated king (by the title, according to the Annals, of Juhar al-alum, in December 1723). About a week after his rise to power, he suffered a convulsive disorder in his neck and died. A nephew of Jemal al-alum, named Undei Tebang, was then put on the throne, but despite having bribed the chiefs of the Three districts with thirty katties of gold, they allowed him to hold the position for only a few days before deposing him. (The same authority claims that he was supported by the chiefs of the Four mukims and removed due to the influence of Muda Seti.)
1724. 1735.
1724. 1735.
The person whom they next combined to raise to the throne was Maharaja Lela (before mentioned as the king's substitute). It was his good fortune to govern the country in tranquillity for the space of nearly twelve years, during which period the city of Achin recovered its population. (According to the Annals he began to reign in February 1724, by the title of Ala ed-din Ahmed shah Juhan, and died in June 1735.) It happened that the same day on which the event of his death took place Jemal al-alum again made his appearance, and advanced to a mosque near the city. His friends advised him to lose no time in possessing himself of the castle, but for trifling reasons that mark the weakness of his character he resolved to defer the measure till the succeeding day; and the opportunity, as might be expected, was lost. The deceased king left five sons, the eldest of whom, named Po-chat-au (or Po-wak, according to another manuscript) exhorted his brothers to unite with him in the determination of resisting a person whose pretensions were entirely inconsistent with their security. They accordingly sent to demand assistance of Perbawang-shah, chief of the district of the Twenty-five mukims, which lies the nearest to that quarter. He arrived before morning, embraced the five princes, confirmed them in their resolution, and authorised the eldest to assume the government (which he did, say the Annals, by the title of Ala ed-din Juhan-shah in September 1735.) But to this measure the concurrence of the other chiefs was wanting. At daybreak the guns of the castle began to play upon the mosque, and, some of the shot penetrating its walls, the pusillanimous Jemal al-alum, being alarmed at the danger, judged it advisable to retreat from thence and to set up his standard in another quarter, called kampong Jawa, his people at the same time retaining possession of the mosque. A regular warfare now ensued between the two parties and continued for no less than ten years (the great chiefs taking different sides), when at length some kind of compromise was effected that left Po-chat-au (Juhanshah) in the possession of the throne, which he afterwards enjoyed peaceably for eight years, and no further mention is made of Jemal al-alum. About this period the chiefs took umbrage at his interfering in matters of trade, contrary to what they asserted to be the established custom of the realm, and assembled their forces in order to intimidate him. (The history of Achin presents a continual struggle between the monarch and the aristocracy of the country, which generally made the royal monopoly of trade the ground of crimination and pretext for their rebellions).
The next person they decided to raise to the throne was Maharaja Lela (previously mentioned as the king's substitute). He was fortunate to govern the country peacefully for almost twelve years, during which time the city of Achin regained its population. (According to the Annals, he started his reign in February 1724 under the title of Ala ed-din Ahmed shah Juhan and died in June 1735.) On the same day he died, Jemal al-alum reappeared and went to a mosque near the city. His friends urged him to quickly take control of the castle, but for petty reasons that showed his weak character, he decided to wait until the next day; as expected, that opportunity was lost. The late king left five sons, the eldest named Po-chat-au (or Po-wak, according to another manuscript), who encouraged his brothers to unite against someone whose claim to power threatened their safety. They therefore sent a request for help to Perbawang-shah, the chief of the district of the Twenty-five mukims, which was closest to them. He arrived before morning, embraced the five princes, supported their decision, and authorized the eldest to take over governance (which he did, according to the Annals, under the title of Ala ed-din Juhan-shah in September 1735). However, the agreement of the other chiefs was lacking. At dawn, the castle began firing upon the mosque, and as some of the shots breached its walls, a frightened Jemal al-alum deemed it wise to retreat and set up his flag elsewhere in kampong Jawa, while his followers kept control of the mosque. A full-scale conflict then erupted between the two sides and lasted for a decade (with major chiefs taking different sides), until a sort of compromise was reached that allowed Po-chat-au (Juhan-shah) to maintain the throne, which he held peacefully for eight years, and there’s no further record of Jemal al-alum. During this time, the chiefs became upset with him for interfering in trade matters, which they claimed went against the realm's established customs, and they gathered their forces to intimidate him. (The history of Achin showcases a continuous struggle between the monarch and the aristocracy, who often used the royal monopoly on trade as a basis for accusations and rebellion.)
1755.
1755.
Panglima Muda Seti, being considered as the head of the league, came down with twenty thousand followers, and, upon the king's refusing to admit into the castle his complimentary present (considering it only as the prelude to humiliating negotiation), another war commenced that lasted for two years, and was at length terminated by Muda Seti's withdrawing from the contest and returning to his province. About five years after this event Juhan shah died, and his son, Pochat-bangta, succeeded him, but not (says this writer, who here concludes his abstract) with the general concurrence of the chiefs, and the country long continued in a disturbed state.
Panglima Muda Seti, seen as the leader of the league, arrived with twenty thousand followers. When the king refused to accept his gift, viewing it merely as a precursor to a degrading negotiation, another war broke out that lasted two years. It eventually ended when Muda Seti withdrew from the fight and returned to his province. About five years later, Juhan Shah died, and his son, Pochat-bangta, took over, but (as the author here concludes his summary) not with the general agreement of the chiefs, and the country remained unsettled for a long time.
END OF NARRATIVE.
END OF NARRATIVE.
1760.
1760.
The death of Juhan shah is stated in the Annals to have taken place in August 1760, and the accession of the son, who took the name of Ala-eddin Muhammed shah, not until November of the same year. Other authorities place these events in 1761.
The Annals say that Juhan Shah died in August 1760, and his son, who took the name Ala-eddin Muhammed Shah, didn't come to power until November of that same year. Other sources date these events to 1761.
1763.
1763.
Before he had completed the third year of his reign an insurrection of his subjects obliged him to save himself by flight on board a ship in the road. This happened in 1763 or 1764. The throne was seized by the maharaja (first officer of state) named Sinara, who assumed the title of Beder-eddin Juhan shah, and about the end of 1765 was put to death by the adherents of the fugitive monarch, Muhammed shah, who thereupon returned to the throne.*
Before he finished his third year as king, a revolt from his people forced him to escape by boarding a ship in the harbor. This occurred in 1763 or 1764. The throne was taken over by the maharaja, Sinara, who claimed the title of Beder-eddin Juhan shah, but was executed around the end of 1765 by supporters of the exiled king, Muhammed shah, who then reclaimed the throne.*
(*Footnote. Captain Forrest acquaints us that he visited the court of Mahomed Selim (the latter name is not given to this prince by any other writer) in the year 1764, at which time he appeared to be about forty years of age. It is difficult to reconcile this date with the recorded events of this unfortunate reign, and I have doubts whether it was not the usurper whom the Captain saw.)
(*Footnote. Captain Forrest informs us that he visited the court of Mahomed Selim (this name is not mentioned for this prince by any other writer) in 1764, when he seemed to be around forty years old. It's challenging to align this date with the recorded events of this troubled reign, and I question whether it was actually the usurper that the Captain saw.)
He was exposed however to further revolutions. About six years after his restoration the palace was attacked in the night by a desperate band of two hundred men, headed by a man called Raja Udah, and he was once more obliged to make a precipitate retreat. This usurper took the title of sultan Suliman shah, but after a short reign of three months was driven out in his turn and forced to fly for refuge to one of the islands in the eastern sea. The nature of his pretensions, if he had any, have not been stated, but he never gave any further trouble. From this period Muhammed maintained possession of his capital, although it was generally in a state of confusion.
He faced more revolutions, though. About six years after he was restored, the palace was attacked at night by a desperate group of two hundred men, led by a guy named Raja Udah, and he had to make a quick escape once again. This usurper claimed the title of Sultan Suliman Shah, but after just three months, he was driven out and had to flee to one of the islands in the eastern sea for safety. It's unclear what his claims were, if he had any, but he never caused any more issues. From then on, Muhammed held onto his capital, even though it was usually in a state of chaos.
1772.
1772.
"In the year 1772," says Captain Forrest, "Mr. Giles Holloway, resident of Tappanooly, was sent to Achin by the Bencoolen government, with a letter and present, to ask leave from the king to make a settlement there. I carried him from his residency. Not being very well on my arrival, I did not accompany Mr. Holloway (a very sensible and discreet gentleman, and who spoke the Malay tongue very fluently) on shore at his first audience; and finding his commission likely to prove abortive I did not go to the palace at all. There was great anarchy and confusion at this time; and the malcontents came often, as I was informed, near the king's palace at night."
"In 1772," Captain Forrest says, "Mr. Giles Holloway, who lived in Tappanooly, was sent to Achin by the Bencoolen government with a letter and a gift to ask the king for permission to set up a settlement there. I took him from his home. Since I wasn't feeling well when I arrived, I didn’t go with Mr. Holloway (a very sensible and discreet gentleman, who spoke Malay very fluently) to his first meeting on shore; and seeing that his mission was likely to fail, I didn't go to the palace at all. There was a lot of chaos and disorder at that time, and I was told that discontented people often came near the king's palace at night."
1775.
1775.
The Captain further remarks that when again there in 1775 he could not obtain an audience.
The Captain also notes that when he was there again in 1775, he couldn’t get a meeting.
1781.
1781.
The Annals report his death to have happened on the 2nd of June 1781, and observe that from the commencement to the close of his reign the country never enjoyed repose. His brother, named Ala-eddin (or Uleddin, as commonly pronounced, and which seems to have been a favourite title with the Achinese princes), was in exile at Madras during a considerable period, and resided also for some time at Bencoolen.
The Annals state that he died on June 2, 1781, noting that from the beginning to the end of his reign, the country was never at peace. His brother, named Ala-eddin (or Uleddin, as it's often pronounced, which seems to have been a popular title among the Achinese princes), was in exile in Madras for a considerable amount of time and also lived for a while in Bencoolen.
The eldest son of the deceased king, then about eighteen years of age, succeeded him on the 16th of the same month, by the title of Ala-eddin Mahmud shah Juhan, in spite of an opposition attempted to be raised by the partisans of another son by a favourite wife. Weapons had been drawn in the court before the palace, when the tuanku agung or high priest, a person of great respectability and influence, by whom the former had been educated, came amidst the crowd, bareheaded and without attendance, leading his pupil by the hand. Having placed himself between the contending factions, he addressed them to the following effect: that the prince who stood before them had a natural right and legal claim to the throne of his father; that he had been educated with a view to it, and was qualified to adorn it by his disposition and talents; that he wished however to found his pretensions neither upon his birthright nor the strength of the party attached to him, but upon the general voice of his subjects calling him to the sovereignty; that if such was their sentiment he was ready to undertake the arduous duties of the station, in which he himself would assist him with the fruits of his experience; that if on the contrary they felt a predilection for his rival, no blood should be shed on his account, the prince and his tutor being resolved in that case to yield the point without a struggle, and retire to some distant island. This impressive appeal had the desired effect, and the young prince was invited by unanimous acclamation to assume the reins of government.*
The eldest son of the late king, about eighteen years old, took over on the 16th of that month, going by the title of Ala-eddin Mahmud Shah Juhan, despite attempts at opposition from supporters of another son by a favored wife. Tensions rose at the court outside the palace when the tuanku agung, or high priest—a highly respected and influential figure who had educated the young prince—came into the crowd, without any attendants and with his head uncovered, holding his pupil's hand. He positioned himself between the opposing sides and spoke to them. He explained that the prince before them had a natural right and legal claim to his father’s throne; he had been raised for this purpose and was well-suited to it due to his character and abilities. He stated, however, that he wanted to base his claim not on his birthright or the strength of his supporters, but on the collective wish of his subjects calling him to rule. He said that if that was indeed their sentiment, he was ready to take on the tough responsibilities of the position, with the priest offering his guidance based on his experience. On the other hand, if they preferred his rival, no blood would be spilled over it, as the prince and his tutor were prepared to step aside without a fight and retreat to a distant island. This powerful appeal had the intended result, and the young prince was unanimously invited to take on the leadership.
(*Footnote. Mr. Philip Braham, late chief of the East India Company's settlement of Fort Marlborough, by whom the circumstances of this event were related to me, arrived at Achin in July 1781, about a fortnight after the transaction. He thus described his audience. The king was seated in a gallery (to which there were no visible steps), at the extremity of a spacious hall or court, and a curtain which hung before him was drawn aside when it was his pleasure to appear. In this court were great numbers of female attendants, but not armed, as they have been described. Mr. Braham was introduced through a long file of guards armed with blunderbusses, and then seated on a carpet in front of the gallery. When a conversation had been carried on for some time through the Shabandar, who communicated his answers to an interpreter, by whom they were reported to the king, the latter perceiving that he spoke the Malayan language addressed him directly, and asked several questions respecting England; what number of wives and children our sovereign had; how many ships of war the English kept in India; what was the French force, and others of that nature. He expressed himself in friendly terms with regard to our nation, and said he should always be happy to countenance our traders in his ports. Even at this early period of his reign he had abolished some vexatious imposts. Mr. Braham had an opportunity of learning the great degree of power and control possessed by certain of the orang kayas, who held their respective districts in actual sovereignty, and kept the city in awe by stopping, when it suited their purpose, the supplies of provisions. Captain Forrest, who once more visited Achin in 1784 and was treated with much distinction (see his Voyage to the Mergui Archipelago page 51), says he appeared to be twenty-five years of age; but this was a misconception. Mr. Kenneth Mackenzie, who saw him in 1782, judged him to have been at that time no more than nineteen or twenty, which corresponds with Mr. Braham's statement.)
(*Footnote. Mr. Philip Braham, former chief of the East India Company’s settlement at Fort Marlborough, who shared the details of this event with me, arrived in Achin in July 1781, about two weeks after the event took place. He described his audience like this: The king was seated in a gallery (which had no visible steps) at the end of a large hall or courtyard, and a curtain that hung in front of him was drawn aside whenever he chose to appear. This courtyard contained many female attendants, but they were unarmed, contrary to earlier descriptions. Mr. Braham was introduced through a long line of guards wielding blunderbusses and then was seated on a carpet in front of the gallery. After a while, a conversation took place through the Shabandar, who communicated his responses to an interpreter, who then reported them to the king. When the king noticed that Mr. Braham spoke the Malayan language, he addressed him directly and asked several questions about England, including how many wives and children our sovereign had, how many warships the English had in India, the strength of the French forces, and similar inquiries. He spoke kindly about our nation and mentioned that he would always be glad to support our traders in his ports. Even at this early stage of his reign, he had already abolished some annoying taxes. Mr. Braham learned about the significant power and control held by certain orang kayas, who exercised actual sovereignty over their districts and kept the city in check by cutting off food supplies when it suited their purposes. Captain Forrest, who visited Achin again in 1784 and was treated with great honor (see his Voyage to the Mergui Archipelago, page 51), estimated the king’s age to be about twenty-five; however, this was a misunderstanding. Mr. Kenneth Mackenzie, who saw him in 1782, believed him to be no more than nineteen or twenty at that time, which aligns with Mr. Braham's account.)
