CHAPTER XIX.

Leave Batavia and anchor off Hoorn Island—Islands about the Bengal Passage—Gingiong roads—Lofty aspect of the land—The coast—The golden mountain—Island of Sumatra—Aspect of the country—The lover’s leap—Village of Pedir—Ships of the Acheenese Rajah—Visit to the Rajah—Dense vegetation—Buffaloes—Ba Assan trees—Hall of reception—Interview with his Highness—Commercial negociations—Curiosity of the natives—The Areka or Betel-nut—Flowering shrubs and plants—Rice-planting—Return to the ship—A prohibition.

At daylight, on the 2nd of June, I left Batavia for the Pedir Coast, on the north-east part of the large island of Sumatra; and, about noon, it being calm, anchored off Hoorn Island, in the Great Channel. This island is a mere reef, or sand-bank, with trees of some elevation upon it, which impart a higher aspect to it than on landing it is in reality found to possess. The passage, by the western coast of Sumatra, was tedious; light and variable winds and calms being very often experienced, although we kept some hundred of miles from the coast;[138] it was, therefore, not until the morning of the 28th of June, that elevated land was seen, being the islands about the “Bengal Passage,” which we entered about half past ten o’clock, A.M., having on one side the lofty wooded island of “Pulo Brasse,”[139] and “Pulo Nancie,” and opposite to them, the elevated island, rich in vegetation, of “Pulo Way.” “Pulo Rondo” was also visible in the distance.

Our progress through the passage was but slow, with a moderate south wind; and a strong westerly current considerably impeded the vessel. On entering further in the passage, we became more under the influence of the high land, and the breeze diminished. The weather was showery and unsettled, and the ship anchored in the evening in “Gingiong roads,” in eleven fathoms, about five or six miles distant from the wooded coast.

The land had a lofty aspect, abounding in profuse vegetation, and was possessed of much romantic and picturesque beauty. Since we entered the passage, and proceeded along the coast, the mountains rose in peaked and various fantastic groups, forming the back view of the landscape; the low land, near the beach, was covered with timber; hills rose gradually one beyond another, terminated by lofty mountains, towering in the distance; the whole covered by a dense vegetation. At this time, the view was occasionally impeded by fleecy clouds passing over, giving afterwards an increased, animated appearance to the scene, by the refreshing showers they produced. At some distance from the main land, straggling rocks were sometimes seen, either rising solitary, or in clusters from the ocean’s depths; some covered with a scanty vegetation, whilst the bare summits and declivities of others had a volcanic character: around their bases, the breakers dashed furiously, and the white foam raged against those rugged sides, which had stood the violence of a thousand tempests, serving as a place of refuge for boobies, tropic, and other oceanic birds, which here congregate and rear their progeny, free from molestation.

The coast, as we proceeded, maintained its picturesque character, the high land being clothed with timber, and the low coast trending between the more elevated parts, of a somewhat similar character to some portions of the island of Java and other islands of the Indian Archipelago, was profusely covered with vegetation. On “Pulo Way,” several clear, and apparently cultivated patches of land were visible, and smoke of fires; but no habitations could be perceived. Most of the island was a dense jungle, seeming only calculated as a refuge for wild animals in the midst of its wilderness of luxuriant vegetation. The coast off which we had anchored this evening, was, for the most part, low; except the land being elevated as it rose from the “Point Pedro,” but it was not of such a verdant character as the mountainous coast we had previously passed during the day. The low land, however, abounded in trees; among which, the cocoa-nut palm was both numerous and conspicuous.

The following morning, at sunrise, the atmosphere was delightfully cool and refreshing; and the land-breeze brought off with it a delicious fragrance. At daylight, we weighed, passed “Point Pedro,” and then the vessel sailed at a distance only of three miles from the shore, in from twelve to fourteen fathoms water, which afforded an excellent view of the varying features of the Acheenese coast, as we proceeded. During the early part of the morning, the towering, peaked summit of the “Golden Mountain” was visible and perfectly clear; but as the day advanced, it became capped with clouds: it was elevated far above the mountains in the vicinity, and seems situated some distance inland. The west side of the mountain was clothed with wood to the summit, and exhibits nothing in its aspect from which the name of “Golden” could be supposed to be derived; but, as the Malays term it the “Gonnong Mas,” or Golden Mountain, it has probably obtained the appellation from them on account of gold having been found upon it; and the English name is merely a translation of the Malay. The eastern side of the mountain has a similar densely wooded appearance from the base to the summit, as just mentioned of the western.

