The Expedition to Borneo of H.M.S. Dido / For the Suppression of Piracy

by Sir Henry Keppel; Rajah of Sarawak James

The operation of extracting the brains from the lower part of the skull, with a bit of bamboo shaped like a spoon, preparatory to preserving, is not a pleasing one. The head is then dried, with the flesh and hair on it, suspended over a slow fire, during which process the chiefs and elders of the tribe perform a sort of war-dance.

Soon after daylight the following morning (Thursday, 15th) the chiefs of the tribe came down with a flag of truce, when much the same sort of conference took place as at Paddi. They were equally submissive, offering their own lives, but begging those of their wives and children might be spared. After promising to accede to all we desired, they agreed to attend the conference about to assemble at Sarāwak, where the only terms on which they could expect lasting peace and mutual good understanding would be fully explained and discussed.

Like their friends at Paddi, they were of opinion that their neighbors at Rembas would not abstain from piracy until they had received convincing proof that the power existed which was capable and determined to put down piracy. All these misguided people appeared not only to listen to reason, but to be open to conviction; and I am far from imputing to them that treachery so commonly attributed to all classes of Malays. The higher grades, I admit, are cunning and deceitful; but subsequent events during the last two years have proved the truth and honesty of the intentions of these people. They have strictly adhered to their promises; and have since, although surrounded by piratical tribes, been carrying on a friendly trade with Sarāwak.

Our next point of attack was Rembas. Although there was a nearer overland communication between those places, the distance by water was upward of sixty miles; but the strong tides were of great assistance, as we could always rest when they were against us. High water was the only time, however, that suited us for landing, as the fall of tide left a considerable space of soft mud to wade through before reaching terra firma: this was sufficiently unpleasant to our men, without the additional trouble of having to load and fire when in that position; besides, when stuck fast in the mud, you become a much easier object to be fired at. At Rembas the tide was not up until just before daylight; and, having no moon to light us, a night attack was not considered advisable; so that we brought up about a quarter tide below the town, on the evening of the 16th. As Rembas contained a larger proportion of Malays (who are always well supplied with firearms) than the other settlements, though we had not experienced any opposition at Pakoo, we fully expected they would here make a better stand.

We advanced early in the morning, and soon came up with a succession of formidable barriers, more troublesome to cut through than any we had before encountered. About a mile below the town we landed 700 of the Linga Dyaks on the left bank of the river, who were to separate into two divisions—commanded by Seriff Jaffer and his son, a remarkably fine and spirited youth—and creep stealthily through the jungle, for which the country was well adapted, so as to get to the rear of the town and forts, and make a simultaneous attack on the first shot being fired from our boats. The last barrier (and there were four of them) was placed just within point-blank range; the gig being a light boat, I managed to haul her over, close to the bank, and advanced so as to be both out of sight and out of range; and just as our first boat came up with the barrier, I pushed out from under the bank, and opened a fire of musketry on the stockade, which was full of men. This, with the war-yell that followed from their rear (both unexpected), together with their fears having been already worked upon by the destruction of Paddi and defeat of Pakoo, threw them into the greatest confusion. They fled in all directions, without provoking us by firing a shot, although we found the guns loaded. Seriff Jaffer and his Dyaks were gratified by having all the fighting to themselves, and by some very pretty hand-to-hand encounters. We were much amused, afterward, by their own account of the heroic deeds they had performed. Lives were lost on both sides, and heads taken. This Rembas was by far the largest and strongest place we had assaulted. We found some very large war-boats, both fitted and building; one measured ninety-two feet in length, with fourteen beam; and in addition to the usual good supply of fruit, goats, and poultry, our men were gratified by finding several bullocks. The plunder was great; and although, with the exception of the guns, of no value to us, it was very much so to our native followers.

