CHAPTER X

.

THE KINGDOM OF BORNEO PROPER.

Its Nominal Extent--Its Government--The Sultan--The Viziers--The Shabandar--The inferior Officers--Their Influence--“The Abode of Peace”--Poverty-stricken Gentlemen--Possessions of the Nobles--The Country parcelled out among them--Distant Dependencies becoming independent--Oppression of the surrounding Districts--Divisions among the Nobles--Poverty of the Nobles--Population of Brunei--System of Plunder--Sale of Children--Handsome Brass Guns--Their Fate--No Justice--Crime nominally Punished--No Possibility of Improvement--Anecdotes--System of Local Self-government--The Parishes--Their Names, and the Occupation of their Inhabitants--Fishing--Shell Heaps--Asylum--Treatment of a Slave Girl--Political Parties--Religious Schism--An attempted Explanation--Followers of each Party--Difference of Length of Fast Month--Visiting the Graves of Ancestors--A pretty Custom--Search after Excitement--Story Tellers--Conjurors--Their Arts--Practice of Abortion--The Egg-cooking Trick--The Sultan’s Palace--Its Inhabitants--His Wife and his Concubines--Their Treatment--Bold Lovers--Anecdote--Tragical Termination--The Women deceive their Lords--The Inverted Language--Education neglected--Sight of a Harim--Mutual Disappointment--Rajahs pleasant Companions--Their Customs--Tenacious of Rank--Decay of Brunei--Exactions suffered by the Aborigines--The Kadayans--Tradition--Hill Men united--Commotion--Kadayans have great Influence--Lovely Country--Kadayans removed to Labuan--Short Description of that Colony--Excellent Position--Coal--Telegraphic Communication--Good Effect of our Colony--Trade Increasing--Pepper--Exports--Cotton--Fine Jungle--Method of Collecting the Camphor and the Gamboge in Siam--The Coal-fields--Revenue of the Sultan--Brunei Government no Power--Crime unpunished--A Bold Thief--Makota and the Fire--Nominal Punishments--Cutting off the Hand--The Fail of Ashes--Singing Fish--Curious Method of Catching Prawns--Tuba Fishing--Superstition--Money--Coinage of the Capital--Cloth--Iron--Gun-metal--Good Manufacturers of Brass Ordnance--A 12-pounder--Similarity of Customs--The Sultan--The Heir to his Subjects--Makota and his Gold.

Borneo Proper is one of the few Malay kingdoms that remain in the Archipelago possessing the semblance of independent government; and as a type of what was, and what we may hope is passing away, it is worth a short description.

Nominally, this kingdom extends from Sarawak to Maludu Bay and the islands to the north of it; but, in reality, it possesses no power, and exercises little influence over its dependencies.

The government consists of a sultan, now dignified by the higher title of Iang de per Tuan, freely to be translated by “He who governs.” The office is at present held by one who has no claim by descent, but was chosen to avoid a threatened struggle between the popular, but illegitimate, sons of the late sultan and the more legal aspirant to the throne. He is in general a well-meaning man, but tainted by a grasping avarice. Neither in theory nor practice is the sultan despotic: he must consult on all great occasions with his chief officers, and all important documents should bear at least two of their seals.

The four principal officers of state are: the bandhara, for home affairs; the de gadong, for revenue and government stores; the pamancha, for home affairs likewise, and who on certain occasions may supply the place of the bandhara, and transact business for him; and the tumanggong, who is supposed to protect the coast and lead all warlike expeditions.

There is a fifth officer, of lower rank, the shabandar, to look after the affairs of commerce, and regulate the intercourse with strangers frequenting the port.

Each of the four great officers is entitled to eight assistants of noble blood, besides others of inferior rank; but, as the sultan feelingly observed, the glory of Brunei, called by themselves Dar’u’salam, the Abode of Peace, has departed, and he can only find a few who care to be promoted to these offices, which bring neither profit nor consideration. The names are there, but the reality is gone.

There is a class of officers who possess very great influence in Borneo; they are the ministers chosen from the ranks of the people, the chief of whom is called the orang kaya de gadong. Seldom is anything of importance undertaken without consulting them, as they are known to have a powerful following, and greatly to influence the minds of the people. At the demise of a sovereign, their influence is especially felt, and if they were united, I believe they would carry out their views in spite of any opposition.

The present orang kaya de gadong is now very old, but all his life he has been a consistent opponent of any intercourse with Christian nations; and when forced by business to sit and converse with Europeans, the expression of his face is most offensive, and he looks as if he loathed the duty in which he was engaged, and he is one of the few natives I have met who appeared to long to insult you. He was one of the most active of those engaged in the conspiracy to assassinate the rajah Muda Hasim, partly on account of his supposed attachment to the English alliance.

Every descendant of a noble family, whether legitimate or illegitimate, is entitled to call himself pañgeran, or ampuan, which causes the country to swarm with these poverty-stricken gentlemen, who are a curse to the industrious classes.

Nearly every district belongs to some particular family, which by usage possesses an almost unchallenged power over the people, and is thus removed from the control of the government. Many districts are divided among various families, who have each certain villages, and live on the amount they can obtain by taxes or forced trade. The sultan possesses a large number, and each of the principal nobles has several, while many, formerly wealthy, have dissipated their property, and sold their rights to others. Those who do not possess any particular districts, endeavour to obtain a living by pressing from the aborigines all that their Malay chiefs have left them.

As, however, the central government is gradually falling into decay, the more distant dependencies are throwing off the yoke of the absent nobles, and asserting an amount of independence which is measured by distance and their own power. Agents of the nobles still visit them, but the produce collected is but small. This, however, tells heavily on the districts nearer the capital, and the unfortunate Muruts and Bisayas are ground to the dust to support a useless and idle population. I have given some anecdotes of this state of things in my journal up the Limbang.