Little is known of the transactions of his reign, but that little is in favour of his personal character. The Annals (not always unexceptionable evidence when speaking of the living monarch) describe him as being endowed with every princely virtue, exercising the functions of government with vigour and rectitude, of undaunted courage, attentive to the protection of the ministers of religion, munificent to the descendants of the prophet (seiyid, but commonly pronounced sidi) and to men of learning, prompt at all times to administer justice, and consequently revered and beloved by his people. I have not been enabled to ascertain the year in which he died.
Little is known about the events during his reign, but what is known is positive regarding his character. The Annals (which aren't always completely reliable when discussing the living monarch) portray him as possessing every princely virtue, governing with energy and integrity, showing fearless courage, being attentive to the care of religious leaders, generous to the descendants of the prophet (seiyid, but often pronounced sidi), and men of knowledge, always ready to deliver justice, leading to him being respected and loved by his people. I have not been able to find out the year in which he died.
1791.
1791.
It appears by a Malayan letter from Achin that in 1791 the peace of the capital was much disturbed, and the state of the government as well as of private property (which induced the writer to reship his goods) precarious.
It seems from a letter from Achin in Malaysia that in 1791, the peace in the capital was significantly disrupted, and both the government’s stability and the safety of personal belongings (which led the writer to send his goods back) were uncertain.
1805.
1805.
In 1805 his son, then aged twenty-one, was on the throne, and had a contention with his paternal uncle, and at the same time his father-in-law, named Tuanku Raja, by whom he had been compelled to fly (but only for a short time) to Pidir, the usual asylum of the Achinese monarchs. Their quarrel appears to have been rather of a family than of a political nature, and to have proceeded from the irregular conduct of the queen-mother. The low state of this young king's finances, impoverished by a fruitless struggle to enforce, by means of an expensive marine establishment, his right to an exclusive trade, had induced him to make proposals, for mutual accommodation, to the English government of Pulo Pinang.*
In 1805, his son, who was twenty-one at the time, was on the throne and had a conflict with his paternal uncle, who was also his father-in-law, named Tuanku Raja. He had been forced to flee (but only briefly) to Pidir, the usual refuge for Achinese kings. Their disagreement seemed more like a family issue than a political one, stemming from the questionable behavior of the queen-mother. The young king's finances were in poor shape, having been drained by a costly attempt to assert his right to exclusive trade through an expensive naval force. This situation led him to propose a deal for mutual benefit to the English government of Pulo Pinang.*
(*Footnote. Since the foregoing was printed the following information respecting the manners of the Batta people, obtained by Mr. Charles Holloway from Mr. W.H. Hayes, has reached my hands. "In the month of July 1805 an expedition consisting of Sepoys, Malays, and Battas was sent from Tapanuli against a chief named Punei Manungum, residing at Negatimbul, about thirty miles inland from Old Tapanuli, in consequence of his having attacked a kampong under the protection of the company, murdered several of the inhabitants, and carried others into captivity. After a siege of three days, terms of accommodation being proposed, a cessation of hostilities took place, when the people of each party having laid aside their arms intermixed with the utmost confidence, and conversed together as if in a state of perfect amity. The terms however not proving satisfactory, each again retired to his arms and renewed the contest with their former inveteracy. On the second day the place was evacuated, and upon our people entering it Mr. Hayes found the bodies of one man and two women, whom the enemy had put to death before their departure (being the last remaining of sixteen prisoners whom they had originally carried off), and from whose legs large pieces had been cut out, evidently for the purpose of being eaten. During the progress of this expedition a small party had been sent to hold in check the chiefs of Labusukum and Singapollum (inland of Sibogah), who were confederates of Punei Manungum. These however proved stronger than was expected, and, making a sally from their kampongs, attacked the sergeant's party and killed a sepoy, whom he was obliged to abandon. Mr. Hayes, on his way from Negatimbul, was ordered to march to the support of the retreating party; but these having taken a different route he remained ignorant of the particulars of their loss. The village of Singapollam being immediately carried by storm, and the enemy retreating by one gate, as our people entered at the opposite, the accoutrements of the sepoy who had been killed the day before were seen hanging as trophies in the front of the houses, and in the town hall, Mr. Hayes saw the head entirely scalped, and one of the fingers fixed upon a fork or skewer, still warm from the fire. On proceeding to the village of Labusucom, situated little more than two hundred yards from the former, he found a large plantain leaf full of human flesh, mixed with lime-juice and chili-pepper, from which he inferred that they had been surprised in the very act of feasting on the sepoy, whose body had been divided between the two kampongs. Upon differences being settled with the chiefs they acknowledged with perfect sangfroid that such had been the case, saying at the same time, "you know it is our custom; why should we conceal it?")
(*Footnote. Since the previous text was printed, I've received new information about the customs of the Batta people, gathered by Mr. Charles Holloway from Mr. W.H. Hayes. "In July 1805, an expedition made up of Sepoys, Malays, and Battas was sent from Tapanuli against a chief named Punei Manungum, living in Negatimbul, about thirty miles inland from Old Tapanuli. This was in response to his attack on a village under the company's protection, where he murdered several residents and took others captive. After a three-day siege, terms for a truce were proposed, leading to a pause in hostilities. People from both sides laid down their arms, mingled freely, and talked as if they were in complete friendship. However, the terms did not satisfy either side, and they both returned to their weapons and resumed fighting with the same intensity. On the second day, the place was abandoned, and when our people entered, Mr. Hayes discovered the bodies of one man and two women, whom the enemy had killed before fleeing (the last of sixteen prisoners they had originally captured). Large pieces had been cut from their legs, clearly for the purpose of being eaten. During this expedition, a small group had been dispatched to keep an eye on the chiefs of Labusukum and Singapollum (upstream from Sibogah), who were allies of Punei Manungum. However, they turned out to be stronger than anticipated, and when they attacked the sergeant's group, they killed a sepoy, forcing him to leave the body behind. Mr. Hayes was instructed to provide support for the retreating group but, having taken a different route, he was unaware of their specific losses. The village of Singapollam was quickly captured, and as the enemy retreated through one gate, our forces entered through the opposite one. The equipment of the sepoy killed the previous day was found displayed as trophies in front of the houses, and in the town hall, Mr. Hayes saw the fully scalped head of the sepoy, with one of his fingers still skewered and warm from the fire. When he moved to the village of Labusucom, just over two hundred yards from Singapollam, he came across a large plantain leaf filled with human flesh, mixed with lime juice and chili pepper, leading him to believe they had been caught in the act of feasting on the sepoy, whose body had been split between the two villages. When differences were resolved with the chiefs, they casually admitted this had happened, saying, 'You know it is our custom; why should we hide it?')
CHAPTER 23.
BRIEF ACCOUNT OF THE ISLANDS LYING OFF THE WESTERN COAST OF SUMATRA.
Brief Account of the Islands off the Western Coast of Sumatra.
ISLANDS ADJACENT TO SUMATRA.
Islands near Sumatra.
The chain of islands which extends itself in a line nearly parallel to the western coast, at the distance from it of little more than a degree, being immediately connected with the principal subject of this work, and being themselves inhabited by a race or races of people apparently from the same original stock as those of the interior of Sumatra, whose genuineness of character has been preserved to a remarkable degree (whilst the islands on the eastern side are uniformly peopled with Malays), I have thought it expedient to add such authentic information respecting them as I have been enabled to obtain; and this I feel to be the more necessary from observing in the maps to which I have had recourse so much error and confusion in applying the names that the identity and even the existence of some of them have been considered as doubtful.
The chain of islands that runs nearly parallel to the western coast, just over a degree away, is directly related to the main topic of this work. These islands are home to people who seem to share the same original ancestry as those in the interior of Sumatra, with their distinct character remarkably preserved (while the islands on the eastern side are predominantly inhabited by Malays). I think it’s important to include whatever accurate information I’ve been able to gather about them, especially since I’ve noticed significant errors and confusion in the maps I’ve consulted. Some names have been applied incorrectly, leading to doubt about their identity and even their existence.
ENGANO.
ENGANO.
Of these islands the most southern is Engano, which is still but very imperfectly known, all attempts to open a friendly communication with the natives having hitherto proved fruitless; and in truth they have had but too much reason to consider strangers attempting to land on their coast as piratical enemies. In the voyage of J.J. Saar, published in 1662, we have an account of an expedition fitted out from Batavia in 1645 for the purpose of examining this island, which terminated in entrapping and carrying off with them sixty or seventy of the inhabitants, male and female. The former died soon after their arrival, refusing to eat any other food than coconuts, but the women, who were distributed amongst the principal families of Batavia, proved extremely tractable and docile, and acquired the language of the place. It is not stated, nor does it appear from any subsequent publication, that the opportunity was taken of forming a collection of their words.
Of these islands, the southernmost is Engano, which is still not very well known. All attempts to establish friendly communication with the locals have been unsuccessful so far, and understandably, they have good reason to view strangers trying to land on their shores as threats. In J.J. Saar's voyage, published in 1662, there's a record of an expedition launched from Batavia in 1645 to explore this island, which resulted in the capture and removal of sixty or seventy inhabitants, both men and women. The men died shortly after arriving, as they refused to eat anything other than coconuts, but the women, who were distributed among the leading families of Batavia, turned out to be quite compliant and learned the local language. It is not mentioned, nor is it evident in any later publications, that there was an effort to create a collection of their words.
From that period Engano had only been incidentally noticed, until in March 1771 Mr. Richard Wyatt, then governor, and the council of Fort Marlborough, sent Mr. Charles Miller in a vessel belonging to the Company to explore the productions of this island. On approaching it he observed large plantations of coconut-trees, with several spots of ground cleared for cultivation on the hills, and at night many fires on the beach. Landing was found to be in most parts extremely difficult on account of the surf. Many of the natives were seen armed with lances and squatting down amongst the coral rocks, as if to conceal their numbers. Upon rowing into a bay with the ship's boat it was pursued by ten canoes full of men and obliged to return. Mr. Whalfeldt, the surveyor, and the second mate proceeded to make a survey of the bay and endeavour to speak with the natives. They were furnished with articles for presents, and, upon seeing a canoe on the beach of a small island, and several people fishing on the rocks, they rowed to the island and sent two caffrees on shore with some cloth, but the natives would not come near them. The mate then landed and advanced towards them, when they immediately came to him. He distributed some presents among them, and they in return gave him some fish. Several canoes came off to the ship with coconuts, sugar-cane, toddy, and a species of yam. The crew of one of them took an opportunity of unshipping and carrying away the boat's rudder, and upon a musket being fired over their heads many of them leaped into the sea.
From that time, Engano was only occasionally mentioned, until March 1771 when Mr. Richard Wyatt, the governor at the time, and the council of Fort Marlborough sent Mr. Charles Miller on a Company vessel to explore the resources of the island. As he approached, he noticed large coconut tree plantations, several clear areas for farming on the hills, and many fires on the beach at night. Landing proved to be very difficult in most areas due to the surf. Many of the locals were spotted armed with lances, hiding among the coral rocks to conceal their numbers. When they rowed into a bay with the ship's boat, they were chased away by ten canoes full of men. Mr. Whalfeldt, the surveyor, and the second mate went to survey the bay and try to communicate with the locals. They brought gifts and, upon seeing a canoe on the beach of a small island with people fishing on the rocks, they rowed there and sent two caffrees ashore with some cloth, but the locals wouldn't approach them. The mate then landed and moved towards them, and they came over to him immediately. He shared some gifts, and in return, they gave him some fish. Several canoes came to the ship with coconuts, sugar cane, toddy, and a type of yam. One crew took the chance to steal the boat's rudder, and when a musket was fired over their heads, many of them jumped into the sea.
Mr. Miller describes these people as being taller and fairer than the Malays, their hair black, which the men cut short, and the women wear long, and neatly turned up. The former go entirely naked except that they sometimes throw a piece of bark of tree, or plantain-leaf over their shoulders to protect them from the heat of the sun. The latter also are naked except a small slip of plantain-leaf round the waist; and some had on their heads fresh leaves made up nearly in the shape of a bonnet, with necklaces of small pieces of shell, and a shell hanging by a string, to be used as a comb. The ears of both men and women have large holes made in them, an inch or two in diameter, into which they put a ring made of coconut-shell or a roll of leaves. They do not chew betel. Their language was not understood by any person on board, although there were people from most parts adjacent to the coast. Their canoes are very neat, formed of two thin planks sewn together, sharp-pointed at each end and provided with outriggers. In general they contain six or seven men. They always carry lances, not only as offensive weapons, but for striking fish. These are about seven feet in length, formed of nibong and other hard woods; some of them tipped with pieces of bamboo made very sharp, and the concave part filled with fish-bones (and shark's teeth), others armed with pieces of bone made sharp and notched, and others pointed with bits of iron and copper sharpened. They seemed not to be unaccustomed to the sight of vessels. (Ships bound from the ports of India to the straits of Sunda, as well as those from Europe, when late in the season, frequently make the land of Engano, and many must doubtless be wrecked on its coast).
Mr. Miller describes these people as taller and fairer than the Malays. Their hair is black; the men cut theirs short, while the women wear it long and neatly styled. The men are mostly naked, occasionally draping a piece of tree bark or plantain leaf over their shoulders for sun protection. The women are also mostly naked, wearing only a small strip of plantain leaf around their waist. Some have fresh leaves on their heads styled almost like bonnets, and they wear necklaces made of small shells, with a shell hanging by a string that serves as a comb. Both men and women have large holes in their ears, measuring an inch or two in diameter, into which they insert rings made of coconut shell or rolls of leaves. They don’t chew betel. No one on the ship could understand their language, even though there were people from nearby coastal areas. Their canoes are very well-made, composed of two thin planks sewn together, pointed at both ends, and equipped with outriggers. Typically, each canoe carries about six or seven men. They always have lances, not just as weapons, but also for fishing. These lances are roughly seven feet long, made from nibong and other durable woods; some are tipped with sharp bamboo, while others have bone points that are sharp and notched, and some have metal or copper points that are sharpened. They appeared to be familiar with ships. (Vessels traveling from Indian ports to the Sunda Strait, as well as those from Europe, often pass near Engano, especially late in the season, and many likely end up wrecked along its coast).