The morning was fine and clear; and as we sailed along the high picturesque coast of this portion (north-east) of the beautiful island of Sumatra, with light and variable winds from west-south-west to north-west, it was extremely agreeable; but, at the same time often caused me to feel regret that I could not revel amidst the botanical and other natural productions the coast and adjacent hills seemed to produce in profusion. Besides the elevated “Golden Mountain,” there were many of great height, some of a saddle form, and the crateric summits of others imparted additional importance to the beautiful romantic scenery around them.

The hills became less wooded as we advanced to the eastward, and lost much of their tropical character. This peculiar feature of the country was, however, occasionally resumed—a sandy beach, upon which large trees were scattered, with a few thatched habitations of the natives, peeping from the dense foliage of the trees which grew about, with the cocoa-nut palms waving their feathered branches above them—this again gave the tropical character to our view; but the receding hills terminating in mountainous country, now but thinly covered with vegetation, varied the landscape, and it possessed little to remind the stranger of inter-tropical scenery.

It was soon after noonday, when we passed the bluff point, named in the charts, the “Lover’s Leap,” and the coast beyond maintained, for some distance, similar features to that we had passed, excepting some portions which had an increase of picturesque beauty: the receding hills were not so elevated; white cliffs, bare of shrubs or any kind of vegetation, rose almost perpendicularly from the beach about the “Lover’s Leap;” but still further eastward, the coast again abounded in trees. Hills rose above hills, having, in part, a cleared appearance; but, in general, vegetation was most abundant. Lofty mountains formed the distant prospect; above the whole of which, the “Golden Mountain” reared its peaked summit, terminating the rich and varied landscape in an extremely beautiful manner.

From the few houses and canoes seen about this part of the coast, there seems to be a paucity of inhabitants, and no cultivation of the land was visible. The natives, however, may live in the fertile valleys, a short distance from the sea-coast, and concealed from our view. The wind and current being adverse, it was impossible for the ship to make any progress, and we therefore anchored about seven P.M. in twelve fathoms, a few miles to the eastward of the “Lover’s Leap.”

The next day we proceeded along the coast, the features of which were similar to that before described; but beyond “Pedir Point,” the country assumed a more populous and cultivated appearance: cocoa-palms abounded on the beach; thatched houses of the natives were numerous, and canoes and larger boats were busily fishing; the whole aspect of the coast was animated and picturesque. From light winds and calms, and strong adverse currents, we were often obliged to anchor, and did not reach the anchorage off the village of Pedir until the afternoon of the subsequent day (the 1st of July).

The situation of “Pedir” is an extensive, fertile flat, interspersed with low verdant hills, and the distance terminating in lofty mountains, covered most profusely with vegetation. The village of “Pedir” (from which some extent of coast, to the eastward, has been named by Europeans the “Pedir Coast”) is situated a short distance up a small and narrow river: the residence of the rajah, and a portion of the village, could be distinguished from the shipping in the roadstead. The plain through which the river flows, and upon the banks of which the village of Pedir is situated, is an extensive flat, or, for the most part, a series of marshes abounding in rice plantations, and extending to some distance inland, apparently terminated by a dense jungle and ranges of mountains towering one above the other; to the westward it becomes hilly, trending out towards “Pedir Point;” and to the eastward terminates in lofty mountains, at some distance. This description is given from the appearance of the country as seen from the anchorage. The whole line of coast has a beautiful and luxuriant character, abounding in cocoa-nut, areka, and other palms; and beneath the trees the thatched roofs of native houses are occasionally seen.

Some vessels, belonging to the rajah of Acheen, were at anchor off “Pedir;” and others, having English colours flying, off the villages further to the eastward. The ships belonging to the Acheenese rajah were designated “men of war;” but a “grab,” among the number, was the only one originally the property of his highness, for it had just conquered the barque, at whose peak the Acheenese colours waved, but which had been the property of the rajah of Trumong, who resided on the west coast of Sumatra, and with whom the Acheenese monarch was at war: the remaining one under the Acheenese flag, was an English brig, of Penang, last from the Maldive Islands, with a cargo of dried fish: she was seized for trading in arms and ammunition with a rajah on the coast, who was at the time hostile to the king of Acheen. I shall have occasion to return to the latter affair at another part of this work.

The vessels were rigged in the European style, appeared of English build, and carried guns like merchant ships. They hoisted a huge, broad, red pennant, and the Acheenese ensign, the field of which was red, the central ornaments of a white colour.

Soon after we anchored, an old moorman came off to the ship, from the rajah, and arrangements were made to accompany him on shore the next morning to pay our respects to his highness.