The divisions among the nobles themselves prevent them ever uniting to regain an influence over their distant provinces, which one by one are falling from them. There is a poverty among these men which is almost inconceivable in a rich country, as whatever the amount obtained from the neighbouring villages, it can but support the idlers who throng round the chiefs.

Brunei contains at least 25,000 inhabitants, half of whom depend, directly or indirectly, on the nobles, and in their name carry on a system of plunder unintelligible in other countries. If the followers be sent to make a demand on a certain village, they will obtain double the amount for their own shares. If the inhabitants refuse to pay, their children are seized; and if their means are really exhausted, the little ones are carried off into slavery.[12]

I knew a man, named Sirudin, who at one time brought over seventeen children obtained in that way from the people of Tutong, and this occurred during the spring of 1857. The parents laid their complaints before the sultan; but Sirudin had sold them off to the principal nobles, and no redress was to be had. The sultan pretended to be very angry with the man, but put the chief blame on the pañgeran de gadong, who, he said, was beyond his power. The aborigines have often risen in insurrection; but being disunited, they have not thereby improved their condition: the Bornean Government always threatening them with calling in the Kayans to subdue any opposition. The Muruts and Bisayas of Limbang are the most impoverished people I have ever met, excessively dirty, both in their persons and their houses, covered with scurfy skin diseases, and their children much troubled with ulcers.

Before the Kayans commenced their inroads into the districts situated on the banks of the Limbang river, the Muruts and Bisayas were much more independent than they now are, were more wealthy and better armed. I have heard my old friend the chief of Blimbing describe with great minuteness three beautiful brass guns his father had inherited from his ancestors, which had silver vent holes, were covered with scrolls and inscriptions which the most learned haji could not read. These arms were the pride of the village, but on an evil day, the late sultan thought of them, though with all his faults he was not a gross oppressor of the aborigines; so he sent for the orang kaya of Blimbing, and tried to cajole him out of the guns. For months the chief was firm and would not part with them, but at last, ceding to his sovereign’s entreaties, and to the offer of double their value, he gave way and delivered them up. As soon as the sultan had secured them, full payment was found to be inconvenient, so the chief was never able to get even their original cost, though if he dunned long enough, the sultan would pay him an instalment, and with many flattering words dismiss him; very different treatment from what a chief who dunned would get from the present race of rulers. In fact no country could have existed half a century under the existing system. The three guns were doubtless of Spanish make, and were among those which were taken from the late sultan, after the capture of Brunei by Sir Thomas Cochrane, and were sent to England; there I heard they were melted up during the late war, and helped to construct some of the cannon which were sent to the Crimea. The present orang kaya of Blimbing said, it reconciled him to the loss of the guns to know how well the English had thrashed the Borneans.

Even in the capital itself justice is not to be obtained. The instances which came to my knowledge were innumerable. I will mention a few to illustrate my meaning. In 1859, I was one day standing near my wharf, when my attention was called to a boat passing, in which there were one dead and one wounded man. I inquired the cause: it appeared that a Bornean, named Abdullah, pulling by a canoe in which two men were fishing, stopped on seeing them, and accused one of attempting to escape to our colony of Labuan, affirming that he was a slave. The man denied both statements; upon which, Abdullah began beating him with a paddle. His father, the other man, interfered to protect his son, when Abdullah seized a spear, and drove it through the old man’s body, and then severely wounded the son. There was much excitement among the relatives of both parties, and they assembled in great numbers, but the sultan and ministers interfered and promised inquiry. The result was, they inflicted a fine of 120_l._ on Abdullah, at which he laughed contemptuously, and never paid a farthing. He was considered to be under the protection of the de gadong, and no one would interfere to punish him.

All attempts at improving the neighbourhood of the capital are stopped by such cases as the following. Another man, also named Abdullah, made a small plantation of cocoa-nut palms, and carefully tended them for seven years. Just as they were about to bear fruit, he was visited by a relative of the de gadong who claimed the plantation on account of its being made on his land. Abdullah appealed to the sultan: it was apparent on the face of it, he had used waste land, to which he had a right, but the case was decided against him. He asked permission to visit his property to remove his goods, and next day called on the pañgeran to say the ground was at his service. He went to take possession, but found only the land, every tree had been deprived of its cabbage, and consequently died, and jungle soon grew up there again. Abdullah placed himself under the protection of the tumanggong, who quietly chuckled at the joke. The same thing would have occurred to one of my own servants had I not remonstrated.

I will only mention another. A Chinese boy robbed his Chinese master of a large amount of goods, and carried them off to the house of the head Mahomedan priest, whose son he asked to secrete them for him. The boy was subsequently seized, but escaped punishment by turning Mahomedan, and the imám’s son was considered far too respectable to be punished, or even to be compelled to restore the goods.

When such cases are of common occurrence it is not to be expected that the city should be otherwise than in confusion, being without a government able or willing to do justice. It is only kept together by the sort of local self-government which obtains in all the kampongs or sections of the city, and by the strong feeling which unites all the branches of a family, and often prevents crimes from the fear of vengeance. I may here notice that Brunei is divided into kampongs (sections or parishes).