Attempts were made to find a river or fresh water, but without success, nor even a good place to land. Two of the people from the ship having pushed in among the rocks and landed the natives soon came to them, snatched their handkerchiefs off their heads and ran away with them, but dropped them on being pursued. Soon afterwards they sounded a conch-shell, which brought numbers of them down to the beach. The bay appeared to be well sheltered and to afford good anchorage ground. The soil of the country for the most part a red clay. The productions Mr. Miller thought the same as are commonly found on the coast of Sumatra; but circumstances did not admit of his penetrating into the country, which, contrary to expectation, was found to be so full of inhabitants. In consequence of the loss of anchors and cables it was judged necessary that the vessel should return to Fort Marlborough. Having taken in the necessary supplies, the island was revisited. Finding no landing-place, the boat was run upon the coral rocks. Signs were made to the natives, who had collected in considerable numbers, and upon seeing our people land had retreated towards some houses, to stop, but to no purpose until Mr. Miller proceeded towards them unaccompanied, when they approached in great numbers and accepted of knives, pieces of cloth, etc. Observing a spot of cultivated ground surrounded by a sort of fence he went to it, followed by several of the natives who made signs to deter him, and as soon as he was out of sight of his own people began to handle his clothes and attempt to pull them off, when he returned to the beach.
Attempts were made to locate a river or fresh water, but there was no luck, nor was there a good place to land. Two people from the ship ventured among the rocks and landed, and the locals quickly approached them, snatching the handkerchiefs off their heads and running away, but they dropped them when chased. Soon after, they sounded a conch shell, which attracted a crowd to the beach. The bay seemed well-protected and provided good anchorage. The soil in the area was mostly red clay. Mr. Miller thought the crops were similar to those typically found on the coast of Sumatra; however, he couldn’t explore further inland, as the area was unexpectedly populated. Due to the loss of anchors and cables, it was decided that the vessel needed to return to Fort Marlborough. After taking on necessary supplies, the island was revisited. Finding no suitable landing place, the boat was run onto the coral rocks. Signals were made to the locals, who had gathered in significant numbers and retreated towards some houses upon seeing the crew land, but they did not stop until Mr. Miller approached them alone, at which point they came closer and accepted knives, pieces of cloth, and other items. When he noticed a cultivated area surrounded by a sort of fence, he went towards it, followed by several locals who gestured for him to stop. As soon as he was out of sight of his companions, they started touching his clothes and attempting to pull them off, prompting him to return to the beach.
Their houses stand singly in their plantations, are circular, about eight feet in diameter, raised about six from the ground on slender ironwood sticks, floored with planks, and the roof, which is thatched with long grass, rises from the floor in a conical shape. No rice was seen among them, nor did they appear to know the use of it when shown to them; nor were cattle nor fowls of any kind observed about their houses.
Their houses are set apart in their fields, circular in shape, about eight feet across, elevated around six feet off the ground on thin ironwood sticks, with wooden planks for flooring. The roof, thatched with long grass, rises from the floor in a cone shape. No rice was visible among them, and they didn't seem to recognize its use when it was shown to them; also, there were no cattle or chickens around their houses.
Having anchored off a low point of marshy land in the northern part of the bay, where the natives seemed to be more accustomed to intercourse with strangers, the party landed in hopes of finding a path to some houses about two miles inland. Upon observing signs made to them by some people on the coral reef Mr. Miller and Mr. Whalfeldt went towards them in the sampan, when some among them took an opportunity of stealing the latter's hanger and running away with it; upon which they were immediately fired at by some of the party, and notwithstanding Mr. Miller's endeavours to prevent them both the officer and men continued to fire upon and pursue the natives through the morass, but without being able to overtake them. Meeting however with some houses they set fire to them, and brought off two women and a boy whom the caffrees had seized. The officers on board the vessel, alarmed at the firing and seeing Mr. Miller alone in the sampan, whilst several canoes full of people were rowing towards him, sent the pinnace with some sepoys to his assistance. During the night conch-shells were heard to sound almost all over the bay, and in the morning several large parties were observed on different parts of the beach. All further communication with the inhabitants being interrupted by this imprudent quarrel, and the purposes of the expedition thereby frustrated, it was not thought advisable to remain any longer at Engano, and Mr. Miller, after visiting some parts of the southern coast of Sumatra, returned to Fort Marlborough.
Having anchored off a low patch of marshy land in the northern part of the bay, where the locals seemed more used to interactions with outsiders, the group landed, hoping to find a path to some houses about two miles inland. When they noticed gestures from some people on the coral reef, Mr. Miller and Mr. Whalfeldt went over in the sampan, but some of them took the chance to steal Whalfeldt's hanger and ran away with it. They were quickly shot at by some members of the group, and despite Mr. Miller's efforts to stop them, both the officer and the men continued to fire at and chase the locals through the swamp, but they couldn’t catch them. However, upon finding some houses, they set them on fire and rescued two women and a boy who had been captured by the caffrees. The officers on board the ship, alarmed by the gunfire and seeing Mr. Miller alone in the sampan while several canoes filled with people were approaching him, sent the pinnace with some sepoys to help him. During the night, conch-shells sounded all over the bay, and in the morning, several large groups could be seen on different parts of the beach. Since further communication with the locals was disrupted by this reckless conflict, and the goals of the expedition were thwarted, it was decided not to stay any longer at Engano. Mr. Miller, after exploring some areas of the southern coast of Sumatra, returned to Fort Marlborough.
PULO MEGA.
Pulo Mega.
The next island to the north-west of Engano, but at a considerable distance, is called by the Malays Pulo Mega (cloud-island), and by Europeans Triste, or isle de Recif. It is small and uninhabited, and like many others in these seas is nearly surrounded by a coral reef with a lagoon in the centre. Coconut-trees grow in vast numbers in the sand near the sea-shore, whose fruit serves for food to rats and squirrels, the only quadrupeds found there. On the borders of the lagoon is a little vegetable mould, just above the level of high water, where grow some species of timber-trees.
The next island to the northwest of Engano, but quite far away, is called Pulo Mega (cloud island) by the Malays, and Triste, or isle de Recif, by Europeans. It's small and uninhabited, and like many other islands in these waters, it’s almost completely surrounded by a coral reef with a lagoon in the center. Coconut trees grow in large numbers in the sand near the shore, providing food for rats and squirrels, the only land animals found there. Along the edges of the lagoon is a bit of soil, just above the high tide mark, where a few types of hardwood trees grow.
PULO SANDING.
PULP SANDING.
The name of Pulo Sanding or Sandiang belongs to two small islands situated near the south-eastern extremity of the Nassau or Pagi islands, in which group they are sometimes included. Of these the southernmost is distinguished in the Dutch charts by the term of Laag or low, and the other by that of Bergen or hilly. They are both uninhabited, and the only productions worth notice is the long nutmeg, which grows wild on them, and some good timber, particularly of the kind known by the name of marbau (Metrosideros amboinensis). An idea was entertained of making a settlement on one of them, and in 1769 an officer with a few men were stationed there for some months, during which period the rains were incessant. The scheme was afterwards abandoned as unlikely to answer any useful purpose.
The name Pulo Sanding or Sandiang refers to two small islands located near the southeastern tip of the Nassau or Pagi islands, which are sometimes considered part of that group. The southernmost island is noted in Dutch maps as Laag, meaning low, while the other is called Bergen, meaning hilly. Both islands are uninhabited, and the only notable resources are the long nutmeg that grows wild there and some quality timber, especially a type known as marbau (Metrosideros amboinensis). There was once an idea to establish a settlement on one of the islands, and in 1769, an officer and a few men were stationed there for several months, during which the rains were relentless. The plan was eventually scrapped as it seemed unlikely to serve any practical purpose.
NASSAUS OR PULO PAGI.
Nassau or Pulo Pagi.
The two islands separated by a narrow strait, to which the Dutch navigators have given the name of the Nassaus, are called by the Malays Pulo Pagi or Pagei, and by us commonly the Poggies. The race of people by whom these as well as some other islands to the northward of them are inhabited having the appellation of orang mantawei, this has been confounded with the proper names of the islands, and, being applied sometimes to one and sometimes to another, has occasioned much confusion and uncertainty. The earliest accounts we have of them are the reports of Mr. Randolph Marriot in 1749, and of Mr. John Saul in 1750 and 1751, with Captain Thomas Forrest's observations in 1757, preserved in Mr. Dalrymple's Historical Relation of the several Expeditions from Fort Marlborough to the Islands adjacent to the West-coast of Sumatra; but by much the most satisfactory information is contained in a paper communicated by Mr. John Crisp to the Asiatic Society of Bengal, in the sixth volume of whose Transactions it is published, and from these documents I shall extract such particulars as may best serve to convey a knowledge of the country and the people.
The two islands separated by a narrow strait, which Dutch navigators named the Nassaus, are referred to by the Malays as Pulo Pagi or Pagei, and by us commonly as the Poggies. The people living on these islands, as well as some others to the north, are known as orang mantawei. This term has often been mixed up with the names of the islands, leading to confusion and uncertainty as it has been applied to different islands at different times. The earliest accounts we have of them come from Mr. Randolph Marriot in 1749, Mr. John Saul in 1750 and 1751, and Captain Thomas Forrest's observations in 1757, which are preserved in Mr. Dalrymple's Historical Relation of the several Expeditions from Fort Marlborough to the Islands adjacent to the West-coast of Sumatra. However, the most reliable information comes from a paper shared by Mr. John Crisp with the Asiatic Society of Bengal, published in the sixth volume of their Transactions. From these documents, I will extract the details that best help to understand the country and its people.
Mr. Crisp sailed from Fort Marlborough on the 12th of August 1792 in a vessel navigated at his own expense, and with no other view than that of gratifying a liberal curiosity. On the 14th he anchored in the straits of See Cockup (Si Kakap), which divide the Northern from the Southern Pagi. These straits are about two miles in length and a quarter of a mile over, and make safe riding for ships of any size, which lie perfectly secure from every wind, the water being literally as smooth as in a pond. The high land of Sumatra (inland of Moco-moco and Ipu) was plainly to be distinguished from thence. In the passage are scattered several small islands, each of which consists of one immense rock, and which may have been originally connected with the main island. The face of the country is rough and irregular, consisting of high hills of sudden and steep ascent, and covered with trees to their summits, among which the species called bintangur or puhn, fit for the largest masts, abounds. The sago-tree grows in plenty, and constitutes the chief article of food to the inhabitants, who do not cultivate rice. The use of betel is unknown to them. Coconut-trees, bamboos, and the common fruits of Sumatra are found here. The woods are impervious to man: the species of wild animals that inhabit them but few; the large red deer, hogs, and several kinds of monkey, but neither buffaloes nor goats; nor are they infested with tigers or other beasts of prey; They have the common domestic fowl, but pork and fish are the favourite animal food of the natives.
Mr. Crisp set sail from Fort Marlborough on August 12, 1792, in a ship he funded himself, motivated solely by a genuine curiosity. By August 14, he had anchored in the straits of See Cockup (Si Kakap), which separate the Northern and Southern Pagi. These straits are approximately two miles long and a quarter of a mile wide, providing safe anchorage for ships of all sizes, completely sheltered from all winds, with water that is as calm as a pond. The high land of Sumatra, situated inland from Moco-moco and Ipu, was clearly visible from there. Throughout the passage, several small islands speckle the landscape, each one made up of a massive rock and likely once connected to the main island. The land itself is rugged and uneven, characterized by steep hills that rise sharply, covered in trees all the way to their peaks, including the bintangur or puhn species, which is suitable for the largest masts. The sago tree grows abundantly here and serves as the primary food source for the locals, who do not grow rice. They are unfamiliar with the use of betel. Coconut trees, bamboo, and common fruits of Sumatra are present in the area. The forests are dense and difficult to navigate; the types of wild animals that live there are few, including large red deer, hogs, and several types of monkeys, but no buffaloes or goats. Additionally, they are not home to tigers or other predatory beasts. The locals keep domestic chickens, but pork and fish are their preferred sources of meat.
When the vessel had been two days at anchor they began to come down from their villages in their canoes, bringing fruit of various kinds, and on invitation they readily came on board without showing signs of apprehension or embarrassment. On presenting to them plates of boiled rice they would not touch it until it had been previously tasted by one of the ship's company. They behaved whilst on board with much decorum, showed a strong degree of curiosity, but not the least disposition for pilfering. They appeared to live in great friendship and harmony with each other, and voluntarily divided amongst their companions what was given to them. Their stature seldom exceeds five feet and a half. Their colour is like that of the Malays, a light brown or copper-colour. Some canoes came alongside the vessel with only women in them, and upon being encouraged by the men several ventured on board. When on the water they use a temporary dress to shield them from the heat of the sun, made of the leaves of the plantain, of which they form a sort of conical cap (the same was observed of the women of Engano), and there is also a broad piece of the leaf fastened round the body over their breasts, and another round their waist. This leaf readily splits, and has the appearance of a coarse fringe. When in their villages the women, like the men, wear only a small piece of coarse cloth, made of the bark of a tree, round their middle. Beads and other ornaments are worn about the neck. Although coconuts are in such plenty they have not the use of oil, and their hair, which is black, and naturally long, is, for want of it and the use of combs, in general matted and full of vermin. They have a method of filing or grinding their teeth to a point, like the people of Sumatra.
After the ship had been anchored for two days, people started coming down from their villages in canoes, bringing various kinds of fruit. When invited, they gladly boarded the ship, showing no signs of fear or embarrassment. When offered plates of boiled rice, they wouldn't eat until one of the crew had tasted it first. While on board, they behaved very respectfully, displayed a strong curiosity, but had no tendency to steal. They seemed to live in great friendship and harmony with one another, willingly sharing what was given to them. Their height rarely exceeds five feet six inches. Their skin color is similar to that of Malays, a light brown or copper tone. Some canoes approached the ship carrying only women, and encouraged by the men, several of them decided to come on board. While on the water, they wore a temporary garment to protect themselves from the sun, made from plantain leaves, shaped into a kind of conical cap (the same was noted about the women of Engano), along with a broad piece of the leaf wrapped around their bodies above the breasts, and another piece around their waists. This leaf easily splits and has a coarse fringe appearance. In their villages, the women, like the men, wear just a small piece of rough cloth made from tree bark around their waists. They adorn themselves with beads and other jewelry around their necks. Although coconuts are abundant, they don’t use oil, and their naturally long, black hair is generally matted and infested with bugs due to the lack of oil and combs. They also have a method of filing or grinding their teeth to a point, similar to the people of Sumatra.
