The Lanuns, though fiercer and more warlike pirates, have ceased for several years to infest the north-west coast, but have more confined their cruises to the neighbourhood of the Spanish and Dutch settlements.
I was once very much interested by hearing a Dayak converse of the times when he went out with the Lanun pirates. We had just returned to Sarawak from a mission to the Court of Siam, and were visiting the Sibuyau Dayaks of Meradang, when the chief asked us where we had been. The rajah answered, To Siam. Immediately an intelligent-looking Dayak said, “I know Siam, and the country of Annam as well, for I in former years used to go there in the pirate boats.”
On inquiry we found that when the Lanun fleets came down this coast, they had numerous places where they received a hearty welcome, among others at Sadong: the Sibuyaus were employed by them to row their boats under a promise of receiving the heads of all the slain, and a very small share of the plunder. Many of those present had been out with the pirates along the coasts of Cochin China, Cambodia, Siam, and down the Malay Peninsula as far as Singapore. But the tables were subsequently turned, and the Lanuns preyed on their former allies. After our attack on Tungku, a man came off to us, and proved to be a captive taken at Sadong, but he evidently did not dislike his present position, as he went ashore again under the pretence of collecting other fugitives, and we saw no more of him; most probably he had married in the country. I have often heard the natives speak of a captain of an English man-of-war, named Morris, who committed suicide after an unsuccessful attack on the Lanun pirates at Sambas, about the year 1812, but I have never been able to verify the story.
Steamers, however, are beginning to disgust them with the life, and if a little combined and active effort were made by our steam gunboats, in conjunction with those of the Dutch and Spaniards, piracy might be effectually suppressed. Traders who were accustomed to the Sulu seas used to speak of the little island of Sarañgani, off the coast of Magindanau, as a mart where the pirates assembled to sell the captured slaves to those traders who frequented that port, and the latter were generally from Sulu, though occasionally a few Bagis prahus came in to purchase the women and children, but it is possible that many changes have since taken place.
I have before observed that Sulu was a great slave mart, and that pirates and slave-dealers of every kind were accustomed to resort there: it is not surprising, therefore, that the Spaniards should organize an attack upon it, but it was unfortunate that this attack should take place immediately after the sultan of Sulu had signed a treaty with the English, and I have little doubt that the object could have been better effected by a regular surveillance. But the Spanish authorities thought differently, and early in 1851 they sent to make demands on the sultan, and on these not being immediately complied with, the men-of-war opened fire upon the town, which was promptly replied to by the shore batteries. I saw a letter from the sultan of Sulu, recounting this engagement. He said that after “an awful cannonading, by the blessing of God we disabled two of their vessels, and they retired.”
But this was only a preliminary attack. In the following month a large naval force came down from Manilla, with seventeen hundred troops, and landing near the great tree at the watering-place, marched upon the town while the ships shelled it from the harbour. The Sulus behaved with great courage, and though opposed to regular soldiers, and defending a comparatively unprotected part of the town, as they had reckoned on an attack by sea, and not by land; they held their own for several hours, and it cost their enemy one hundred and fifty killed and wounded before they abandoned their houses and retired to the hills.
Datu Daniel and his brothers defended their stockade to the last, and it was here that the Spanish suffered their severest loss; several of the young Sulu nobles were killed, and the stockade carried by assault. The Spanish troops behaved very well. The town was then garrisoned, but it would have taken an army to subdue the whole island, as on losing Sugh, the sultan and his ministers retired to the mountains, where the Spanish forces found it impracticable to follow them. A kind of truce was patched up, but they have refused to acknowledge the supremacy of Spain, and have removed the seat of government beyond the reach of ships’ artillery, and I saw a letter from the sultan, in which he said he would rather die than hoist the Castilian flag. Last year I heard the sultan was most anxious to send his sons to England to be educated, but had no means of accomplishing his wish. The Spaniards soon found their conquest a very unprofitable one, as they only held those spots which were actually in the possession of their troops; they soon, therefore, abandoned the island, though they for some years had a garrison, I heard, on the little island of Tulyan.
I pitied the sultan and his nobles, as with all their faults they were capable of much better things, and had a little judicious influence been used to guide them well, and a little power exercised to destroy the actual pirate haunts, there would have been no occasion to destroy the pretty town of Sugh.
I do not think I have mentioned elsewhere, that when I first saw this picturesque island, there was a forest, dead in appearance, on the right hand of the town, covering the slopes of one of the high hills. This was an extensive wood of fine teak trees. A long drought had rendered everything as dry as touchwood, when an incautious islander lit a fire among the trees, and the dead leaves and twigs around being perfectly dry soon ignited, and the flames spread in every direction, and charred and burnt the trees, stripping them of their luxuriant foliage; but five months after, I again visited this spot, and found that many of the apparently dead trees were now putting forth buds and young leaves, as the fire had not completely destroyed all.
It is a very singular circumstance that the teak is not found in any of the forests of Borneo, although in former days it was said to exist on the north-east coast, but I made very particular inquiries of the Sulus whom I found there, and they said they had never seen it except on their own island. It is a matter of regret, as although Borneo possesses some very fine woods, yet none equal to the teak.