Ascending the river and entering the city, the first kampong on the left is called Pablat, and is the residence of some of the most sturdy of the inhabitants; they are the fishermen, who have their fixed nets on the banks of the rivers, and on the extensive sandbanks which stretch across the bay, inside Muara Island. Although they are constantly at work, they are not very enterprising, as they never place their nets in water deeper than two fathoms. Haji Saman, an intelligent man, but notorious for his piratical connections, once tried the experiment in five fathom waters, and his great success should have tempted others, but as yet they have not followed his example. Their nets are made of split bamboo, and are of various heights: the lower are fixed near the bank, and the longer are added on as they enter into deeper water, so that the summits are of uniform height. The fish ascending or descending the river, and meeting with this obstruction, follow it to the end, and enter a very simple trap, being simply open spaces with narrow passages leading into them; and their prolonged sides prevent the fish easily discovering the way out. As soon as it is low water, a basket which fits the bottom of the inner trap is raised, and the fish are put into baskets, and the men start for the capital in the fastest canoes I have almost ever seen, and never appear to draw breath till they have reached the town, eight to seventeen miles’ distance from their nets. Their wives and daughters are waiting their arrival, and immediately pull off to the floating market to dispose of the day’s capture. There is much rivalry as to the arrival of the first boat, as the profit realized is greater, and for that reason they will seldom stop to sell their fish during the transit. I imagine that it is on account of their being constantly in the water that their skins are so scurfy.

The next kampong is Perambat, from _rambat_, a casting-net, and constant practice has given these men wonderful proficiency, as standing on the bows of a small canoe, they will throw a net that has a spread of thirty feet, with such perfect accuracy that its outer edges fall in a circle on the water at the same time, and they thus catch a large amount of small fish and prawns.

Then follows a large parish, Membakut Pañgeran Mahomed, which contains the houses of many of the principal nobles, as well as the residence of the late sultan’s widow, all very tumble-down looking structures; but above them and at their back is a kampong of blacksmiths and kris-makers, called Pemproanan. Then follows Membakut, raised on firm ground, and here are a few Chinese and Kling houses, which have been raised since the fire of 1856, to which reference is made in a subsequent paragraph. Kampong Saudagar, or the merchant’s parish, derives its name, it is said, from a Portuguese trader from Makau having resided on that spot about sixty years ago, but is now the residence of two nobles, Maharajah Lela and Sura. Kampong Padaun, from _daun_, a leaf, employed in converting the leaf of the nipa palm into roofing mats; Pasir, rice cleaners, and makers of rice mortars; Sungei Kuyuk, wood-workers and prawn fishers, but more for themselves than the market; Pemriuk, workers in brass, from _priuk_, a brass cooking-pot; Menjaling and Pemukat, occupied by fishermen, as the names imply--_jaling_, a fishing-net, _pukat_, a kind of seine or drag-net. Burong Piñgé is the name of the last kampong on the left side in ascending, and is inhabited by the principal traders and wealthiest men in the town.

In ascending the river the first kampong on the right hand is called Terkoyong, from _koyong_, a shell; and its inhabitants were the principal collectors of the pearl oyster, which was at one time so plentiful near the entrance of the Brunei river. I may remark that when the collection was very paying, the heaps of shells which were thrown from the houses, after extracting the pearl, rose several feet above the level of the floor, although, originally the houses were built on posts in the water; now, however, they appear to have sunk in the soft mud, and are completely concealed by the deposits of the river; but the level of the bank is greatly raised. I have heard surprise expressed at the natives taking the trouble to bring home such cumbersome articles as heaps of shells, when the products they seek might be all contained in a small paper packet; they, however, not only seek the pearl, but eat its contents the oyster, and a Malay does not much care for bad smells. And this holds especially with the aborigines; they positively appear to have no olfactory sense at all. I have seen them collecting shell-fish on the beach which they intended to transport in their boats to their villages, perhaps fifty miles up a river, and in the warm tropical sun. The flesh by that time would be nearly decomposed, yet they appear to enjoy it the more keenly; in fact, any man who can eat with relish an egg, black with rottenness, can have little sense of smell. I think all the shell heaps which are found in these parts of the world may be accounted for in this way, though as the aborigines of Borneo keep pigs, no high shell heaps are raised, as these indefatigable routers spread them about in every direction.

Labuan Kapal, or the ship’s anchorage, is the next kampong, and opposite to the houses there is deep water up to the wharves, so that ships can load without boats. The inhabitants are much employed making the kejangs, or mats of the inner nipa leaf, used to cover boats, and make the walls of houses. Kampongs Jawatan Jeludin and Khatib Bakir, traders and blacksmiths. Peminiak, from _miniak_, oil, manufacturers of that article; and it is also the residence of the two viziers, pañgerans de gadong and pamancha. Kampongs Pañgeran Ajak, and Ujong Tajong, general traders; Sungei Kadayan, right-hand bank ascending, is the residence of the pañgeran tumanggong, and the orang kaya de gadong, and various other government officers; many of the people are employed casting brass guns, or are goldsmiths or general traders, and latterly their women have commenced the manufacture of expensive and handsome gold brocade. In this parish the heterodox haji Mahomed lived, and his mosque is situated; while on the opposite side of the little Kadayan river is the orthodox musjid, which, though built on firm ground, and of brick, is a mean-looking building. Then follows the palace, with its attendant houses, the bandhara and his people, and a kampong sometimes called Pasar, or the bazaar.

The remaining parishes are small, and consist of Tamui, Panchur Brasur, Kandang Batu or Prandang, Alañgan, Blanak and Tamasik, and are inhabited by traders, gardeners, and a few blacksmiths, with a small section called Pañgeran Daud’s kampong, who are entirely engaged in making mats. Some of these kampongs occasionally vary their names,

## particularly when they depend on those of the principal people who

reside there.

I am afraid this is a dry enumeration, but it gives an idea of their mode of life, and the sort of corporations into which they are divided, and who support the cause of their individual members, whether right or wrong, and often take the part of a fugitive criminal who may cast himself at the feet of a chief man and ask his protection. Ten years ago a man committed a murder in Membakut Pañgeran Mahomed, and fled to the Burong Piñgé kampong, whose people refused to deliver him up; several times the two parishes mustered their forces, but never came to blows, particularly as they belonged to the same political parties. In 1859, after seven years escaping all traps, he fell into the hands of pañgeran Suleyman, whose follower he had murdered, and with the consent of the sultan he was immediately executed.