The number of inhabitants of the two islands is supposed not to exceed 1400 persons. They are divided into small tribes, each occupying a small river and living in one village. On the southern island are five of these villages, and on the northern seven, of which Kakap is accounted the chief, although Labu-labu is supposed to contain the greater number of people. Their houses are built of bamboos and raised on posts; the under part is occupied by poultry and hogs, and, as may be supposed, much filth is collected there. Their arms consist of a bow and arrows. The former is made of the nibong-tree, and the string of the entrails of some animal. The arrows are of small bamboo, headed with brass or with a piece of hard wood cut to a point. With these they kill deer, which are roused by dogs of a mongrel breed, and also monkeys, whose flesh they eat. Some among them wear krises. It was said that the different tribes of orang mantawei who inhabit these islands never make war upon each other, but with people of islands to the northward they are occasionally in a state of hostility. The measurement of one of their war-canoes, preserved with great care under a shed, was twenty-five feet in the length of the floor, the prow projecting twenty-two, and the stern eighteen, making the whole length sixty-five feet. The greatest breadth was five feet, and the depth three feet eight inches. For navigating in their rivers and the straits of Si Kakap, where the sea is as smooth as glass, they employ canoes, formed with great neatness of a single tree, and the women and young children are extremely expert in the management of the paddle. They are strangers to the use of coin of any kind, and have little knowledge of metals. The iron bill or chopping-knife, called parang, is in much esteem among them, it serves as a standard for the value of other commodities, such as articles of provision.
The population of the two islands is said to be no more than 1,400 people. They are split into small tribes, each living by a river in its own village. The southern island has five villages, while the northern one has seven, with Kakap considered the chief village, even though Labu-labu is believed to have more residents. Their homes are made from bamboo and elevated on posts; the space underneath is used for poultry and pigs, which, as you can imagine, collects a lot of waste. Their weapons consist of bows and arrows. The bows are made from the nibong tree, and the strings are made from animal intestines. The arrows are crafted from small bamboo, tipped with brass or sharpened hard wood. They use these to hunt deer, which are chased by mixed-breed dogs, as well as monkeys, which they eat. Some people among them wear krises. It’s said that the various tribes of orang mantawei living on these islands never fight each other, but they occasionally have conflicts with people from the islands to the north. One of their war canoes, carefully kept under a shed, measures twenty-five feet along the floor, with the prow extending twenty-two feet and the stern eighteen feet, making the total length sixty-five feet. Its widest point is five feet, and it’s three feet eight inches deep. For navigating their rivers and the calm waters of Si Kakap, they use canoes made expertly from a single tree, and women and young children are very skilled at paddling. They do not use any form of currency and have limited knowledge of metals. The iron knife, called parang, is highly valued among them and serves as a reference for the worth of other goods, including food items.
The religion of these people, if it deserves the name, resembles much what has been described of the Battas; but their mode of disposing of their dead is different, and analogous rather to the practice of the Southsea islanders, the corpse, being deposited on a sort of stage in a place appropriated for the purpose, and with a few leaves strewed over it, is left to decay. Inheritance is by male descent; the house or plantation, the weapons and tools of the father, become the property of the sons. Their chiefs are but little distinguished from the rest of the community by authority or possessions, their pre-eminence being chiefly displayed at public entertainments, of which they do the honours. They have not even judicial powers, all disputes being settled, and crimes adjudged, by a meeting of the whole village. Murder is punishable by retaliation, for which purpose the offender is delivered over to the relations of the deceased, who may put him to death; but the crime is rare. Theft, when to a considerable amount, is also capital. In cases of adultery the injured husband has a right to seize the effects of the paramour, and sometimes punishes his wife by cutting off her hair. When the husband offends the wife has a right to quit him and to return to her parents' house. Simple fornication between unmarried persons is neither considered as a crime nor a disgrace. The state of slavery is unknown among these people, and they do not practise circumcision.
The religion of these people, if it can be called that, is quite similar to what has been described about the Battas; however, their way of handling the dead is different and more like the practices of South Sea islanders. The body is placed on a kind of platform in a designated area, covered with a few leaves, and left to decompose. Inheritance is passed down through the male line; the house or farm, as well as the father’s weapons and tools, become the sons' property. Their chiefs are not significantly different from the rest of the community in terms of authority or possessions, with their status mainly expressed during public events, where they host the gatherings. They don’t have any judicial powers; all disputes and crimes are resolved by a gathering of the whole village. Murder is punishable by retaliation, meaning the offender is handed over to the deceased’s relatives, who can kill him; however, this crime is rare. Serious theft is also punishable by death. In cases of adultery, the wronged husband can take the belongings of the lover, and sometimes he punishes his wife by cutting her hair. If the husband commits an offense, the wife has the right to leave him and return to her parents' home. Casual sex between unmarried people isn't considered a crime or a shame. There is no slavery among these people, and they do not practice circumcision.
The custom of tattooing, or imprinting figures on the skin, is general among the inhabitants of this group of islands. They call it in their language teetee or titi. They begin to form these marks on boys at seven years of age, and fill them up as they advance in years. Mr. Crisp thinks they were originally intended as marks of military distinction. The women have a star imprinted on each shoulder, and generally some small marks on the backs of their hands. These punctures are made with an instrument consisting of a brass wire fixed perpendicularly into a piece of stick about eight inches in length. The pigment made use of is the smoke collected from dammar, mixed with water (or, according to another account, with the juice of the sugar-cane). The operator takes a stalk of dried grass, or a fine piece of stick, and, dipping the end in the pigment, traces on the skin the outline of the figure, and then, dipping the brass point in the same preparation, with very quick and light strokes of a long, small stick, drives it into the skin, whereby an indelible mark is produced. The pattern when completed is in all the individuals nearly the same.
The practice of tattooing, or marking designs on the skin, is common among the people of this group of islands. They call it "teetee" or "titi" in their language. They start creating these marks on boys when they are seven years old and add to them as they grow older. Mr. Crisp believes these tattoos were originally meant as marks of military honor. Women have a star tattooed on each shoulder and usually some small designs on the backs of their hands. These marks are made with a tool consisting of a brass wire attached vertically to a stick about eight inches long. The ink used is created from smoke collected from dammar, mixed with water (or, according to another source, with sugar-cane juice). The tattoo artist takes a dried grass stalk or a thin stick, dips the end in the ink, draws the outline of the design on the skin, and then, using a brass point dipped in the same ink, applies quick and light strokes with a long, thin stick to pierce the skin, creating a permanent mark. The finished design is nearly identical across all individuals.
In the year 1783 the son of a raja of one of the Pagi islands came over to Sumatra on a visit of curiosity, and, being an intelligent man, much information was obtained from him. He could give some account of almost every island that lies off the coast, and when a doubt arose about their position he ascertained it by taking the rind of a pumplenose or shaddock, and, breaking it into bits of different sizes, disposing them on the floor in such a manner as to convey a clear idea of the relative situation. He spoke of Engano (by what name is not mentioned) and said that their boats were sometimes driven to that island, on which occasions they generally lost a part, if not the whole, of their crews, from the savage disposition of the natives. He appeared to be acquainted with several of the constellations, and gave names for the Pleiades, Scorpion, Great Bear, and Orion's Belt. He understood the distinction between the fixed and wandering stars, and particularly noticed Venus, which he named usutat-si-geb-geb or planet of the evening. To Sumatra he gave the appellation of Seraihu. As to religion he said the rajas alone prayed and sacrificed hogs and fowls. They addressed themselves in the first place to the Power above the sky; next to those in the moon, who are male and female; and lastly, to that evil being whose residence is beneath the earth, and is the cause of earthquakes. A drawing of this man, representing accurately the figures in which his body and limbs were tattooed, was made by Colonel Trapaud, and obligingly given to me. He not only stood patiently during the performance, but seemed much pleased with the execution, and proposed that the Colonel should accompany him to his country to have an opportunity of making a likeness of his father. To our collectors of rare prints it is well known that there exists an engraving of a man of this description by the title of The Painted Prince, brought to England by Captain Dampier from one of the islands of the eastern sea in the year 1691, and of whom a particular account is given in his Voyage. He said that the inhabitants of the Pagi islands derived their origin from the orang mantawei of the island called Si Biru.
In 1783, the son of a raja from one of the Pagi islands visited Sumatra out of curiosity. He was an intelligent man and shared a lot of information. He could describe almost every island off the coast, and when there was uncertainty about their locations, he would take the rind of a pumplenose or shaddock, break it into pieces of different sizes, and arrange them on the floor to clearly illustrate their relative positions. He talked about Engano (the name isn’t mentioned) and said that their boats were sometimes carried to that island, and during those times, they usually lost part, if not all, of their crews due to the aggressive nature of the natives. He seemed knowledgeable about several constellations and mentioned the Pleiades, Scorpion, Great Bear, and Orion’s Belt. He understood the difference between fixed and wandering stars, particularly noted Venus, which he called usutat-si-geb-geb or planet of the evening. He referred to Sumatra as Seraihu. Regarding religion, he mentioned that only the rajas prayed and sacrificed pigs and chickens. They first addressed the Power above the sky, then the beings in the moon, both male and female, and finally, the evil spirit that lives underground and causes earthquakes. Colonel Trapaud made a drawing of this man, accurately showing the designs of his tattoos, and kindly provided it to me. He not only stood patiently for the drawing but also seemed pleased with it and suggested that the Colonel should visit his country to create a likeness of his father. As collectors of rare prints know, there is an engraving of a man like this called The Painted Prince, which Captain Dampier brought to England from one of the eastern sea islands in 1691, and a detailed account is found in his Voyage. He mentioned that the people of the Pagi islands are descended from the orang mantawei from the island called Si Biru.
SI PORAH OR GOOD FORTUNE.
SI PORAH OR GOOD VIBES.
North-westward of the Pagi islands, and at no great distance, lies that of Si Porah, commonly denominated Good Fortune Island, inhabited by the same race as the former, and with the same manners and language. The principal towns or villages are named Si Porah, containing, when visited by Mr. John Saul in 1750, three hundred inhabitants, Si Labah three hundred (several of whom were originally from the neighbouring island of Nias), Si Bagau two hundred, and Si Uban a smaller number; and when Captain Forrest made his inquiries in 1757 there was not any material variation. Since that period, though the island has been occasionally visited, it does not appear that any report has been preserved of the state of the population. The country is described as being entirely covered with wood. The highest land is in the vicinity of Si Labah.
To the northwest of the Pagi islands, not far away, lies Si Porah, commonly known as Good Fortune Island. It’s inhabited by the same people as the Pagi islands, sharing the same customs and language. The main towns or villages are called Si Porah, which had about three hundred residents when Mr. John Saul visited in 1750, Si Labah with three hundred (many of whom originally came from the nearby island of Nias), Si Bagau with two hundred, and Si Uban with a smaller population. When Captain Forrest inquired in 1757, there were no significant changes in these numbers. Since then, although the island has been visited occasionally, there doesn't seem to be any record of the population's status. The land is described as being completely covered in forest, with the highest ground located near Si Labah.
SI BIRU.
BLUE SUGAR.
The next island in the same direction is named Si Biru, which, although of considerable size, being larger than Si Porah, has commonly been omitted in our charts, or denoted to be uncertain. It is inhabited by the Mantawei race, and the natives both of Si Porah and the Pagi Islands consider it as their parent country, but notwithstanding this connexion they are generally in a state of hostility, and in 1783 no intercourse subsisted between them. The inhabitants are distinguished only by some small variety of the patterns in which their skins are tattooed, those of Si Biru having them narrower on the breast and broader on the shoulders. The island itself is rendered conspicuous by a volcanomountain.
The next island in the same direction is called Si Biru, which, despite being sizable and larger than Si Porah, is often left out of our maps or marked as uncertain. It's home to the Mantawei people, and both the natives of Si Porah and the Pagi Islands consider it their ancestral land. However, even with this connection, they are generally in conflict, and in 1783, there was no communication between them. The inhabitants are only recognized by slight differences in the tattoo patterns on their skin, with those from Si Biru having narrower tattoos on their chests and wider ones on their shoulders. The island itself is notable for its volcanic mountain.
PULO BATU.
PULOBATU.
Next to this is Pulo Batu, situated immediately to the southward of the equinoctial line, and, in consequence of an original mistake in Valentyn's erroneous chart, published in 1726, usually called by navigators Mintaon, being a corruption of the word Mantawei, which, as already explained, is appropriated to a race inhabiting the islands of Si Biru, Si Porah, and Pagi. Batu, on the contrary, is chiefly peopled by a colony from Nias. These pay a yearly tax to the raja of Buluaro, a small kampong in the interior part of the island, belonging to a race different from both, and whose number it is said amounts only to one hundred, which it is not allowed to exceed, so many children being reared as may replace the deaths. They are reported to bear a resemblance to the people of Makasar or Bugis, and may have been adventurers from that quarter. The influence of their raja over the Nias inhabitants, who exceed his immediate subjects in the proportion of twenty to one, is founded on the superstitious belief that the water of the island will become salt when they neglect to pay the tax. He in his turn, being in danger from the power of the Malay traders who resort thither from Padang and are not affected by the same superstition, is constrained to pay them to the amount of sixteen ounces of gold as an annual tribute.
Next to this is Pulo Batu, located just south of the equator. Due to an original mistake in Valentyn's incorrect chart published in 1726, navigators often refer to it as Mintaon, which is a mispronunciation of Mantawei— a term used for a group of people living on the islands of Si Biru, Si Porah, and Pagi. In contrast, Batu is mainly populated by a community from Nias. They pay an annual tax to the raja of Buluaro, a small village in the island's interior, which is inhabited by a different ethnic group. It’s said that there are only about one hundred of them, and their population cannot exceed that number, as they can only raise enough children to replace those who die. They are reported to resemble the people from Makasar or Bugis and may have originally come from that region. The raja's influence over the Nias people, who outnumber his direct subjects by twenty to one, stems from a superstitious belief that the island's water will turn salty if they fail to pay the tax. However, he himself is at risk from the Malay traders who come from Padang and do not share this superstition; he is therefore forced to pay them an annual tribute of sixteen ounces of gold.
The food of the people, as in the other islands, is chiefly sago, and their exports coconuts, oil in considerable quantities, and swala or seaslugs. No rice is planted there, nor, if we may trust to the Malayan accounts, suffered to be imported. Upon the same authority also we are told that the island derives its name of Batu from a large rock resembling the hull of a vessel, which tradition states to be a petrifaction of that in which the Buluaro people arrived. The same fanciful story of a petrified boat is prevalent in the Serampei country of Sumatra. From Natal Hill Pulo Batu is visible. Like the islands already described it is entirely covered with wood.
