After Mr. Brookeʼs return from his expedition against the Singè Dyak chief Parembam, he was visited by his friend Captain Elliott, of the Madras engineers, whose acquaintance I had the pleasure of subsequently making at Singapore. He is, as Mr. Brooke describes him, “a man of science and education, and the best of good fellows.” During his stay at Sarāwak, he established his observatory, and all its apparatus; and a shed (now converted into a goat-house) will always retain the appellation of “the Observatory.” Mr. Brooke and Captain Elliott appear to have made some very amusing and agreeable excursions up the different rivers, an account of which is given in the journal; but I shall pass it over, as I am anxious to follow my friend through with his government up to the time of my meeting him at Singapore.
“Thursday, July 14th.—We were to have started on this most lucky day at ten oʼclock, but what with innumerable preparations and delays, it was near six before the rajah was ready to dismiss the procession; and my alarm became considerable that, Friday (an unlucky day) having commenced by the native reckoning, we should again be postponed till Sunday. However, by making six oʼclock five, and keeping back the watches to suit our purpose, our departure was achieved. The state spears and swords were brought forth. The letters for the sultan, in their brass tray covered with embroidered cloth, were duly mounted, with the greatest reverence, on the head of Bandar Sumsu; and nothing remained but to take leave. The rajah addressed a few words to his brothers, requesting them to tell the sultan that his heart was always with him; that he could never separate from him, whether far or near; and that he was, and always had been, true to his son. Budrudeen then rose, and approaching the rajah, seated himself close to him, bending his head to the ground over his hand, which he had grasped. The rajah hastily withdrew his hand, and clasping him round, embraced, kissing his neck. Both were greatly agitated and both wept, and I could have wept for company, for it was no display of state ceremony, but genuine feeling. It is seldom, very seldom, they show their feelings; and the effect was the more touching from being unexpected; beside, it is a part of our nature (oneʼs better nature) to feel when we see others feel. Pangeran Marsale followed; both brothers likewise parted with Muda Mahammed in the same way, and they certainly rose in my opinion from this token of affection toward each other. My adieus followed; we all rose; the rajah accompanied us to the wharf; and as we embarked, I could see the tears slowly steal from his eyes. I could not help taking his hand, and bidding him be of good cheer; he smiled in a friendly manner, pressed my hand, and I stepped into my boat. Our gongs struck up; the barge, decorated with flags and streamers, was towed slowly along against the flood-tide; the guns fired from the wharf, from the Chinese houses, and from our fort, and we passed along in all the pomp and pride of Sarāwak state. It was dusk when we got down to the first reach, and there we brought up to wait for the ebb.”
I shall omit that part of my friendʼs journal containing his remarks and observations along the coast between Sarāwak and the entrance of the Borneo river. On the 21st July his narration continues thus:
“I must now leave geography, and turn to politics. On casting anchor we acted on a plan previously formed, and sent off the gig, with Seriff Hussein and Nakoda Ahmed, to the city, to intimate my arrival, and that of the rajahʼs brothers, with letters from Muda Hassim. I trusted to their dread of and curiosity about the English expedition to insure my reception; but I gave particular directions, in case the sultan asked about me, that my ambassadors were to say I was here; that I had been corresponding about the English coming; that I was not a man in authority, or belonging to the East India Company; and that they were sure I should not land unless he invited me to come and see him. To show eagerness would have raised suspicion; backwardness excites the contrary feeling, and a desire to entertain some intercourse.
“July 22d.—At the unconscionable hour of 2 A.M., a mob of Pangerans came on board, in number not fewer than fifty, and with a multitude of followers. They awoke us out of our first sleep, and crowded the vessel above and below, so that we could scarce find room to make our toilet in public, while the heat was suffocating us. However, we did manage it, and sat talking till daylight. Our visitors were chiefly relations or adherents of Muda Hassim, and some of the first men in the country. Pangeran Budrudeen and Pangeran Marsale were in their glory, and happy; and it was evident at once that our affairs were likely to succeed to our heartʼs content. All were anxious and eager in inquiries about Muda Hassim, and wishing his return. The sultan, Pangeran Usop, Pangeran Mumin, and others declared, ‘Borneo could never be well till he came back.’ In short, it was clear that the country was in distress and difficulty from within: trade ruined, piracy abounding, the mouth of the river unsafe, their forts insulted by the pirates, the communication with their dependencies cut off, food dear, and the tobacco, which comes from the northward, not to be had. Everything conspires to forward Muda Hassimʼs views and mine; and during this conversation, it was evident they were looking to me as a friend.
“At daylight a boat from the sultan arrived to carry up the letters; but Budrudeen and his brother resolved to proceed first, in order to make sure of an honorable reception for the chop. At 7 oʼclock there was a stir. I saw them over the side with delight, and gave them a salute with pleasure. Breakfast done, I was too happy to lie down, and slept till past midday, having then only to wait for Budrudeenʼs return.
“23d.—Budrudeen came at 3 P.M., bringing with him good news of the most favorable reception from all parties, all wishing for reconciliation and the return of Muda Hassim. To-morrow, boats are to come for the letters, which are to be conveyed in state. The day following I am to go up, and am likewise to be received in all honorable form.
“24th.—At 7 A.M. the state-boat, a shabby concern, decorated with yellow flags, arrived, and at eight the letters were borne away under a salute. Thus we had a second time the satisfaction of getting rid of the mob at an early hour.
“25th.—At 9½ A.M. I started with Williamson in the gig, with the long-boat in company, carrying the presents. On approaching the town, before the ebb had run long, it appeared to be a very Venice of hovels, a river Cybele rising from the water. For those who like it, the locality is not ill chosen. The hills recede from the river, and form an amphitheatre; and several other rivers or streams flowing in, cause a muddy deposit, on which the houses are built. At high water they are surrounded; at low water stand on a sheet of mud. On nearing it, we were encompassed by boats which preceded and followed us, and we passed the floating market, where women, wearing immense hats of palm-leaves, sell all sorts of edibles, balanced in their little canoes, now giving a paddle, now making a bargain, and dropping down with the tide, and again regaining their place when the bargain is finished. The first impression of the town is miserable. The houses are crowded and numerous, and even the palace does not present a more captivating aspect, for, though large, it is as incommodious as the worst. Our presentation was exactly similar to that of our first meeting with Muda Hassim at Sarāwak, only the crowd was much greater. We had been seated but a few minutes when Pangeran Usop arrived, and directly afterward the sultan. He gave us tea, leaf-cigars, and sīrih, and, in short, showed us every attention; and what was best of all did not keep us very long. Our apartment was partitioned off from the public hall, a dark-looking place, but furnished with a table brought by us, and three rickety chairs, beside matresses and plenty of mats. We were kept up nearly all night, which, after the fatigues of the day, was hard upon us.
“Further observation confirmed us in the opinion that the town itself is miserable, and its locality on the mud fitted only for frogs or natives; but there is a level dry plain above the entrance of the Kiangi river, admirably suited for a European settlement; and across the Kiangi is swelling ground, where the residents might find delightful spots for their country-houses. The greatest annoyance to a stranger is the noisome smell of the mud when uncovered; and all plated or silver articles, even in the course of one night, get black and discolored. The inhabitants I shall estimate moderately at 10,000, and the Kadien population are numerous amid the hills.