I was one day walking in the grounds near the consulate, when I was annoyed by a most offensive effluvia rising from a line of low trees which skirted the river’s bank. I found that some one had placed there the body of a young girl of thirteen. I reported the case to the sultan, and heard that two women had agreed to exchange slaves, a boy for a girl, but had not yet carried out the arrangement. The owner of the female slave noticing she was ailing, sent her to the owner of the boy, who refused to receive her in that state. The unfortunate child was bandied about between the two in an open canoe during a whole day, exposed to sun and rain, and at night a mat was thrown over her, and the canoe tied to the wharf of the owner of the boy. In the morning it was discovered she was dead, and her mistress, to save the trouble of burying her, threw her corpse where I found it. The woman was nominally fined--not for her cruelty, but for neglecting to inter it.

The capital is divided among the partisans of the sons of the late sultan, who hold the offices of tumanggong and pamancha, and are supported by their uncle the de gadong; leaving the bandhara, the highest minister in rank, though not in power, as the mainstay of the opposing faction, who support the sons of the late Muda Hassim, whose death is described in Captain Mundy’s volumes on Borneo. The tumanggong is the popular candidate, and he, or one of his family, may succeed to the throne without bloodshed, as the opposing candidate is daily losing ground. I liked both of them, but the former is more likely to keep things together than the latter. It is a government, however, beyond all hope of improvement.

To add to the difficulties of the country, a religious schism has appeared. It is curious, though very difficult to be understood. I will endeavour to give a clear account of my view of the case. About twenty years ago, a Bornean haji, named Mahomed, taught that God had no personality; to say he had, was to acknowledge oneself an infidel. Being pressed for an explanation, he said, the personality might be allowed in the thoughts, but to express it in words was to compare the Deity to a human being, which was a gross impiety. The religious world, shocked at this heresy, sent a deputation to Mecca, who returned denouncing haji Mahomed as a false teacher. He replied by accusing the hajis of deceiving the people; that his was the true doctrine, as taught by the elders of the Church, and that he would go and inquire for himself. After an absence of two years, he arrived full of Arabic and learning to uphold his former opinion. The controversy waxed hotter and hotter, deputation and counter-deputation went off to Mecca; but each party always asserted that the learned doctors had decided for them. Rival mosques were built, with their rival imams and preachers. The people of the capital, not understanding the question, ranged themselves under their chosen leaders, and added to their political differences their religious quarrels.

The present sultan, and the family of the late rajah Muda Hassim, with about a tenth of the city, but nearly all the hajis, support the orthodox or personality theory; while the pañgeran tumanggong, the rest of the family of the late sultan, and most of the sections of Brunei, are followers of haji Mahomed’s doctrine. This controversial haji died about four years ago, and the present sultan was very loth to permit him to be buried in the usual cemetery; but his friends mustered too strongly to be resisted, and all opposition was withdrawn. The two

## parties have a difference in the length of the fast month: one reckons

it at twenty-nine days, the other at thirty; and both are ready to apply the term infidel to their opponents.

I may mention, whilst speaking of the fast month, that on its termination the sultan and rajahs proceed in gay procession to visit and have cleaned the graves of their ancestors. It is a pretty sight: some fifty long prahus, urged on by from ten to fifty paddles, gliding over the waters, with gay flags, bright-coloured umbrellas, in which the royal yellow, and the white, black, green, and red of the viziers are conspicuous. Gongs and drums are beaten, and the crews shout, to give life to the scene.

There is a very pretty custom among the Malays, to visit their friends on the great feast-day that terminates the fast, and to endeavour to do away with any ill-feeling, jealousy, or animosity, that may have arisen during the past year, by asking pardon of all their friends for any shortcomings. They do this to all, as they thus avoid any peculiar notice of the offence, and seek forgiveness also for any unintentional annoyance they may have given.

Anything that varies the monotonous life led by the people of the capital is seized upon with avidity. They, therefore, delight in story-tellers, conjurors, and dancers. There are several female professional story-tellers, who go from one harim to another, relating, in a sort of chant, metrical tales of former days. They are supposed to improvise, and may occasionally vary the tale and embellish it with fresh incidents, but they generally rely on the Malay versions of Indian poems. These women are eagerly sought after by the court ladies, as they not only thus amuse them, but are the collectors of the news and scandal of the day. I have occasionally listened to them, but not with much interest.

There are also women who pretend to be possessed with a spirit, and whilst under its influence are supposed to speak in an unknown tongue--uttering unearthly sounds, and making violent contortions of their faces. They likewise pretend to be able to discover stolen goods, and to cure diseases; they will even assist a jealous woman to destroy the life of another by incantations, making a little wax image, and as that melts away so does the woman fade whom she endeavours to destroy. She compounds charms and philtres for the love-sick, and will make some mysterious marks on a bit of paper, which, placed near the sleeping-mat of man or woman, will suffice to change the affections of the occupant of that bed.

Many are also adepts in the art of procuring abortions, and practice has given them so much perfection that, by mechanical means, they succeed in their designs without injuring the patient. They drive a thriving trade in the capital, and prevent the necessity of infanticide, which therefore very rarely occurs. When it is considered that the rajahs part with their concubines after the birth of one or two children, it is not surprising that a favourite should take any means to uphold her influence. They are never taught morality when young, and they follow eagerly in the footsteps of their elders.