On the morning of the following day, I accompanied Mr. Henry Fearon, (the supercargo), and the commander, on a visit to the shore, to have an interview with the rajah; one of his attendants having previously been on board, bearing a multitude of salaams from his highness, and intimating that he would be happy to receive the gentlemen arrived in the ship. At the entrance of the river, we crossed the bar, upon which a surf is continually breaking, more violently at low water, or when the sea breeze blows fresh, than at high water.[140] At this time there was comparatively but little surf, so we passed without getting wet. We then entered the small winding river, which, although deep at some parts, suddenly shoaled at others, except the channel was kept, which usually had a sufficient draught of water for light boats; but an inexperienced person had better have a native to pilot him, which prevents the annoyance of continually getting the boat perched upon spits and sand-banks. The course of the river is very serpentine; and after entering it, the banks are covered with shrubs and plants, forming a dense vegetation, among which Acanthus ilicifolia, covered by a profusion of cærulean blossoms and other flowering shrubs, were numerous, as also the Achrosticum aureum, and other ferns. Native houses appeared mingled with the graceful, waving bamboo, cocoa palms, plantains, and other trees.

After proceeding a short distance up the river, we arrived at the small village of Pedir, which is a collection of thatched Malay habitations. Herds of buffaloes were refreshing themselves in the stream, and had a strange appearance when seen with only the head above water. The natives informed us that alligators were numerous in the river. We did not observe any during the time we remained at Pedir; and from the buffaloes not being attacked, it is probable they are not numerous about the lower part of the river. After bathing, the buffaloes not being troubled with many of the projections called hairs, had their hides covered with a thick coating of blue mud, which preserved them from the attacks of insects. Those on the banks, both old and young, stood, with their ludicrous physiognomies, staring at us as we passed them. A number of the small humpbacked Bengal breed of cattle were also observed feeding about the plain.

On leaving the ship, arms had been placed in the boat as a precautionary measure on this coast, where the natives are reported to be oftentimes unable to distinguish between meum and tuum; but on landing they were left in the boat, and our Jacks, not having the fear of the natives, or of a reprimand from their commander, before their eyes, took a morning’s walk about the village, leaving the boat, together with our weapons, under charge of a boy, which proved the precaution was needless, as the arms, reposing at the bottom of the boat, were in this instance equally as effective as if they had been in the hands of the men.

After landing, we were conducted through an extensive bazaar, planted with several shady trees, called Ba, assan, by the natives; the closeness of their foliage and extending branches affording an agreeable shelter from the fervour of the sun’s rays: the market seemed well supplied.

We were conducted from this to the “Hall of Reception” for strangers, which was a small room, elevated a short distance above the ground, opened on all sides, with an ornamental projecting roof: the ascent to it was by a rude bamboo ladder, like an approach to a hay-loft; but as the rajah ascended by the same staircase, of course we could not complain. On entering the room, we found some chairs of European manufacture, standing on four legs, but most of them minus arms, backs, &c. In these we were requested to seat ourselves until the rajah arrived. Some coarse mats were also laid upon the floor in the centre of the room—or perhaps cage would be a better nomenclature than room, for it was more like the latter than the former.

We waited patiently the arrival of the rajah for some time, surrounded and gazed at by several old, grave-looking, bearded Moormen, who remained silent, as their organs of mastication were almost incessantly engaged in chewing the “betel,” their teeth being blackened, and lips become of a brick-red colour, from the use of this masticatory: it is said that it is a good stomachic, causing the breath to be always sweet; and the assertion may be correct, for the breath of natives who are in the habit of chewing the aromatic compound is agreeable; but the discoloration of the teeth and mouth caused by its use, gives a disagreeable appearance to those who habituate themselves to it. Whilst delayed by the rajah, we were regaled by the pure and refreshing juice from some green cocoa-nuts: at length his highness arrived.

He was a young man of very dark, but handsomely-formed features, (darker by two shades than the Malays,) about five feet five or six inches in height, of slender form, and attired in the usual native Sarong; a yellow silk Sandalong, or sash, around the waist, in which a Kris, of handsome manufacture, was placed; a close Baju, or jacket, with plated buttons in front; upon his head a turban of white cloth, without any decorations; and gold bangles around his wrists and ancles: his attendants were almost all Moormen, or natives of Bengal and Madras; many from the latter countries, and others, of that extraction, born at this place. The rajah, although born here, had the appearance of being of Bengal parentage. The grave old gentlemen around were the principal spokesmen on affairs of business.