After we had destroyed every thing, we received a flag of truce, when similar explanations and promises were made as at Paddi and Pakoo; and here ended for the present, the warlike part of our expedition. The punishment we had inflicted was severe, but not more than the crime of their horrid piracies deserved. A few heads were brought away by our Dyak followers, as trophies; but there was no unnecessary sacrifice of life, and I do not believe there was a woman or child hurt. The destruction of these places astonished the whole country beyond description. In addition to the distance and difficulty of access to their strongly-fortified positions, they looked for protection from the bore that usually ran up the Sarebus, and which they imagined none but their own boats could manage. As the different Malay chiefs heard that, in ten days, a handful of white men had totally destroyed their strongholds, they shook their heads, and exclaimed, “God is great!” and the Dyaks declared that the Tuan Besar (Mr. Brooke) had charmed the river to quiet the bore,[1] and that the whites were invulnerable. Although this expedition would have a great moral effect on all the more respectable and thinking natives, inasmuch as the inhabitants of the places destroyed were looked upon, from the large proportion of Malays, as more civilized than their formidable and savage neighbors, the Dyaks inhabiting the Sakarran river; still, it was not to be supposed, when the settlements of Paddi, Pakoo, and Rembas could not be responsible for the good behavior of one another, that it was probable the severe lesson taught them would have any great effect on the Sakarrans.

On regaining the tope at Boling, we found our assistant surgeon, Dr. Simpson, who had been left in charge of the sick, laid up with fever and ague. For conveniencyʼs sake, the wounded men had been removed to a large native boat; and while the doctor was passing along the edge of the boat, his foot slipped, he fell overboard, and not being much of a swimmer, and a strong tide running, he was a good while in the water, though a native went after him. He had, for some time past, been in bad health; but the cold he then caught brought on inflammation in the lungs, under the effects of which he sank soon after our return to Singapore. Poor Simpson! he was not only clever in his profession, but endeared to us all by his kind and gentle manner, so grateful to the sick. There were few of us, while in China, who had not come under his hands, and experienced his tender, soothing, and unremitting attention.

We now gave our native followers permission to depart to their respective homes, which they did loaded with plunder, usually, in India, called loot; ourselves getting under weigh to rejoin the Dido off the Island of Burong, and from thence we proceeded to the mouth of the Morotaba, where, leaving the ship, Mr. Brooke and I went in my boat, with two others in attendance, to take leave of the rajah, prior to my return to Singapore and China. Although the greater part of the native boats attached to the expedition had already arrived at Sarāwak, the rajah had sent them back, some miles down the river, with as many others as he could collect, gorgeously dressed out with flags, to meet Mr. Brooke and myself, the heroes of the grandest expedition that had ever been known in the annals of Malayan history. Our approach to the grand city was, to them, most triumphant, although to us a nuisance. From the moment we entered the last reach, the saluting from every gun in the capital that could be fired without bursting was incessant; and as we neared the royal residence, the yells, meant for cheers, and the beating of gongs, intended to be a sort of “See, the conquering hero comes!” were quite deafening. The most minute particulars of our deeds, of course greatly exaggerated, had been detailed, long before our arrival, by the native chiefs, who were eye-witnesses; and when we were seated in the rajahʼs presence, the royal countenance relaxed into a smile of real pleasure as he turned his wondering eyes from Mr. Brooke to myself and back again. I suppose he thought a great deal of us, as he said little or nothing; and, as we were rather hungry after our pull, we were very glad to get away once more to Mr. Brookeʼs hospitable board, to which we did ample justice.

My stay at Sarāwak was but of short duration, as, before I had time to carry out the arrangements I had made to put down this horrid traffic, the Dido was, owing to some changes in the distribution of the fleet, recalled to China.

As the tide would not suit for my return to the Dido until two oʼclock the following morning, we sat up until that hour, when, with mutual regret, we parted. I had just seen enough of Borneo and my enterprising friend, Mr. Brooke, to feel the deepest interest in both. No description of mine can in any way give my readers a proper idea of the character of the man I had just then left; and however interesting his journal may appear in the reading, it is only by being in his company, and by hearing him advocate the cause of the persecuted inland natives, and listening to his vivid and fair description of the beautiful country he has adopted, that one can be made to enter fully into and feel what I would fain describe, but can not.