More than half the daughters of the nobility cannot procure husbands, as they are not allowed to marry a person of inferior rank, and must receive a large marriage portion. There is very little restraint on the conduct of these girls, none but such as they place upon themselves, as it is quite impossible, with their slight houses, to prevent nocturnal visits of lovers; but should they prove with child, it is considered a great scandal. I believe Brunei to be the most immoral city of which I have heard.

But to return to the conjurors. When they give notice that it is their intention to receive visitors, as the spirits will most probably enter into them, their houses are crowded by young men and such women as can get there, but they often confine their performances to some sleight of hand. I watched one do a trick, and she did it cleverly. She began by telling me she knew I disbelieved in her power, but she would convince me, by cooking one of my own eggs from simply breathing on it. I sent for one, and taking it in her hands, she appeared suddenly to be possessed by the spirit: she uttered unearthly sounds, pretended to desire to attack some one who laughed at her, so as to require two women to hold her back, until the indignant comments of the bystanders caused the scoffer to hide her face; she then commenced putting her features through such contortions as effectually to prevent my watching her countenance, but I kept my eyes upon her hands; presently she became quiet, and began breaking the egg; it was certainly cooked; she carefully collected the shell, and then eat its contents. She then breathed on the fragments of shell, and almost immediately opened her hand with my uncooked egg untouched.

Though it is not my object to give an account of the Malays, I will enter slightly into the condition of the women. In Brunei, the wives and daughters of the sultan and of the nobles are much more concealed than holds with the Malays in other parts of Borneo, and one can only describe a harim from hearsay. It is nothing like the gorgeous palaces of Western Asia; the sultan’s house consists of a long building like a rough barn, raised on posts in the water, and is perhaps seventy feet long by thirty in breadth. It is one story high, though in the roof are some rough attics: in this residence he keeps his wives, his concubines, and his female slaves; so jealous is he that no one shall see them, that when the house requires repairs, he will work with his own hands rather than permit the labourers to enter the inner rooms: the only man in whom he has confidence is a very old decrepit pañgeran, who assists him in the work. He has seventy women confined in this small space: his principal wife has a large room, elegantly hung with silk hangings, and well matted; she is permitted luxuries denied to all but three or four favourite concubines. The other unfortunates are allowed a little rice, salt, firewood, and water, and once a year a cheap suit of clothes; for everything extra they must depend on their families or their lovers.

The palace is, as I have said, like a rough barn, but the flooring is simply slips of a palm stem, tied together with rattans, and can be opened with facility; through the interstices every kind of refuse is thrown, to be carried away by the current.

This offers temptation to the bold lover, who comes in the dead of night, and by the signal of a white rag hung through the floor, knows the coast is clear: sometimes the girls get bold, and as they are all in league to deceive the sultan, they can occasionally leave the house without being discovered. The daughters of the late Muda Hassim, in 1859, absented themselves for three weeks and were not found out. Sometimes it causes a tragedy. I will mention one which occurred during my residence in the capital (1858).

There were two sisters living in the sultan’s harim, the eldest was his concubine. He one day entered her room and found her absent with her mother, and, on inquiry, he heard that she was in the habit of fetching both her daughters away for the purpose of intrigue, as the sultan allowed them nothing but what I have stated as the usual fare. He determined to make an example: so when she brought back the girls, he told her the pañgeran shabandar wanted to speak to her; she went, and, on entering the room saw on the table the fatal instrument, the garotte; she guessed her fate, but fell on her knees before the pañgeran and begged for her life, offering to confess the names of those who had received her daughters at their houses: upon this, pañgeran Mahomed, a dissipated young man, struck her on the mouth with his slipper, and, the signal being given, the assistants slipped the skein of thread over her head, fixed the board at the back of her neck, and turning a short stick, strangled her, and then delivered the body to her astonished husband.

The board used has two holes in it, through which the thick skein of brownish thread is passed, and once the latter is round the neck, it is easy to tighten it by the stick fixed behind.

The eldest daughter was expelled the harim, and given in marriage to the sultan’s old favourite, while the younger one was disgraced to slaves’ duties.

The pañgeran tumanggong, discovering a woman assisting his concubines from the house, slew her with his own kris, in the presence of his wife.

The sultan’s wife and favourite concubines dress well in European silks and satins, and possess an abundance of gold ornaments, but the others are, as I have said, poorly provided for.

The women delight in every practice that can deceive their lords, and they have invented a system of speaking to each other in what may be called an inverted language--in Malay, “Bhasa Balik.” It is spoken in different ways: ordinary words have their syllables transposed, or to each syllabic another one is added. For “mari,” to come, they say, “malah-rilah;” they are constantly varying it, and girls often invent a new system, only confided to their intimate acquaintances; if they suspect they are understood by others, they instantly change it.

As might be expected, the education of the women is very much neglected; few can write, and none spell correctly. I often had love-letters shown me by amorous but ignorant swains, who were afraid to trust the discretion of any native writer, and they have invariably been ill-written and worse spelt; this, however, is not said in disparagement, as few of the men can either read or write.

The women are fond of making vows, and to that practice I am indebted for my only glimpse of a Bornean harïm. During my first expedition to Molu, my boat snapped on a snag, and I was left to return through the jungle. The report spread that I was dead, and various vows were made; among others, the wives and daughters of some of the rajahs made a vow, if I returned in safety, I should visit them and be showered over with yellow rice for good luck’s sake. The pañgerans consented, thinking I was dead; but, on my safe return, the ladies insisted upon carrying out their vow; they were anxious to see a white man within their walls.

The nobles came and asked me; I at first declined, but, on being pressed, consented. The whole place was very paltry; about twenty middle-aged women were present, while a crowd of young girls, half hidden by a curtain, occupied the lower end of the room. On my displaying the most perfect indifference as to whether I saw them or not, they gradually emerged. I observed no pretty faces, and constant confinement to the house had rendered their skins of a very light yellow. I am afraid we were mutually disappointed, as the only remark I heard them make about me was, “How very dull his eyes are;” and so they were compared to their flashing black ones.