It was the object of Mr. Fearon to purchase a cargo of Areka-nut[141] for the China market, for which object he had brought dollars, opium, iron, lead, and steel. Most of the bearded gentlemen were traders in the Areka-nut; but a tall, thin, elderly, and shrewd old man, was the principal agent in the transactions between Mr. Fearon and the rajah, for the latter, like most rajahs, had but little to say on the affair, and from being young, had merely to approve of whatever was done. This agent, whom we designated “Minister of the Board of Trade,” proved to be uncle to the present rajah; this circumstance accounted for his having so much to do with the government affairs. After some common-place conversation, the commercial business was introduced; samples, or musters, of the quality of the nuts were shown; and an arrangement was entered into between the parties for the delivery of three thousand peculs in ten days, at the rate of one and a-half dollars the pecul, iron, steel, lead, and dollars, being given in exchange, at prices then agreed upon. This contract was ratified by the old trading minister, placing the right-hand of the supercargo into that of the rajah, repeating, as they remained with joined hands, the terms assented to; all agreements are made in the name of the rajah, and are written and signed by both parties. They had abundance of opium, as much, they informed us, as seven hundred chests unsold; it had been purchased at seven hundred dollars the chest, (the cost price at Batavia at this time,) but the Areka-nut had been delivered in exchange, at the rate of one dollar the pecul.[142]

After the commercial affairs had been settled, the rajah, ministers, and merchants, accompanied us about, and in the vicinity of the village, followed by a nondescript rabble. My collecting plants and insects amused some and puzzled others, and all were desirous of ascertaining for what purpose I required them; whether we had any flowers in our country? whether they were to feed animals? and the insects for birds on board the ship? but when at last they were informed I was a “curer of diseases,” they remained perfectly satisfied that I collected them for medicinal purposes, and without making another inquiry on the subject, resumed their almost perpetual conversation on the Areka or betel-nut. On the way the rajah gathered a plant, (Chenopodium family?) and giving it to me, said it was medicinal, and called by the Malays “Gunche, maju,” (signifying shirt-buttons,) and the name was probably applied to it from the elevated buds having some resemblance to them. The plant is used by the natives in the form of decoction, as an internal remedy for various diseases; and, as far as I could understand them, was possessed of emetic properties. It is a small plant, and grows abundantly on the banks of the Paddy fields, and on most of the waste land about the village.

Among a profusion of other flowering shrubs and plants was the Cassia occidentalis, (Bandram of the natives,) several species of Solanum; the pretty Vinca rosea, or rose periwinkle, Datura fastuosa, the fruit of which the natives told me would cause madness if eaten; it was named by them Tropungo; several species of Convolvoli; a species of Senecio, with a number of others, wild and cultivated, some of which exhaled fragrant odours; and a multitude of butterflies and other insects, vieing with one another in brilliancy and harmony of colours, flew about in apparent enjoyment of the fervent tropical sun, among the profusion of flowers which strewed the ground. The Jatropha curcas, or Bánawa of the natives, was planted, as well as the bamboo, for fences; rice-fields were numerous, but this being the dry season, the fields were dry, and the harvest collected, the variety of succulent and other plants that sprung up about them, afforded excellent feeding for the numerous herds of cattle rambling about.

During the rainy season, which occurs from about November to nearly the termination of the month of February, the planting of rice takes place; the fields, for the most part dry at the present time, are then overflown; the season of the rice harvest usually occurs in April. The country, although flat, had a pleasing fertile aspect, and when the vivid green or golden yellow of the rice plantation was added, its beauty must be still further increased.

The rajah, his followers, and the merchants, appear to be all Moormen, either natives of, or descendants from, those born in Hindostan. The bazaar trade appears for the most part also to be monopolized by them; the Malays seem the tillers of the soil, or subordinates, in other respects. The Hindostanee natives, or their descendants, are evidently the conquerors of the coast, and of course the heads of government are of that race. The rajah made Mr. Fearon a present of a small bullock, cocoa-nuts, plantains, sugar-canes, &c., and accepted an invitation to visit the ship the day following, when it would be requisite, from their professing the Mahometan creed, that “all pigs should be kept from grunting,” or getting an afternoon’s liberty.[143] About noon, taking leave of the rajah and his party, we returned on board.

At this place no canoes came off to the ship with fish, fowls, fruit, &c., for sale; none but those on business came to the ship, and Mr. Fearon was advised by the rajah not to allow any to do so. This appeared strange, as off the other villages to the eastward of Pedir, goats, fruit, fowls, yams, &c., were brought off for sale; but we afterwards had good reason for suspecting that some of the rajah’s followers were desirous of supplying the ship, placing their own prices on the articles, allowing a per centage to his highness, and thus contrived to have a prohibition placed on canoes coming alongside.