The main food source for the people, like in other islands, is primarily sago, while their exports include coconuts, a significant amount of oil, and swala or sea slugs. No rice is cultivated there, and, according to Malayan accounts, it isn’t allowed to be imported either. The same source tells us that the island got its name, Batu, from a large rock that looks like the hull of a ship, which legend claims is the petrified remains of the vessel that brought the Buluaro people. A similar story about a petrified boat is common in the Serampei region of Sumatra. Pulo Batu can be seen from Natal Hill. Like the other islands mentioned, it is completely covered in forest.
PULO KAPINI.
PULO KAPINI.
Between Pulo Batu and the coast of Sumatra, but much nearer to the latter, is a small uninhabited island, called Pulo Kapini (iron-wood island), but to which our charts (copying from Valentyn) commonly give the name of Batu, whilst to Batu itself, as above described, is assigned the name of Mintaon. In confirmation of the distinctions here laid down it will be thought sufficient to observe that, when the Company's packet, the Greyhound, lay at what was called Lant's Bay in Mintaon, an officer came to our settlement of Natal (of which Mr. John Marsden at that time was chief) in a Batu oil-boat; and that a large trade for oil is carried on from Padang and other places with the island of Batu, whilst that of Kapini is known to be without inhabitants, and could not supply the article.
Between Pulo Batu and the coast of Sumatra, much closer to the latter, there's a small uninhabited island called Pulo Kapini (iron-wood island), but our maps (copying from Valentyn) usually refer to it as Batu, while the name Mintaon is assigned to Batu itself, as described above. To support the distinctions made here, it's enough to note that when the Company's ship, the Greyhound, was docked at what was called Lant's Bay in Mintaon, an officer came to our settlement of Natal (which Mr. John Marsden was leading at the time) in a Batu oil boat; and that a large oil trade is conducted from Padang and other locations with the island of Batu, while Kapini is known to be uninhabited and cannot supply the product.
PULO NIAS.
Pulo Nias.
The most productive and important, if not the largest of this chain of islands, is Pulo Nias. Its inhabitants are very numerous, and of a race distinct not only from those on the main (for such we must relatively consider Sumatra), but also from the people of all the islands to the southward, with the exception of the last-mentioned. Their complexions, especially the women, are lighter than those of the Malays; they are smaller in their persons and shorter in stature; their mouths are broad, noses very flat, and their ears are pierced and distended in so extraordinary a manner as nearly, in many instances, to touch the shoulders, particularly when the flap has, by excessive distension or by accident, been rent asunder; but these pendulous excrescences are commonly trimmed and reduced to the ordinary size when they are brought away from their own country. Preposterous however as this custom may appear, it is not confined to the Nias people. Some of the women of the inland parts of Sumatra, in the vicinity of the equinoctial line (especially those of the Rau tribes) increase the perforation of their ears until they admit ornaments of two or three inches diameter. There is no circumstance by which the natives of this island are more obviously distinguished than the prevalence of a leprous scurf with which the skins of a great proportion of both sexes are affected; in some cases covering the whole of the body and limbs, and in others resembling rather the effect of the tetter or ringworm, running like that partial complaint in waving lines and concentric curves. It is seldom if ever radically cured, although by external applications (especially in the slighter cases) its symptoms are moderated, and a temporary smoothness given to the skin; but it does not seem in any stage of the disease to have a tendency to shorten life, or to be inconsistent with perfect health in other respects, nor is there reason to suppose it infectious; and it is remarkable that the inhabitants of Pulo Batu, who are evidently of the same race, are exempt from this cutaneous malady. The principal food of the common people is the sweet-potato, but much pork is also eaten by those who can afford it, and the chiefs make a practice of ornamenting their houses with the jaws of the hogs, as well as the skulls of the enemies whom they slay. The cultivation of rice has become extensive in modern times, but rather as an article of traffic than of home consumption.
The most productive and significant, if not the largest, of this chain of islands is Pulo Nias. Its population is quite large and distinct not only from those on the mainland (which we must consider to be Sumatra) but also from the people of all the islands to the south, except for the ones mentioned earlier. Their skin tones, especially among the women, are lighter than those of the Malays; they tend to be smaller in body size and shorter in height. Their mouths are broad, their noses very flat, and their ears are pierced and stretched in such an unusual way that, in many cases, they nearly touch the shoulders, especially when the ear flap has been torn due to excessive stretching or by accident; however, these hanging pieces are usually trimmed down to a normal size when they leave their own country. As strange as this custom may seem, it’s not unique to the Nias people. Some women in the inland areas of Sumatra, near the equator (especially those from the Rau tribes), enlarge their ear piercings until they can wear ornaments that are two or three inches in diameter. One of the most obvious distinguishing features of the natives of this island is the prevalence of a leprous peeling skin condition that affects a significant number of both men and women; in some cases, it covers the entire body and limbs, while in others, it resembles the effects of scabies or ringworm, appearing as wavy lines and concentric curves. It is rarely, if ever, completely cured, though external treatments (particularly for milder cases) can alleviate symptoms and temporarily smooth the skin; however, it does not seem to shorten life or impact overall health, and there is no reason to believe it is contagious. Interestingly, the residents of Pulo Batu, who are obviously of the same race, do not suffer from this skin condition. The main food for the common people is sweet potatoes, but pork is also consumed by those who can afford it. The chiefs often decorate their homes with hog jaws and the skulls of their slain enemies. Recently, rice cultivation has expanded significantly, but more for trade than for local consumption.
These people are remarkable for their docility and expertness in handicraft work, and become excellent house-carpenters and joiners, and as an instance of their skill in the arts they practise that of letting blood by cupping, in a mode nearly similar to ours. Among the Sumatrans blood is never drawn with so salutary an intent. They are industrious and frugal, temperate and regular in their habits, but at the same time avaricious, sullen, obstinate, vindictive, and sanguinary. Although much employed as domestic slaves (particularly by the Dutch) they are always esteemed dangerous in that capacity, a defect in their character which philosophers will not hesitate to excuse in an independent people torn by violence from their country and connexions. They frequently kill themselves when disgusted with their situation or unhappy in their families, and often their wives at the same time, who appeared, from the circumstances under which they were found, to have been consenting to the desperate act. They were both dressed in their best apparel (the remainder being previously destroyed), and the female, in more than one instance that came under notice, had struggled so little as not to discompose her hair or remove her head from the pillow. It is said that in their own country they expose their children by suspending them in a bag from a tree, when they despair of being able to bring them up. The mode seems to be adopted with the view of preserving them from animals of prey, and giving them a chance of being saved by persons in more easy circumstances.
These people are notable for their willingness to learn and their skill in crafts, becoming excellent carpenters and joiners. One example of their craftsmanship is their method of bloodletting by cupping, which is quite similar to ours. However, among the Sumatrans, blood isn't drawn for health reasons. They are hardworking and thrifty, disciplined and consistent in their lifestyles, but they can also be greedy, moody, stubborn, vengeful, and violent. Although many are employed as domestic servants (especially by the Dutch), they are often considered dangerous in that role—a trait in their character that philosophers might excuse, given that they come from a people that has been violently uprooted from their homeland and connections. They often take their own lives when they become dissatisfied with their situation or unhappy in their families, and sometimes, their wives seem to willingly participate in this tragic decision. In several cases, both were found dressed in their best clothes (with the rest already destroyed), and the woman, in more than one instance observed, had shown so little struggle that her hair remained intact and her head was still on the pillow. It is said that in their homeland, they abandon their children by hanging them in a bag from a tree when they feel incapable of raising them. This method appears to be intended to protect the children from predatory animals and provide them a chance to be rescued by someone in a better position.
The island is divided into about fifty small districts, under chiefs or rajas who are independent of, and at perpetual variance with, each other; the ultimate object of their wars being to make prisoners, whom they sell for slaves, as well as all others not immediately connected with them, whom they can seize by stratagem. These violences are doubtless encouraged by the resort of native traders from Padang, Natal, and Achin to purchase cargoes of slaves, who are also accused of augmenting the profits of their voyage by occasionally surprising and carrying off whole families. The number annually exported is reckoned at four hundred and fifty to Natal, and one hundred and fifty to the northern ports (where they are said to be employed by the Achinese in the gold-mines), exclusive of those which go to Padang for the supply of Batavia, where the females are highly valued and taught music and various accomplishments. In catching these unfortunate victims of avarice it is supposed that not fewer than two hundred are killed; and if the aggregate be computed at one thousand it is a prodigious number to be supplied from the population of so small an island.
The island is split into about fifty small districts, led by chiefs or rajas who are independent of each other and constantly in conflict. The main goal of their wars is to capture prisoners, whom they sell as slaves, along with anyone else they can take by cunning. These acts of violence are likely fueled by local traders from Padang, Natal, and Achin, who come to buy slave cargoes and are accused of boosting their profits by kidnapping entire families. Each year, about four hundred and fifty slaves are exported to Natal, and one hundred and fifty to the northern ports (where they are said to work in the gold mines for the Achinese), not counting those sent to Padang to supply Batavia, where women are highly prized and taught music and various skills. It is believed that in capturing these unfortunate victims, at least two hundred are killed, and if the total is around one thousand, that's an enormous number of people to come from such a small island.
Beside the article of slaves there is a considerable export of padi and rice, the cultivation of which is chiefly carried on at a distance from the sea-coasts, whither the natives retire to be secure from piratical depredations, bringing down the produce to the harbours (of which there are several good ones), to barter with the traders for iron, steel, beads, tobacco, and the coarser kinds of Madras and Surat piece-goods. Numbers of hogs are reared, and some parts of the main, especially Barus, are supplied from hence with yams, beans, and poultry. Some of the rajas are supposed to have amassed a sum equal to ten or twenty thousand dollars, which is kept in ingots of gold and silver, much of the latter consisting of small Dutch money (not the purest coin) melted down; and of these they make an ostentatious display at weddings and other festivals.
Alongside the slave trade, there's a significant export of rice and padi, which is mainly grown far from the coast, where locals retreat to avoid pirate attacks. They bring their crops to the harbors, which are numerous and good, to trade with merchants for iron, steel, beads, tobacco, and coarse textiles from Madras and Surat. Many pigs are raised here, and certain areas, especially Barus, supply yams, beans, and poultry. Some local rajas are believed to have accumulated wealth equivalent to ten or twenty thousand dollars, stored in gold and silver ingots, with much of the silver being melted down Dutch coins (not the purest). They flaunt this wealth at weddings and other celebrations.
The language scarcely differs more from the Batta and the Lampong than these do from each other, and all evidently belong to the same stock. The pronunciation is very guttural, and either from habit or peculiar conformation of organs these people cannot articulate the letter p, but in Malayan words, where the sound occurs, pronounce it as f (saying for example Fulo Finang instead of Pulo Pinang), whilst on the contrary the Malays never make use of the f, and pronounce as pikir the Arabic word fikir. Indeed the Arabians themselves appear to have the same organic defect as the people of Nias, and it may likewise be observed in the languages of some of the South-sea islands.
The language is not much different from Batta and Lampong, just as those two languages are quite similar to each other, and they all clearly come from the same origin. The pronunciation is very guttural, and either due to habit or the unique formation of their speech organs, these people can’t pronounce the letter "p." Instead, in Malayan words where "p" appears, they say it as "f" (for example, they say "Fulo Finang" instead of "Pulo Pinang"). On the other hand, Malays don’t use "f" at all and pronounce the Arabic word "fikir" as "pikir." In fact, it seems that the Arabs also have the same speech issue as the people of Nias, and this can also be seen in the languages of some South Sea islands.
PULO NAKO-NAKO.
PULO NAKO-NAKO.
On the western side of Nias and very near to it is a cluster of small islands called Pulo Nako-nako, whose inhabitants (as well as others who shall presently be noticed) are of a race termed Maros or orang maruwi, distinct from those of the former, but equally fair-complexioned. Large quantities of coconut-oil are prepared here and exported chiefly to Padang, the natives having had a quarrel with the Natal traders. The islands are governed by a single raja, who monopolizes the produce, his subjects dealing only with him, and he with the praws or country vessels who are regularly furnished with cargoes in the order of their arrival, and never dispatched out of turn.
On the western side of Nias and very close to it is a group of small islands called Pulo Nako-nako, where the people (along with others who will be mentioned soon) are from a group known as Maros or orang maruwi, different from those on the main island, but also having a fair complexion. A large amount of coconut oil is produced here and mainly exported to Padang, as the locals have had a dispute with the Natal traders. The islands are ruled by a single raja, who controls the resources, with his subjects only able to trade with him. He, in turn, works with the praws or local boats that are regularly loaded with goods in the order they arrive, and never sent out of sequence.
PULO BABI.
Pork Island.
Pulo Babi or Hog island, called by the natives Si Malu, lies northwestward from Nias, and, like Nako-Nako, is inhabited by the Maruwi race. Buffaloes (and hogs, we may presume) are met with here in great plenty and sold cheap.
Pulo Babi, also known as Hog Island, called Si Malu by the locals, is located northwest of Nias, and is home to the Maruwi people, just like Nako-Nako. Buffaloes (and likely pigs, too) are found in abundance here and are sold at low prices.
PULO BANIAK.
PULO BANIAK.
The name of Pulo Baniak belongs to a cluster of islands (as the terms imply) situated to the eastward, or in-shore of Pulo Babi, and not far from the entrance of Singkel River. It is however most commonly applied to one of them which is considerably larger than the others. It does not appear to furnish any vegetable produce as an article of trade, and the returns from thence are chiefly sea-slug and the edible birds-nest. The inhabitants of these islands also are Maruwis, and, as well as the others of the same race, are now Mahometans. Their language, although considered by the natives of these parts as distinct and peculiar (which will naturally be the case where people do not understand each other's conversation), has much radical affinity to the Batta and Nias, and less to the Pagi; but all belong to the same class, and may be regarded as dialects of a general language prevailing amongst the original inhabitants of this eastern archipelago, as far at least as the Moluccas and Philippines.
The name Pulo Baniak refers to a group of islands located to the east, near Pulo Babi, and not far from the Singkel River entrance. However, it's most often associated with one island that is significantly larger than the others. This island doesn't seem to produce any vegetation that is traded, and the main goods obtained from there are sea slugs and edible bird nests. The people living on these islands are Maruwis, and like others of their ethnicity, they are now Muslims. Their language, while seen by locals as unique and distinct (which is typical when people can't understand each other), shares a lot of similarities with Batta and Nias, and less with Pagi; but they all belong to the same group and can be seen as dialects of a broader language common among the original inhabitants of this eastern archipelago, at least as far as the Moluccas and Philippines.