Full of faults as the Bornean rajahs doubtless are, oppressors of their subjects, and totally unfitted to rule, yet they are, in my opinion, the most agreeable natives I have ever met. As a companion, few Europeans could be more interesting than was the shabandar, the Makota of Keppel’s book, and “the serpent,” as he was popularly called. I never wearied of his society, and always enjoyed the little picnics to which he invited me. His death, which I have related in my Limbang Journal, was tragic, though he deserved his fate. They all display, in the most exciting discussions, a propriety of behaviour and gentleness of manner that wins those who have dealings with them. Procrastination is their greatest fault, and sometimes trying to the temper.

They are very tenacious of their dignity, and only the royal family can use yellow; and for a trader to fly streamers or flags from the mast-head is a great offence to the nobles. It used to be, and will probably be again after the present sultan’s death, a punishable offence for a person of inferior rank to pass the palace steps with his umbrella spread, or to sit in the after-part of a boat, that being the place for nobles. A man wearing yellow would be punished, while even the slave girls may dress in that colour. The distinctions of rank are kept up with great strictness, yet the sultan will talk to the people with perfect familiarity, but they always reply in a most respectful tone; though during the evening free conversation is encouraged.

The sultan and nobles deplore the decay of their country, but cannot, or rather will not, understand that it is their own unreflecting rapacity which destroys the springs of industry.

There are no fixed impositions, but the aborigines suffer from the exactions of all, until, they have told me that, in despair, they are planting yearly less and less, and trusting to the jungle for a subsistence. The price of uncleaned rice has risen four hundred per cent. during my experience of Brunei. This partly arises from the ravages of the Kayans, who have lessened the agricultural population, and greatly narrowed the area of cultivation; and partly, as I have observed, from the dependencies ceasing to yield so much to the nobles, they are compelled to depend more on the neighbouring tribes.

I have not yet mentioned the people who inhabit the hills which surround the capital; they are called Kadayans, and are evidently aborigines converted to Islamism. It is a tradition among them that they and the Perambat and Pablat sections of the city inhabited by the fishermen were formerly Muruts, and joined the Mahomedans about four hundred years ago. In digging near the consulate, I found a large jar, with the remains of bones and a skull, almost dissolved by time, very similar to the ones used for the same purpose by the Muruts of the present day. It is supposed by the Kadayans to have been buried there before their conversion.

As a rule, these hill-men are never oppressed; a few, however, who seem to have had claims over them, originating in debts due by their ancestors, were seized in April, 1861, by the widow of the late sultan, and put in irons until some demands of hers should be satisfied. The whole city was thrown into confusion by this proceeding; all the Kadayans assembled under their chiefs, stopped the supplies of food, and threatened an attack from the neighbouring hills; deputations of nobles waited on the lady, and begged her to let go the men, but she sturdily refused. For three days every man was prepared to defend his portion of the town; business was suspended, and fears and panics prevailed; till at last her relations gave way to the anger of the rest of the inhabitants, and insisted upon her letting her prisoners go.

The Kadayans have great influence in the city, on account of their agricultural pursuits; they supply large amounts of rice, and nearly all the fruit and vegetables. I have wandered over their districts, and never have I seen more lovely spots than are to be found at Upper Butil, Limapas, and in the interior of the Kadayan river. The groves of fruit-trees are immense, and no idea can be formed of them, unless we imagine our pear and apple trees of the size of the most gigantic elms. They are generally planted on the gentle slopes of low hills, and the cool and well-shaded paths among them are dry and pleasant to tread.

The Kadayans are devoted to the pañgeran tumanggong, and will not, I believe, consent to any other noble succeeding to the present sultan. They are not a warlike race, but they are united. In commercial affairs this may be especially noticed: a meeting of their chiefs takes place, they settle the price of rice, and none of their followers will swerve from it.

About a thousand of these men have lately gone over to our little colony of Labuan, to settle there as planters, and the heavy forest is falling in all directions before them. Having mentioned this island, I will make a few remarks upon it. Labuan possesses one of the finest forests I have seen in Borneo, and is admirably situated for three objects--to suppress piracy, to influence the neighbouring countries, and to increase commerce by many means. Among the last, I may mention the numerous coal seams which are found in the island; that they have not been yet developed is no matter of surprise to those who are familiar with the early management; and that they will be hereafter of the utmost importance is the confident belief of those who are best acquainted with the island. My own opinion is, that the working will prove a most lucrative speculation, if proper care be taken in the choice of those who are to conduct the affairs of the new Labuan coal company.

No better spot could be chosen as one of the stations for the telegraph wires on their way’ to China. From Singapore, stated in round numbers, to Sarawak is 400 miles; to Labuan, 350 miles; to Manilla, 600 miles; to Hong Kong, 600 miles more. If Manilla be avoided, a station might be formed on one of the isles off Palawan.

Labuan, managed by an officer who made himself well acquainted with the character of the people inhabiting the neighbouring countries, might, with a slight support from the navy, exert great influence. I must mention one good Labuan has already done: it has changed the character of slavery. Formerly, the Bornean masters could treat their dependants as harshly as they pleased; now it is a common saying, “If we are not gentle towards our slaves, they will run to Labuan.” In fact, latterly very little restraint was laid on the freest intercourse with this island on the part of the masters, as far as concerned the males; but the females they tried by every means to prevent leaving. Yet hundreds of women visit Labuan, and can stay there if they please.

