[6] From £16,600 to £25,000. [↑]
[7] Rice-fields. The difference between sawahs, and gagahs, and tipars is in the mode of cultivation. [↑]
[9] Aloon-aloon—a square in front of a chief’s residence, ornamented with beautiful trees,—called waringi. [↑]
[10] Mantrie = upper servant—properly an overseer of the building department, and of agriculture. [↑]
CHAPTER VI.
[CONTINUATION OF STERN’S COMPOSITION.]
The Controller Verbrugge was a good man. When you saw him sitting there in his blue cloth dress-coat, embroidered with oak and orange branches on collar and cuffs, you could not have found a better type of the Dutchman in India, who, by the way, is quite different from the Dutchman in Holland. Slow as long as there was nothing to be done; far from that fussiness, which in Europe is mistaken for zeal, but zealous where business required attention; plain, but cordial to those around him; communicative, willing to help, and hospitable; very polite without stiffness; susceptible of good impressions; honest and sincere, without wishing to be a martyr to these qualities;—in short, he was a man, who, as they say, could make himself at home anywhere, yet without making any one think of calling the century by his name—an honour which, in truth, he did not desire.
He was sitting in the middle of the ‘pendoppo,’ near [[75]]the table, which was covered with a white cloth, and well furnished with viands. Rather impatiently from time to time, in the words of Mrs. Bluebeard’s sister, he asked the mandoor—[that is, the chief of police, and officials under the Assistant Resident]—if there was nothing to be seen. Then he got up, tried in vain to make his spurs clatter on the hard clay floor of the ‘pendoppo,’ lighted his cigar, and sat down again. He spoke little; but could have spoken more, for he was not alone.——I do not refer to the twenty or thirty Javanese servants, ‘mantries,’ and overseers, who sat squatting on the ground in the ‘pendoppo,’ nor to the numbers who incessantly ran in and out, nor to those of different rank, that held the horses outside, or rode on horseback;—the Regent of Lebak himself, Radeen Adhipatti Karta Natta Negara, sat facing him. To wait is always tiresome: a quarter of an hour seems an hour; an hour half a day, and so on. Verbrugge might have been more talkative. The Regent of Lebak was an intelligent old man, who could speak on many subjects with sense and judgment: one had only to look at him to be convinced that most of the Europeans who came in contact with him had more to learn from him than he from them. His clear dark eyes contradicted by their fire the weariness of his features and his grey hairs. What he said was generally well considered, which is indeed generally the case with cultivated Orientals; and you perceived, if you were in a conversation with him, that [[76]]you had to consider his words as letters, of which he had the copy in his archives, in order to recall them if necessary. This may appear disagreeable to those who are not accustomed to converse with Javanese grandees, yet it is very easy to avoid in conversation all topics that might become a stumbling-block, for they will never abruptly give another direction to the course of the conversation; because, according to Eastern ideas, this would be contrary to politeness. Thus every one who has reason to avoid speaking on a certain subject has only to speak about insignificant matters, and he may rest assured that a Javanese chief will not, by giving the conversation an unwished-for turn, bring him upon ground which he does not like to tread upon.
On the mode of dealing with these chiefs there are also different opinions. I think that sincerity alone, without any attempt at diplomatic prudence, deserves preference. Be that as it may, Verbrugge began with an observation on the weather and the rain.