THE END.
INDEX.
Achin or Acheh: kingdom of, its boundaries. Situation, buildings, and appearance of the capital. Air esteemed healthy. Inhabitants described. Present state of commerce. Productions of soil, manufactures, navigation. Coin, government. Officers of state, ceremonies. Local division. Revenues, duties. Administration of justice and punishments. History of. State of the kingdom at the time when Malacca fell into the hands of the Portuguese. Circumstances which placed Ibrahim, a slave of the king of Pidir, on the throne. Rises to considerable importance during the reign of Mansur-shah. King of, receives a letter from Queen Elizabeth. Letter from King James the First. Commencement of female reigns. Their termination. Subsequent events. Achin Head: situation of. Address: custom of, in the third instead of the second person. Adultery: laws respecting. Agriculture. Air: temperature of. Ala-eddin: or Ula-eddin Shah, king of Achin, lays repeated siege to Malacca. His death. Alboquerque (Affonso d'): touches at Pidir and Pase in his voyage to Malacca. Alligators: Superstitious dread of. Amomum: different species of. Amusements. Anak-sungei: kingdom of. Ancestors: veneration for burying-places of. Animals: account of. Annals: Malayan, of the kingdom of Achin. Ants: variety and abundance of. White-ant. Arabian: travellers, mention Sumatra by the name of Ramni. Arabic: character, with modifications, used by the Malays. Arithmetic. Arsenic: yellow. Arts: and manufactures. Aru, kingdom of. Astronomy. Atap: covering for roofs of houses. Babi: island of. Bamboo: principal material for building. Account of the. Bangka: island of, its tin-mines. Baniak: islands of. Banyan: tree or jawi-jawi, its peculiarities. Bantam: city of. Expulsion of English from thence. Barbosa, (Odoardus): his account of Sumatra. Barthema (Ludovico): his visit to the island. Barus: a place chiefly remarkable for having given its name to the most valuable sort of camphor. Bats: various species of. Batta: country of. Its divisions. Mr. Miller's journey into it. Governments. Authority of the rajas. Succession. Persons, dress, and weapons of the inhabitants. Warfare. Fortified villages or kampongs. Trade, mode of holding fairs. Food. Buildings, domestic manners. Horse-racing. Books. Observations on their mode of writing. Religion. Mythology. Oaths. Funeral ceremonies. Crimes and punishments. Practice of eating human flesh. Motives for this custom. Mode of proceeding. Doubts obviated. Testimonies. Death of Mr. Nairne in the Batta country. Originality of manners preserved amongst this people, and its probable causes. Batu (Pulo). Batu Bara: river. Beards: practice of eradicating. Beasts. Beaulieu: commander of a French squadron at Achin. Beeswax. Bencoolen: river and town. Interior country visited. Account of first English establishment at. Benzoin: or benjamin, mode of procuring. Nature of the trade. Oil distilled from. Betel: practice of chewing. Preparation of. Betel-nut: or areca, see Pinang. Bintang: island of. Birds: Species which form the edible nests. Modes of catching. Birds-nest: edible, account of. Biru: island of. Blachang: species of caviar, mode of preparing. Blades: of krises. mode of damasking. Boulton (Mr. Matthew). Bread-fruit: or sukun. Breezes: land and sea. Braham (Mr. Philip). Broff (Mr. Robert). Buffalo: or karbau, description of the. Killed at festivals. Building: modes of, described. Bukit Lintang: a high range of hills inland of Moco-moco. Bukit Pandang: a high mountain inland of Ipu. Burying-places: ancient, veneration for. Chameleon: description of. Campbell (Mr. Charles). Camphor: or kapur barus, a valuable drug. Description of the tree. Mode of procuring it. Its price. Camphor-oil. Japan camphor. Cannibalism. Cannon: use of, previously to Portuguese discoveries. Carpenters' work. Carving. Cassia: description of the tree. Found in the Serampei, Musi, and Batta countries. Cattle: Laws respecting. Causes: or suits, mode of deciding. Caut-chouc: or elastic gum. Cements. Champaka: flower. Character: difference in respect of it, between the Malays and other Sumatrans. Characters: of Rejang, Batta, and Lampong languages. Charms. Chastity. Chess: game of, Malayan terms. Child-bearing. Children: treatment of. Chinese: colonists. Circumcision. Cloth: manufacture of. Clothing: materials of. Coal. Cock-fighting: strong propensity to this sport. Matches. Coconut-tree: an important object of cultivation. Does not bear fruit in the hill country. Codes: of laws. Remarks on. Coins: current in Sumatra. Commerce. Company (English East India): its influence. Permission given to it to settle a factory at Achin. Compass: irregularity of, noticed. Compensation: for murder, termed bangun. Complexion: fairness of, comparatively with other Indians. Darkness of, not dependent on climate. Confinement: modes of. Contracts: made with the chiefs of the country, for obliging their dependants to plant pepper. Conversion: to religion of Mahomet, period of. Cookery. Copper. Rich mine of. Coral rock. Corallines: collection of, in the possession of Mr. John Griffiths. Cosmetic: used, and mode of preparing it. Cotton: two species of, cultivated. Courtship. Crisp (Mr. John). Cultivation: of rice. Curry: dish or mode of cookery so called. Custard-apple. Cycas circinalis: (a palm-fern confounded with the sago-tree) described. Dalrymple (Mr. Alexander). Dammar: a species of resin or turpentine. Dancing: amusement of. Dare (Lieutenant Hastings). Journal of his expedition to the Serampei and Sungei-tenang countries. Datu: title of. Debts: and debtors, laws respecting. Deer: diminutive species of. Deity: name for the, borrowed by the Rejangs from the Malays. Dice. Diseases: modes of curing. Diversion: of tossing a ball. Divorces: laws respecting. Dragons'-blood: a drug, how procured. Dress: description of man's and woman's. Dupati: nature of title. Durian: fruit. Dusuns: or villages, description of. Duyong: or sea-cow. Dye-stuffs. Ears: ceremony of boring. Earthenware. Earth-oil. Earthquakes. Eating: mode of. Eclipses: notion respecting. Edrisi: his account of Sumatra by the name of Al-Rami. Elastic gum. Elephants. Elizabeth: Queen, addresses a letter to the king of Achin. Elopements: laws respecting. Emblematic presents. Engano: island of. English: their first visit to Sumatra. Settle a factory at Achin. Europeans: influence of. Evidence: rules of, and mode of giving. Expedition: to Serampei and Sungei-tenang countries. Fairs. Fencing. Fertility: of soil. Festivals. Feud: account of a remarkable one. Fevers: how treated by the natives. Filigree: manufacture of. Fire: modes of kindling. Necessary for warmth among the hills. Firearms: manufactured in Menangkabau. Firefly. Fish: Ikan layer, a remarkable species. Various kinds enumerated. Fishing: mode of. Fish-roes: preserved by salting. An article of trade. Flowers: description of. Foersch, (Mr.): his account of the poison-tree. Fogs: dense among the hills. Food. Fortification: mode of. Fort Marlborough: the chief English settlement on the coast of Sumatra. Establishment of. Reduced by Act of Parliament. French: settlement of Tappanuli taken by the, in the year 1760, and again in 1809, attended with circumstances of atrocity. Sent a fleet to Achin, under General Beaulieu. Fruits: description of. Funerals: ceremonies observed at. Furniture: of houses. Gambir: mode of preparing it for eating with betel. Gaming: laws respecting. Propensity for, and modes of. Geography: limited ideas of. Goitres: natives of the hills subject to. Disease not imputable to snow-water. In the Serampei country. Gold: island celebrated for its production of. Chiefly found in the Menangkabau country. Distinctions of. Mode of working the mines. Estimation of quantity procured. Price. Mode of cleansing. Weights. Government: Malayan. Grammar. Graves: form of. Griffiths, (Mr. John). Guana: or iguana, animal of the lizard kind. Guava: fruit. Gum-lac. Gunpowder: manufacture of. Hair: modes of dressing the. Heat: degree of. Hemp: or ganja, its inebriating qualities. Henna: of the Arabians used for tingeing the nails. Herbs: and shrubs used medicinally. Hills: inhabitants of, subject to goitres. Hippopotamus. History: of Malayan kings. Of Achinese. Hollanders: their first visit to Sumatra. Holloway, (Mr. Giles). Horse-racing: practised by the Battas. Horses: small breed of. Occasionally used in war. Eaten as food by the Battas. Hot springs. Houses: description of. Human flesh: eaten by the Battas. Iang de per-tuan: title of sovereignty. Ibrahim (otherwise, Saleh-eddin shah): king of Achin, his origin. Enmity to the Portuguese. Transactions of his reign, and death. Iju: a peculiar vegetable substance used for cordage. Ilhas d'Ouro: attempts of the Portuguese to discover them. Import-trade. Incest. Indalas: one of the Malayan names of Sumatra. Indigo: Broad-leafed or tarum akar. Indragiri: river of. Has its source in a lake of the Menangkabau country. Indrapura: kingdom of. Inhabitants: general distinctions of. Inheritance: rules of. Ink: manufacture of. Insanity. Insects: Various kinds of, enumerated. Instruments: musical. Interest: of money. Investiture. Ipu: river of. Sungei-ipu (a different river). Iron: Ore smelted. Manufactures of. Mines. Iskander Muda (Paduka Sri): king of Achin, receives a letter from king James the first, by Captain Best, and gives permission for establishing an English factory. Conquers Johor. Attacks Malacca with a great fleet. Receives an embassy from France. Again attacks Malacca. His death. Wealth and power. Islands: near the western coast, account of. Ivory. Jack: fruit. Jaggri: imperfect sort of sugar from a species of palm. Jambi: river of. Colonies settled on branches of it, for collecting gold. Has its source in the Limun country. Town of. Jambu: fruit. James the first: king, writes a letter to the king of Achin. Jeinal: sultan of Pase, his history. Johor: kingdom of. Kampar: river of. King of, negotiates with Alboquerque. Kampongs: or fortified villages. Kananga: flowering tree. Kapini: island of. Kasumba: name of, given to the carthamus and the bixa. Kataun: or Cattown, river of. Kima: or gigantic cockle. Koran. Korinchi: country. Mr. Campbell's visit to it. Situation of lake. Inhabitants and buildings. Food, articles of commerce, gold. Account of lepers. Peculiar plants. Character of the natives. Koto-tuggoh: a fortified village of the Sungeitenang country. Taken and destroyed. Krises: description of. Kroi: district of. Kulit-kayu: or coolicoy, the bark of certain trees used in building, and for other purposes. Kuwau: argus or Sumatran pheasant. Labun: district of. Lakes. Laksamana: a title equivalent to commander-in-chief. Lampong: country, limits of. Inhabitants, language, and governments. Wars. Account of a peculiar people, called orang abung. Manners and customs. Superstitions. Land: unevenness of its surface. Newformed. Rarely considered as the subject of property. Land: and sea breezes, causes of. Language: Nature of the Malayan. Of others spoken in Sumatra. Court. Specimens of. Batta. Nias. Lanseh: fruit. Laws: and customs. Compilation of. Laye: river and district of. Leeches: a small kind of, very troublesome on marches. Lemba: district, inhabitants of, similar to the Rejangs. Leprosy: account of. Lignum-aloes: or kalambac. Limun: district of. Gold-traders of. Literature. Lizards. Longitude: of Fort Marlborough, determined by observation. Looms: description of. Macdonald, (Lieutenant-colonel John). Mackenzie, (Mr. Kenneth). Madagascar: resemblance in customs of, to those of Sumatra. Mahmud shah Juhan (Ala-eddin). Mahometanism: period of conversion to. Maize: or jagong, cultivation of. Malacca: or Malaka, city of, when founded. Visited in 1509 by the Portuguese. In 1511 taken by them. Repeatedly attacked by the kings of Achin. In 1641 taken by the Hollanders. Malays: name of, applied to people of Menangkabau. Nearly synonymous with Mahometan, in these parts. Difference in character between Malays and other Sumatrans. Guards composed of. Origin of. Race of kings. Not strict in matters of religion. Governments of. Malayan: language. Malur: or Malati flower (nyctanthes). Mango: fruit, described. Mangustin: fruit, described. Manjuta: river and district of. English settlement at. Manna: district of. Mansalar: island of. Mansur shah: king of Achin, besieges Malacca, and is defeated. Renews the attack, without success. Again appears before it with a large fleet, and proceeds to the attack of Johor. Murdered when preparing to sail with a considerable expedition. Mantawei: name of race of people inhabiting certain islands. Manufactures. Marco Polo: his account of Sumatra, by the name of Java minor. Visited it about the year 1290. Marriage: modes of, and laws respecting. Rites of. Festivals. Consummation of. Marsden (Mr. John). Measures: of capacity and length. Measurement: of time. Medicinal: shrubs and herbs. Medicine: art of. Mega: island of. Menangkabau: kingdom of. History of, imperfectly known. Limits of. Rivers proceeding from it. Political decline. Early mention of it by travellers. Division of the government. Extraordinary respect paid to reigning family. Titles of the sultan. Remarks on them. Ceremonies. Conversion of people to the Mahometan religion. Antiquity of the empire more remote than that event. Sultan held in respect by the Battas. Metempsychosis: ideas of, as entertained by the Sumatrans. Miller (Mr. Charles). Minerals. Mines: gold. Copper. Iron. Missionaries: no attempt of, to convert the Sumatrans to Christianity, upon record. Moco-moco: in Anac-sungei, account of. Monkeys: various species of. Monsoons: causes of their change. Morinda: wood of, used for dyeing. Mountains: chain of, running along the island. Height of Mount Ophir or Gunong Passamman. High mountain called Bukit Pandang. Mucks: practice, nature, and causes of. Muhammed shah (Ala-eddin or Ula-eddin): succeeds Juhan shah as king of Achin. His turbulent reign, and death. Mukim: divisional district of the country of Achin. Mulberry. Murder: compensation for. Musi: district of. Music: Minor key preferred. Mythology: of the Battas. Nako-nako: islands of. Nalabu: port of. Name: of Sumatra, unknown to the Arabian geographers, and to Marco Polo. Various orthography of. Probably of Hindu origin. Names: when given to children. Distinctions of. Father often named from his child. Hesitate to pronounce their own. Natal: settlement of. Gold of fine quality procured in the country of. Governed by datus. Navigation. Nias: island of. Nibong: species of palm, description and uses of. Nicolo di Conti: his visit to Sumatra. Nutmegs: and cloves, first introduction of, by Mr. Robert Broff. Second importation. Success of the culture. Oaths: nature of, in legal proceedings. Collateral. Mode of administering. Amongst the Battas. Odoricus: his visit to the island of Sumoltra. Officers: of state, in Malayan governments. At Achin. Oil: earth-. Camphor-. Coconut-. Ophir: name of, not known to the natives. Height of Mount Ophir or Gunong Passamman. Opium: considerable importation of, from Bengal. Law respecting. Practice of smoking. Preparation of. Effects of. Oranges: various species of. Oratory: gift of, natural to the Sumatrans. Ornaments: worn. Padang: the principal Dutch settlement. Padang-guchi: river of. Padi: or rice, cultivation of upland. Of lowland. Transplantation of. Rate of produce. Threshing. Beating out. Paduka Sri: king of Achin, see Iskander Muda. Pagi (or Nassaus): islands of. Palembang: river of. Rises in the district of Musi, near Bencoolen river. Dutch factory on it. Description of country on its banks. Government. City of. Many foreign settlers. Language. Interior country visited by the English. Palma-christi. Pandan: shrub, its fragrant blossom. Pangeran: nature of title. Authority much limited. Pantun: or proverbial song. Papaw: fruit. Pase: kingdom of. Passamman: province of. Passummah: Legal customs of. Pawns: or pledges, law respecting. Pepper: principal object of the Company's trade. Cultivation of. Description of the plant. Progress of bearing. Time of gathering. Mode of drying. White pepper. Surveys of plantations. Transportation of. Percha (Pulo): one of the Malayan names of Sumatra. Perfume. Pergularia odoratissima: cultivated in England by Sir Joseph Banks. Persons: of the natives, description of. Pheasant: argus or Sumatran. Philippine: islands, customs and superstitions of, resembling those of Sumatra. Pidir: kingdom of. Pigafetta (Antonio): in his voyage appears the earliest specimen of a Malayan vocabulary. Pikul: weight. Pinang: areca, or, vulgarly, the betel-nut-tree, and fruit. Pinang (Pulo): island of. Pineapple. Piratical habits: of Malays. Plantain: or pisang. Varieties of the fruit. Pleading: mode of. Poetry: fondness of the natives for. Polishing: leaf. Polygamy: question of. Connexion between it and the practice of purchasing wives. Population. Porah: island of. Portuguese: expeditions of, rendered the island of Sumatra well known to Europeans. Their first visit to it, under Diogo Lopez de Sequeira. Transactions at Pidir, and Pase. Conquer Malacca. Sustain many attacks and sieges from kings of Achin. Potatoes: cultivated in the Korinchi country. Priaman: river and district of. Invitation to the English to form a settlement there. Puhn: or Poon, signifying tree in general, applied by Europeans to a particular species. Puhn-upas: or poison-tree, account of. Pulas: species of twine from the kaluwi nettle. Pulse: variety of. Pulo: or island. Pulo: point and bay. Punei-jambu: a beautiful species of dove. Punishments: corporal. Amongst the Battas. Amongst the Achinese. Quail-fighting. Queen: government of Achin devolves to a. Account of embassy from Madras to the. Radin: prince of Madura. Raffles (Mr. Thomas). Rakan: river or estuary. Rambutan: fruit. Ramni: name given to Sumatra by the Arabian geographers. Ranjaus: description of. Rapes: laws respecting. Rattan-cane: fruit of. Considerable export trade in. Rau: or Rawa country. Rayet shah (Ala-eddin): said to have been originally a fisherman, ascends the throne of Achin, having murdered the heir. During his reign the Hollanders first visited Achin. And also the English, under Captain (Sir James) Lancaster, who carried letters from Queen Elizabeth. At the age of ninety-five, confined by his son. Reaping: mode of. Rejang: people of, chosen as a standard for description of manners. Situation of the country. Divided into tribes. Their government. Religion: state of, amongst the Rejang. No ostensible worship. The word dewa applied to a class of invisible beings. Veneration for the tombs of their ancestors. Ancient religion of Malays. Motives for conversion to Mahometanism. Of the Battas. Reptiles. Rhinoceros. Rice: culture of. Distinctions of ladang or upland, and sawah or lowland. Sowing, mode of. Reaping, mode of. An article of trade. Rivers. Rock: species of soft. Coral. Rum: or Rome, for Constantinople. Sago-tree: or rambiya (confounded with the Cycas circinalis, a different tree), described. Salt: manufacture of. Saltpetre: Procured from certain caves. Sanding: islands or Pulo Sandiang. Sappan: wood. Scorpion: flower or anggrek kasturi. Sculpture: ancient. Sea: encroachments of. Sequeira (Diogo Lopez de): first Portuguese who visited Sumatra. Serampei: country. Villages, government, features of the women. Peculiar regulation. Further account of. Sesamum: or bijin, oil produced from. Sexes: mistaken ideas of a considerable inequality in the numbers of the two. Shellfish. Siak: river of. Survey of. Country on both sides flat and alluvial. Abundance of ship-timber. Government. Trade. Subdued by the king of Achin. Si Biru: island of. Silebar: river, and district of. Sileda: attempt to work a gold mine at. Silk-cotton (bombax). Singapura: city of, when founded. Singkel: river. Si Porah: or Good Fortune, island of. Situation: of the island, general account of. Slavery: state of, not common among the Rejangs. Condition of negro slaves at Fort Marlborough. Smallpox: its ravages. Snakes. Soil: described. Unevenness of surface. Fertility of. Songs: Singing. amusement of. Spices: see Nutmegs. Sugar: manufacture of. Imperfect sort, called jaggri. Sugar-cane, cultivation of. Suits: see Causes. Sulphur: Where procured. Sumatra: name probably of Hindu origin. Sungei-lamo and Sungei-itam: rivers. Sungei-tenang: country, account of. Superstitious opinions. Surf: Considerations respecting. Probable cause of. Surveys: of pepper plantations. Swala: or sea-slug, an article of trade. Swasa: a mixture of gold and copper so called. Tamarind: tree. Tanjong: flower. Tappanuli: celebrated bay of. Settlement on the island of Punchong kechil. Taken in 1760 by the French, and again in 1809. Taprobane: name of, applied to Sumatra in the middle ages. Teak: timber, its valuable qualities. Attempts to cultivate the tree. Teeth: mode of filing them. Sometimes plated with gold. Theft: laws respecting. Proof of, required. Thermometer: height of, at Fort Marlborough, and at Natal. So low as 45 degrees on a hill in the Ipu country. Threshing: mode of. Thunder: and lightning, very frequent. Effect of. Tides: At Siak. Flow to a great distance in rivers on eastern side of the island. Tiger: Ravages by this animal. Traps. Tiku: river and islands of. Timber: great variety of. Species enumerated. Time: manner of dividing. Tin: A considerable export of it to China. Titles. Tobacco: cultivation of. Toddy: or nira, how procured. Tools: for mining. Carpenters'. Torches: or links. Trade. Triste: island of, see Mega. Tulang-bawang: river. Turmeric. Upas: vegetable poison, account of. Urei: river of. Utensils: account of. Vegetable productions. Venereal disease. Villages: description of. Virgins: their distinguishing ornaments. Volcanoes: called gunong api, account of. Warfare: mode of. Waterfalls. Waterspout: account of. Wax: a considerable article of trade. Weapons. Weaving. Weights. Wens. White-ants. White pepper. Widows: laws respecting. Wilkins (Mr. Charles). Winds. Wives: number of. See Marriage. Worm-shell: or Teredo navalis. Wood: various species of. Woods: Mode of clearing. Wounds: laws respecting. Writing: On bark of tree, and on slips of bamboo. Specimens of. Yams: various roots under that denomination. Year: mode of estimating its length.
Achin or Acheh: kingdom of, its boundaries. Situation, buildings, and appearance of the capital. Air appreciated as healthy. Description of the inhabitants. Current state of commerce. Soil products, manufacturing, navigation. Currency, governance. State officials, ceremonies. Local divisions. Revenues, taxes. Justice administration and penalties. History of. State of the kingdom at the time Malacca fell to the Portuguese. Circumstances that put Ibrahim, a slave of the king of Pidir, on the throne. Gains significant importance during the reign of Mansur-shah. King of, receives a letter from Queen Elizabeth. Letter from King James the First. Start of female reigns. Their end. Subsequent events. Achin Head: situation of. Address: custom of, using the third instead of the second person. Adultery: laws regarding. Agriculture. Air: temperature of. Ala-eddin: or Ula-eddin Shah, king of Achin, lays multiple sieges to Malacca. His death. Alboquerque (Affonso d'): touches at Pidir and Pase on his voyage to Malacca. Alligators: Superstitious fear of. Amomum: different species of. Amusements. Anak-sungei: kingdom of. Ancestors: reverence for burial sites. Animals: account of. Annals: Malayan, regarding the kingdom of Achin. Ants: variety and abundance of. White-ant. Arabian: travelers refer to Sumatra as Ramni. Arabic: character with modifications, used by the Malays. Arithmetic. Arsenic: yellow. Arts: and manufacturing. Aru, kingdom of. Astronomy. Atap: roof covering for houses. Babi: island of. Bamboo: main building material. Account of the. Bangka: island of, known for its tin mines. Baniak: islands of. Banyan: tree or jawi-jawi, its special features. Bantam: city of. Expulsion of English from there. Barbosa, (Odoardus): his account of Sumatra. Barthema (Ludovico): his visit to the island. Barus: a place notable for giving its name to the most valuable type of camphor. Bats: various species of. Batta: country of. Its divisions. Mr. Miller's journey through it. Governments. Authority of the rajas. Succession. People, clothing, and weapons of the inhabitants. Warfare. Fortified villages or kampongs. Trade, method of holding markets. Food. Housing, domestic practices. Horse racing. Books. Observations on their writing methods. Religion. Mythology. Oaths. Funeral customs. Crimes and penalties. Practice of cannibalism. Reasons for this custom. Procedure. Clarified doubts. Testimonies. Death of Mr. Nairne in the Batta country. Preservation of original customs among this people, and its likely reasons. Batu (Pulo). Batu Bara: river. Beards: practice of removal. Beasts. Beaulieu: commander of a French squadron at Achin. Beeswax. Bencoolen: river and town. Interior region visited. Account of the first English establishment there. Benzoin: or benjamin, method of obtaining. Nature of the trade. Oil derived from it. Betel: habit of chewing. Preparation of. Betel-nut: or areca, see Pinang. Bintang: island of. Birds: Species that form edible nests. Methods of capturing. Birds-nest: edible, account of. Biru: island of. Blachang: type of caviar, preparation method. Blades: of krises. method of damasking. Boulton (Mr. Matthew). Bread-fruit: or sukun. Breezes: land and sea. Braham (Mr. Philip). Broff (Mr. Robert). Buffalo: or karbau, description of the. Slaughtered at festivals. Building: methods of, described. Bukit Lintang: a high mountain range inland of Moco-moco. Bukit Pandang: a high mountain inland of Ipu. Burying-places: ancient, reverence for. Chameleon: description of. Campbell (Mr. Charles). Camphor: or kapur barus, a valuable substance. Description of the tree. Method of obtaining it. Its cost. Camphor oil. Japan camphor. Cannibalism. Cannon: use of, before Portuguese discoveries. Carpenters' work. Carving. Cassia: description of the tree. Found in the Serampei, Musi, and Batta regions. Cattle: Laws regarding. Causes: or suits, method of resolution. Caut-chouc: or elastic gum. Cements. Champaka: flower. Character: difference in it between the Malays and other Sumatrans. Characters: of Rejang, Batta, and Lampong languages. Charms. Chastity. Chess: game of, Malayan terms. Child-bearing. Children: treatment of. Chinese: colonists. Circumcision. Cloth: manufacture of. Clothing: materials used. Coal. Cock-fighting: strong inclination towards this sport. Matches. Coconut-tree: an important crop. Does not bear fruit in the hilly areas. Codes: of laws. Remarks on. Coins: used in Sumatra. Commerce. Company (English East India): its influence. Permission granted to settle a factory at Achin. Compass: irregularities noted. Compensation: for murder, termed bangun. Complexion: fairness, in comparison to other Indians. Darkness not reliant on climate. Confinement: methods of. Contracts: made with local leaders, for obligating their subjects to plant pepper. Conversion: to the religion of Mahomet, period of. Cookery. Copper. Rich mine of. Coral rock. Corallines: collection of, owned by Mr. John Griffiths. Cosmetic: used, and method of preparation. Cotton: two varieties cultivated. Courtship. Crisp (Mr. John). Cultivation: of rice. Curry: dish or method of cooking so termed. Custard-apple. Cycas circinalis: (a palm-fern similar to the sago tree) described. Dalrymple (Mr. Alexander). Dammar: a type of resin or turpentine. Dancing: pastime of. Dare (Lieutenant Hastings). Journal of his expedition to the Serampei and Sungei-tenang regions. Datu: title of. Debts: and debtors, laws regarding. Deer: small species of. Deity: name for the, adopted by the Rejangs from the Malays. Dice. Diseases: methods of curing. Diversion: of tossing a ball. Divorces: laws regarding. Dragons'-blood: a substance, how sourced. Dress: description of male and female attire. Dupati: nature of title. Durian: fruit. Dusuns: or villages, description of. Duyong: or sea-cow. Dye-stuffs. Ears: ceremony of piercing. Earthenware. Earth-oil. Earthquakes. Eating: method of. Eclipses: belief regarding. Edrisi: his account of Sumatra as Al-Rami. Elastic gum. Elephants. Elizabeth: Queen, sends a letter to the king of Achin. Elopements: laws regarding. Emblematic gifts. Engano: island of. English: their first visit to Sumatra. Establish a factory at Achin. Europeans: influence of. Evidence: rules of, and method of presentation. Expedition: to Serampei and Sungei-tenang regions. Fairs. Fencing. Fertility: of soil. Festivals. Feud: information on a notable one. Fevers: treatment methods among locals. Filigree: manufacturing of. Fire: methods of kindling. Necessary for warmth in the hills. Firearms: produced in Menangkabau. Firefly. Fish: Ikan layer, a remarkable species. Various types listed. Fishing: method of. Fish-roes: preserved by salting. A trade item. Flowers: description of. Foersch, (Mr.): his account of the poison tree. Fogs: dense in the hills. Food. Fortification: methods of. Fort Marlborough: the main English settlement on Sumatra's coast. Establishment of. Reduced by Act of Parliament. French: captured Tappanuli settlement in 1760 and again in 1809, amid brutal circumstances. Sent a fleet to Achin under General Beaulieu. Fruits: description of. Funerals: ceremonies practiced. Furniture: of homes. Gambir: method of