The trade of our colony is small, though it is increasing, while that of Brunei is rapidly decreasing, and recent arrangements will tend to accelerate its fall. I should mention that there are many districts in the neighbourhood of Labuan in which pepper is cultivated, and this produce is slowly increasing in quantity in the market; but could the Governor of Labuan have the means at his disposal to influence the neighbouring coast, the pepper cultivation would rapidly advance. It is now grown in the districts of Kalias, Bundu, Tanah Merah, Qualla Lama, Membakut, Papar, Mengkabong, and Tawaran.

Sago at present is the principal export, though some valuable products, as white birds’ nests, camphor, wax, rattans, and occasionally pearls are brought from the north. No place could be better situated than Labuan to draw to it the trade of the Sulu archipelago and of the north-east coast of Borneo, and its doing so will depend on the amount of influence it is permitted to exercise.

It is a curious circumstance, that the natives of many of the districts to the north of Labuan assert that before civil strife and pirates drove trade from their coasts, they used to supply the Chinese and Javanese markets with a large amount of cotton. This plant is still cultivated, though to a very limited extent.

I have referred to the very fine forest which clothes the surface of Labuan: among the forest trees are the camphor and the damar; the former produces the valuable Kapur barus of commerce, and is a very handsome tree, rising in a fine stem ninety or a hundred feet before it throws out a branch, and then presents a well-shaped head, with dense foliage. Its timber is lasting, and is much liked for planks and beams of houses. In the forests of Labuan I have often come across fine trees felled by the natives in search of the camphor, as this product can only be obtained by destroying the tree, as it exists in a concrete form in the interstices of the trunk. But I have heard natives say, that occasionally they cut down one which has a decayed portion, and in this they find the finest camphor. It is possible that these decayed portions may arise from former seekers cutting holes in the tree to discover whether there were sufficient camphor to render it worth while to fell the tree, a practice they carry on to the present day. An oil is also collected from this tree, which rubbed over a chest of drawers will effectually prevent the invasion of insects.

This method of obtaining the camphor is very wasteful compared to the way gamboge is collected. I have never seen an account given of it, so I will introduce it here:--The tree is found in Kambodia, the province of Chantibun in Siam, the islands on the eastern coast of the Gulf of Siam, and the southern part of Cochin China. The small plants which were brought to Bangkok were woody, with thick ovate leaves; the tree in full growth is large, measuring often five feet in circumference, and rising to a considerable height. At the commencement of the rainy season, the gamboge seekers start for the forest in search of the trees, which are occasionally plentiful. Having found a full-grown one, they make a spiral incision in the back round half its circumference, and place a joint of bamboo to catch the sap, which percolates slowly from it for many months. When it first issues from the tree, it looks like a yellowish fluid, which after passing through a viscous state, hardens into the gamboge of commerce with a crystal-like fracture. The flowers of the tree are said to resemble those of the egg-plant, and the fruit is small and globular. The time of gathering it depends much on the fancy of the people, as some declare that it is injurious to seek it in wet weather, and prefer the very driest months. The trees grow both in the valleys and on the mountains, and an average one will yield three joints of bamboo, twenty inches in length, by one and a half in diameter. The tree appears to suffer no injury if the gamboge be collected every other year, but if it be tapped each season, it shortens its life. Like every other nation, the Kambodians are fond of adding adulterations, and mix with it rice, flour and sand, while others pulverise the bark, to add to its weight; but this last operation is soon found out, as it imparts to the article a greenish tinge.

The damar trees in Labuan are remarkably fine. I have seen one measured one hundred and twenty feet to the first branch, and eighteen feet in circumference above twenty feet from the ground. Labuan is also stocked with excellent trees for spars. I may add that petroleum is found in considerable quantities floating on the surface of water in the jungle; but I think no examination has been made as to the probable yield of these oil-springs.

Before concluding my observations on Labuan, I may remark it possesses a very excellent harbour, of easy approach. The great success of our colony will depend, however, on its yield of coal.

The coal-fields of Borneo are as extensive as the island. It is reported in Maludu Bay; found in Gaya Island; is everywhere discoverable on the mainland opposite Labuan; has been traced in Baram, in Bintulu, through the Sarawak districts to Banjermasin on the southern coast. They must some day prove of the greatest importance.

Continuing my notice of the capital, I may explain that the whole direct revenue of the sultan does not exceed 2,500_l._ a year, except what he may obtain in produce from his dependent tribes, which scarcely supports the current expenses of his household.

The Brunei government possesses no armed force beyond the power of calling out the population as militia, who rarely respond to the call, as they are neither fed nor paid during their time of service, and are generally required to perform acts repugnant to their real interests. It possesses neither war boats nor police, and is incapable of organizing an expedition to attack a neighbouring district, and is, without exception, one of the most contemptible semblances of power that ever existed. As I have said before, it has the name of government, but not the reality.

Crime is unpunished, if committed by a relative or a follower of a high noble, as no one will act against him for fear of the enmity of his chief. There is a man in Brunei, named Sirudin Buñgkul, who is the most notorious thief in the capital. He lives in very good style on the result of his achievements, and is admitted into the best society. He is never punished, as he is a follower of the chief minister, the pañgeran bandhara. He appears to be clever, as he manages to quiet the dogs, and has never been taken in the act of robbery; in fact, few would dare to attempt to seize a man naked to the waist, well oiled, and carrying a drawn kris in his hand. When in want of funds, he makes a visit to the different shops to inspect; he is always treated with a kind of familiar deference, and the Chinese are kept in a state of nervousness till his _coup_ has come off. Petty thefts are common, but few extensive robberies; and yet it is not difficult to get into leaf-houses, particularly of the Chinese, who sleep heavily after their opium and spirits.

It is not surprising that these men occasionally commit crimes when an example is set by the highest officers of state. Makota, who was in the habit of getting into debt, and seldom troubling himself about payment, owed a Chinese trader, Si Panjang, a considerable sum of money. The constant dunning of this creditor at last produced a quarrel, and the Chinese used some expressions which Makota considered very insulting; so next morning he sent the Bindari, one of his officers, to affix a notice to Si Panjang’s door, giving notice that he was no longer under the protection of government. Five days after a fire burst out in that dwelling, which not only consumed the trader’s house, but extended so as to burn down half the Chinese quarter, and the loss was estimated at 20,000_l._ Though long suspected, the fact was not made clear till after Makota’s death. The fire took place in July, 1856, two months before I took up my residence in Brunei.

Thefts and robberies are nominally punished by cutting off the hand, but this penalty has fallen into disuse since the advent of the English. There are, however, two men to be seen about the town who have lost a hand as a punishment. Sometimes a fine is inflicted, but generally the culprit is let off after a few days in the stocks.

It is an interesting fact, that the sultan and many of the older men always fix an event by saying this occurred before or after the fall of ashes, referring to that awful eruption which took place in April, 1815, when the mountain of Timboro in Sambawa burst forth and covered every country near with a fall of ashes. Sir Stamford Raffles has given a graphic account of it in his “_History of Java_”, and I only mention the fact now, as Brunei, where some of the ashes fell, must be above nine hundred miles from the volcano. At Sarawak it is also constantly referred to.

I have described in a previous chapter the appearance of the river, but I have not mentioned that here I have most often heard the singing or hummingfish, which sticks to the bottom of the boats, and produces a sound something like that of a Jew’s-harp struck slowly, though sometimes it increases in loudness so as to resemble the full sound and tones of an organ. My men have pointed me out a fish about four inches long as the author of the music. It is marked with alternate stripes of black and yellow across the back.

They have a curious method of catching prawns in this river: a man sits in the stern of a canoe, a little on one side, so as to make its edge towards the bank almost on a level with the water, and but a foot from the mud. On the same side he has an immense comb fastened at the stern, which, at an angle, stretches beyond the bows of the canoe, and sweeps the bank. The prawns congregating at the very edge of the mud, make a spring to avoid the teeth of the comb; and in doing so, nearly always fall into the boat. The comb is simply a long bamboo, with holes drilled into one side, into which are inserted pieces of thin bamboo or wood about two feet long at the farther end, and gradually lessening as they approach the fisherman.

I may also mention that the Malays are very fond of the following sport. They collect many hundred bundles of the roots of the tuba-plant, and beat them out in their canoes, keeping them wet, and permitting the juice, which has an intoxicating property, to flow into the bottom of their boats. When they have sufficient, they throw it into the water at the mouths of the rivers just at the turn of the flood-tide; and the fish, feeling its effects, either rise to the surface completely intoxicated, or, in the case of the large ones, sufficiently stupefied to be easily speared. It is an exciting sport when several hundred men in light canoes are engaged in it. It is a superstition that while they are occupied in this amusement, should a boat pass the mouth of the river, and the crew beat the water with their paddles, the tuba would lose its intoxicating power.

Until late years, the general use of money was unknown in the capital. When I first visited it, ordinary commercial transactions were carried on in pieces of gray shirting, valued at 12_s._ 6_d._; of nankin, valued at 10_d._; and of bits of iron, worth about a farthing: the last were manufactured by cutting off pieces of an inch long from a bar of English iron, the common size of which was an inch and a half in breadth by half an inch in thickness. Now, neither the nankin nor the iron circulates, their places being taken by English copper coin and China cash. The gray shirting still holds its place, but its value is fallen, and lately it has ranged from 6_s._ to 8_s._ The Brunei government, to prevent the constant disputes that arose, made it a legal tender at 6_s._ 8_d._ Mexican dollars are now becoming plentiful.

One other article is also much used as money, and that is brass guns. In buying and selling you constantly hear, “I will give so many pounds, or hundredweights, of gun-metal.”

The Borneans are famous for their manufacture of brass guns, which are constantly cast in their frail houses to the imminent danger of the neighbourhood. They principally turn out small wall-pieces, and now trust much for their metal to selected Chinese brass cash. The Malays are clever at this work: a Javanese has lately cast an excellent 12-pounder brass howitzer for the Sarawak Government. Sulu used to be very famous for its krises; now Brunei is attempting to rival her, and has produced some very handsome weapons. In both places they prefer the iron that is taken off the bales of English cotton goods, as the toughest and the best.

The custom my brother Bayle mentions in his _Levantine Family_ of preserving an article for years, rather than lower its price, is very common in Brunei. Jeludin Hitam, a rich trader, purchased, in his younger days, a large quantity of camphor, white birds’ nests, and pearls, and received, in payment of some other goods, several hundred pieces of gray shirting, at 12_s._ 6_d._ The breaking out of the Chinese war of 1841 lowered the price of all articles intended for that market. He tried to sell at former rates, but no one would buy; he refused to lower his price, so kept the goods till his death in 1859. On examining them it was found that the gray shirtings were rotten, and had to be thrown away, while all his other goods were sold for half their former value. A native always asks a higher price than he intends to take, as he knows his customer will “tawar,” or cheapen.

I may add that on the death of Jeludin Hitam the sultan declared himself his heir, and succeeded to all his property, which, however, did not amount to half that was expected, as it was whispered the daughter concealed a large amount of the gold. When Makota was slain, the sultan took possession of his property, but the most active search failed in finding any gold, though it was well known that he had been accustomed to invest all his money in moidores. But the fact was, Makota did not trust his wife, and therefore always carried his wealth about with him in a box, and after his death it was secreted by one of his sons who happened to be in the same district at the time his father was killed.

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