preparing it for consumption with betel. Gaming: laws surrounding. Tendency for, and methods of. Geography: limited understanding of. Goitres: illness afflicting hill natives. Not attributed to snow water. In the Serampei region. Gold: island known for its production. Primarily found in Menangkabau country. Categories of. Method of extracting from mines. Estimated quantity collected. Value. Method of purification. Weights. Government: Malayan. Grammar. Graves: form of. Griffiths, (Mr. John). Guana: or iguana, lizard species. Guava: fruit. Gum-lac. Gunpowder: manufacturing of. Hair: methods of styling the. Heat: degree of. Hemp: or ganja, its intoxicating properties. Henna: from Arabians used for dyeing nails. Herbs: and shrubs used for medicinal purposes. Hills: inhabitants of suffer from goitres. Hippopotamus. History: of Malayan kings. Of Achinese. Hollanders: their first visit to Sumatra. Holloway, (Mr. Giles). Horse-racing: practiced by the Battas. Horses: small breed. Occasionally used in battles. Consumed as food by the Battas. Hot springs. Houses: description of. Human flesh: consumed by the Battas. Iang de per-tuan: sovereignty title. Ibrahim (also known as Saleh-eddin shah): king of Achin, his background. Hostility toward the Portuguese. Events of his reign, and death. Iju: a specific vegetable fiber used for making ropes. Ilhas d'Ouro: Portuguese attempts to locate them. Import-trade. Incest. Indalas: one of the Malayan names for Sumatra. Indigo: Broad-leafed or tarum akar. Indragiri: river of. Originates from a lake in the Menangkabau country. Indrapura: kingdom of. Inhabitants: general classifications of. Inheritance: rules of. Ink: manufacturing of. Insanity. Insects: Various types listed. Instruments: musical. Interest: on money. Investiture. Ipu: river of. Sungei-ipu (a different river). Iron: Extracted ore. Manufacturing of. Mines. Iskander Muda (Paduka Sri): king of Achin, receives a letter from King James the First through Captain Best, allowing the establishment of an English factory. Conquers Johor. Attacks Malacca with a large fleet. Receives an embassy from France. Attacks Malacca again. His death. Wealth and influence. Islands: near the western coast, account of. Ivory. Jack: fruit. Jaggri: an inferior form of sugar from a type of palm. Jambi: river of. Settlements on its branches for gold collection. Originates in Limun country. Town of. Jambu: fruit. James the first: king, sends a letter to the king of Achin. Jeinal: sultan of Pase, his history. Johor: kingdom of. Kampar: river of. King of, negotiates with Alboquerque. Kampongs: or fortified villages. Kananga: flowering tree. Kapini: island of. Kasumba: name given to carthamus and bixa. Kataun: or Cattown, river of. Kima: or giant cockle. Koran. Korinchi: country. Mr. Campbell's visit there. Lake location. Inhabitants and architecture. Food, commercial products, gold. Account of lepers. Unique plants. Character of the locals. Koto-tuggoh: a fortified village in the Sungei-tenang region. Captured and destroyed. Krises: description of. Kroi: district of. Kulit-kayu: or coolicoy, bark of certain trees used for building and other applications. Kuwau: argus or Sumatran pheasant. Labun: district of. Lakes. Laksamana: title equivalent to commander-in-chief. Lampong: country, boundaries of. Inhabitants, language, and governance. Wars. Account of a unique group referred to as orang abung. Customs and traditions. Superstitions. Land: irregularities of its surface. Newly formed. Rarely viewed as property. Land: and sea breezes, origins of. Language: Nature of Malayan. Of other languages spoken in Sumatra. Court. Examples. Batta. Nias. Lanseh: fruit. Laws: and customs. Compilation of. Laye: river and district of. Leeches: a small type, very bothersome on journeys. Lemba: district, inhabitants similar to the Rejangs. Leprosy: account of. Lignum-aloes: or kalambac. Limun: district of. Gold merchants from. Literature. Lizards. Longitude: of Fort Marlborough, determined by observation. Looms: description of. Macdonald, (Lieutenant-colonel John). Mackenzie, (Mr. Kenneth). Madagascar: similarities in customs with those of Sumatra. Mahmud shah Juhan (Ala-eddin). Mahometanism: conversion period to. Maize: or jagong, cultivation of. Malacca: or Malaka, city founded when. Visited in 1509 by the Portuguese. Conquered by them in 1511. Repeatedly attacked by kings of Achin. Taken by the Hollanders in 1641. Malays: name applied to people of Menangkabau. Nearly synonymous with Muslim in this region. Differences in character between Malays and other Sumatrans. Guard unit composed of. Origin of. Royal lineage. Not strict in religious observance. Governments of. Malayan: language. Malur: or Malati flower (nyctanthes). Mango: fruit, described. Mangustin: fruit, described. Manjuta: river and district of. English settlement located. Manna: district of. Mansalar: island of. Mansur shah: king of Achin, besieges Malacca but is defeated. Renews attack but fails again. Returns with a large fleet to assault Johor. Murdered while preparing for a significant expedition. Mantawei: name of the people inhabiting certain islands. Manufactures. Marco Polo: his account of Sumatra as Java minor. Visited around the year 1290. Marriage: methods of, and laws regarding. Rites of. Festivals. Consummation. Marsden (Mr. John). Measures: of capacity and distance. Measurement: of time. Medicinal: plants and herbs. Medicine: the practice of. Mega: island of. Menangkabau: kingdom of. History of, poorly documented. Boundaries of. Rivers stemming from it. Political decline. Mentions by travelers in early accounts. Government division. Noteworthy respect for the ruling family. Titles of the sultan. Remarks on these. Ceremonies. Conversion of the populace to Islam. The empire's ancient roots prior to that event. Sultan respected by the Battas. Metempsychosis: beliefs regarding it held by the Sumatrans. Miller (Mr. Charles). Minerals. Mines: gold. Copper. Iron. Missionaries: no recorded attempts to convert Sumatrans to Christianity. Moco-moco: in Anac-sungei, account of. Monkeys: various species. Monsoons: reasons for their changes. Morinda: wood used for dyeing. Mountains: range running along the island. Height of Mount Ophir or Gunong Passamman. High mountain called Bukit Pandang. Mucks: practice, nature, and reasons behind it. Muhammed shah (Ala-eddin or Ula-eddin): succeeds Juhan shah as king of Achin. His tumultuous reign and death. Mukim: district division in Achin. Mulberry. Murder: reparations for. Musi: district of. Music: Preference for minor key. Mythology: of the Battas. Nako-nako: islands of. Nalabu: port of. Name: of Sumatra, unknown to Arabian geographers and Marco Polo. Various spellings exist. Likely of Hindu origin. Names: given to children. Distinctions of. Fathers often named after their children. Hesitation to pronounce their own names. Natal: settlement. Gold of superior quality gathered in the area. Governed by datus. Navigation. Nias: island of. Nibong: palm species, description and uses. Nicolo di Conti: his visit to Sumatra. Nutmegs: and cloves, first brought in by Mr. Robert Broff. Second importation. Success of the cultivation. Oaths: nature of, in legal matters. Collateral. How administered. Amongst the Battas. Odoricus: his visit to the island of Sumoltra. Officers: of state in Malayan governments. At Achin. Oil: earth- Camphor- Coconut- Ophir: name of, not known to locals. Height of Mount Ophir or Gunong Passamman. Opium: significant import from Bengal. Laws concerning. Practices of smoking. Preparation methods. Effects experienced. Oranges: various types. Oratory: innate gift among the Sumatrans. Ornaments: worn. Padang: main Dutch settlement. Padang-guchi: river of. Padi: or rice, upland cultivation. Lowland cultivation. Transplantation. Yield rate. Threshing. Beating out. Paduka Sri: king of Achin, see Iskander Muda. Pagi (or Nassaus): islands of. Palembang: river of. Originates in the Musi area, near the Bencoolen river. Dutch factory established on it. Description of the country along its banks. Governance. City description. Many foreign settlers. Language spoken. Interior areas explored by English. Palma-christi. Pandan: shrub with fragrant flowers. Pangeran: nature of title. Limited authority. Pantun: or proverbial song. Papaw: fruit. Pase: kingdom of. Passamman: province of. Passummah: Legal customs of. Pawns: or collateral, legal rules regarding. Pepper: key item in the Company's trade. Cultivation of. Plant description. Growing progress. Harvesting time. Drying method. White pepper. Plantation surveys. Transport methods. Percha (Pulo): one of the Malayan names for Sumatra. Perfume. Pergularia odoratissima: cultivated in England by Sir Joseph Banks. Persons: description of the natives. Pheasant: argus or Sumatran. Philippine: islands, customs and beliefs resembling those of Sumatra. Pidir: kingdom of. Pigafetta (Antonio): earliest example of a Malayan vocabulary during his voyage. Pikul: weight. Pinang: areca, or commonly known as the betel-nut tree, and its fruit. Pinang (Pulo): island of. Pineapple. Piratical habits: of Malays. Plantain: or pisang. Fruit varieties. Pleading: method of. Poetry: local appreciation for. Polishing: leaf. Polygamy: discussion of. Connection between it and the practice of buying wives. Population. Porah: island of. Portuguese: their expeditions made Sumatra well known to Europeans. Their first visit under Diogo Lopez de Sequeira. Events at Pidir and Pase. Capture of Malacca. Endured many assaults and sieges from kings of Achin. Potatoes: cultivated in the Korinchi region. Priaman: river and district of. Invitation to the English to establish a settlement there. Puhn: or Poon, meaning tree in general, applied by Europeans to a specific type. Puhn-upas: or poison tree, account of. Pulas: type of twine made from the kaluwi nettle. Pulse: variety of. Pulo: or island. Pulo: point and bay. Punei-jambu: a beautiful type of dove. Punishments: corporal. Among the Battas. Among the Achinese. Quail-fighting. Queen: government of Achin transferred to a. Account of the embassy from Madras to her. Radin: prince of Madura. Raffles (Mr. Thomas). Rakan: river or estuary. Rambutan: fruit. Ramni: name given to Sumatra by Arabian geographers. Ranjaus: description of. Rapes: laws regarding. Rattan-cane: fruit of. Significant export trade in. Rau: or Rawa country. Rayet shah (Ala-eddin): reported to have originally been a fisherman, takes over the throne of Achin by murdering the heir. During his reign, the Hollanders first visited Achin. Also the English under Captain (Sir James) Lancaster, who brought letters from Queen Elizabeth. At ninety-five years old, confined by his son. Reaping: method of. Rejang: people characterized as a standard for manners description. Country location. Divided into tribes. Their governance. Religion: status of, among the Rejang. No visible worship. Term dewa applies to a group of unseen beings. Respect for ancestors' graves. Ancient Malay beliefs. Reasons for conversion to Islam. Beliefs of the Battas. Reptiles. Rhinoceros. Rice: cultivation practices. Differences between ladang or upland, and sawah or lowland. Sowing methods. Reaping practices. Item of trade. Rivers. Rock: type of soft. Coral. Rum: or Rome, for Constantinople. Sago-tree: or rambiya (confused with Cycas circinalis, a different tree), described. Salt: manufacturing of. Saltpetre: Gathered from certain caves. Sanding: islands or Pulo Sandiang. Sappan: wood. Scorpion: flower or anggrek kasturi. Sculpture: ancient. Sea: eroding land. Sequeira (Diogo Lopez de): first Portuguese to reach Sumatra. Serampei: region. Villages, governance, women's characteristics. Special regulations. Further details. Sesamum: or bijin, oil extracted from. Sexes: incorrect beliefs regarding significant inequality in their numbers. Shellfish. Siak: river of. Overview. Land on both sides is flat and fertile. Abundance of ship-building timber. Governance. Trade. Subjugated by the king of Achin. Si Biru: island of. Silebar: river, and district of. Sileda: effort to mine gold at. Silk-cotton (bombax). Singapura: city when founded. Singkel: river. Si Porah: or Good Fortune, island of. Situation: general overview of the island's geography. Slavery: condition of, uncommon among the Rejangs. State of black slaves at Fort Marlborough. Smallpox: its effects. Snakes. Soil: described. Surface irregularities. Fertility level. Songs: Singing. a local pastime. Spices: see Nutmegs. Sugar: production methods. Imperfect kind known as jaggri. Sugar-cane, cultivation of. Suits: see Causes. Sulphur: Sources of procurement. Sumatra: name probably of Hindu roots. Sungei-lamo and Sungei-itam: rivers. Sungei-tenang: country, account of. Superstitious beliefs. Surf: Considerations regarding. Possible causes of. Surveys: of pepper farms. Swala: or sea-slug, a trade item. Swasa: a mixture of gold and copper. Tamarind: tree. Tanjong: flower. Tappanuli: famous bay. Settlement on the island of Punchong kechil. Taken by the French in 1760, and again in 1809 under brutal circumstances. Taprobane: name applied to Sumatra in the medieval period. Teak: wood, known for its quality. Attempts made to cultivate the tree. Teeth: method of filing them. Occasionally covered with gold. Theft: laws regarding. Proof of required. Thermometer: recorded heights at Fort Marlborough, and in Natal. As low as 45 degrees on a hill in the Ipu region. Threshing: method of. Thunder: and lightning, very common. Effects experienced. Tides: At Siak. Flow significantly in rivers on the eastern side of the island. Tiger: Attacks on livestock by this animal. Traps set. Tiku: river and islands of. Timber: great diversity of. Types listed. Time: method of segmenting. Tin: Significant exportation to China. Titles. Tobacco: cultivation of. Toddy: or nira, method of extraction. Tools: for mining. Carpenters' tools. Torches: or links. Trade. Triste: island of, see Mega. Tulang-bawang: river. Turmeric. Upas: plant poison, account of. Urei: river of. Utensils: account of. Vegetable products. Venereal disease. Villages: description of. Virgins: their specific decorations. Volcanoes: referred to as gunong api, account of. Warfare: methods employed. Waterfalls. Waterspout: account of. Wax: a significant trade item. Weapons. Weaving. Weights. Wens. White-ants. White pepper. Widows: laws regarding. Wilkins (Mr. Charles). Winds. Wives: number of. See Marriage. Worm-shell: or Teredo navalis. Wood: various species. Woods: Method of clearing. Wounds: laws regarding. Writing: On tree bark and bamboo slips. Samples. Yams: various roots classified under that name. Year: method of gauging its length.
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