Rajah Brooke

by Sir Spenser St. John

This unworthy chief was now ordered to leave the country, as his presence was not only distasteful to the Tuan Besar, as Brooke was called, but to all those whom he had driven, by his oppressions, into the rebellion which had lately been quelled. The Bornean rajahs also looked upon him as an interloper, and he found no support from them; he was said, in fact, to be a stranger from the Dutch ‘sphere of influence,’ as it is now the fashion to call possession without occupation.

A new era was about to dawn on Sarawak by the advent of the British navy. Before dwelling on the change which took place in consequence, let me glance briefly at Brooke’s position. He had been granted the government of the country by Rajah Muda Hassim, a grant confirmed by the Sultan; he had gained the confidence of the former, who leaned on him for support, and who hoped through his influence to recover his former paramount position in the capital; he was cordially supported by the Siniawan Malays, and was fully trusted by the Land Dyaks. He was also aided to a certain extent by those useful but troublesome subjects the Chinese, who then only dreamt of making themselves supreme in the interior. He was supported by three English followers, and the occasional presence of his yacht, the Royalist. How was it possible for anyone, therefore, to declare that he had seized the country by force, and held it by force, as was afterwards affirmed by a small English faction? His only enemies were Pangeran Makota and a few discontented Borneans, who dreaded the reign of justice and order. Though secure of the support of the inhabitants of Sarawak, he was opposed by his neighbour the Sultan of Sambas, backed by the Dutch, and he had the mouths of his rivers almost blockaded during eight months of the year by the fleets of Lanun and Balignini pirates who cruised along the coast during the fine season. His people were also in constant peril from the expeditions organised by Sherif Sahib, the chief of the neighbouring district of Sadong, the rendezvous of every species of pirate; and all coast trade was stopped by the constant presence of the Seribas and Sakarang Dyaks, led by their warlike Malays, who foraged along the whole western coast of Borneo. He was saved simply by his great prestige, as he had in reality no force with which he could cope with a large pirate fleet—a prestige acquired by his bravery, his tact, his great kindness, and the just and benevolent rule which he was striving with all his energy to introduce into his adopted country.

And what were his chief objects? How well the following lines express them: ‘It is a grand experiment, which, if it succeeds, will bestow a blessing on those poor people, and their children’s children will bless my name.’ Again, ‘If it please God to permit me to give a stamp to this country which shall last after I am no more, I shall have lived a life which emperors might envy. If by dedicating myself to the task I am able to introduce better customs and settled laws, and to raise the feeling of the people, so that their rights can never in future he wantonly infringed, I shall indeed be content and happy.’

This is how the Rajah describes his residence and mode of life at Kuching: ‘I may now mention our house, or, as I fondly call it, our palace. It is an edifice fifty-four feet square, mounted on numerous posts of the nibong palm, with nine windows in each front. The roof is of nipa leaves, and the floors and partitions are all of planks. Furnished with couches, table, chairs, books, etc., the whole is as comfortable as man could wish for in this out-of-the-way country; and we have besides bathing-house, cook-house and servants’ apartments detached. The view from the house to the eastward comprises a reach of the river, and to the westward looks towards the blue mountains of Matang; the north fronts the river and the south the jungle. Our abode, however, though spacious, cool and comfortable, can only be considered a temporary residence, for the best of all reasons, that in the course of a year it will tumble down, from the weight of the superstructure being placed on weak posts.

‘The time here passes monotonously, but not unpleasantly. Writing, reading, chart-making employ my time between meals. My companions are equally engaged—Mackenzie[7] with copying logs, learning navigation and stuffing specimens of natural history; Crymble is teaching our young Bugis and Dyak boys their letters for an hour every morning, copying my vocabularies of languages, ruling charts and the like; whilst my servant Peter learns reading and writing daily, with very poor success, however. Our meals are about nine in the morning and four in the afternoon, with a cup of tea at eight. The evening is employed in walking never less than a mile and a half measured distance, and, after tea, reading and a cigar. Wine and grog we have none, and all appear better for it, or, at least, I can say so much for myself. Our bedtime is about eleven.’

In 1843, after an almost unbroken stay of nearly two years in Borneo, Brooke again visited Singapore, and found welcome news. The British Government had decided to inquire into the Bornean question, and it was stated that Sir Edward Belcher had been ordered to visit Sarawak in H.M.S. Samarang; but what was of much greater importance, and proved of incalculable benefit to Sarawak and to British interests in Borneo, was that Brooke made the acquaintance of Captain the Hon. Henry Keppel, who was in command of H.M.S. Dido. As I have elsewhere remarked, Keppel, with the instincts of a gentleman, at once recognised that he had no adventurer but a true man before him, and henceforward exerted all his energy and influence to further his friend’s beneficent projects. They were indeed genuine Englishmen, and looked to what would advance the veritable interests of their own country—to increase its prestige in Borneo and clear the seas of the pirates who destroyed native commerce on its way to our settlements.

The Dido in the first days of May 1843 sailed from Singapore for Sarawak, and on the 13th anchored off the Moratabus entrance of the river. When the natives heard that their Governor had arrived, they swarmed down to the ship in their boats, delighted at his return among them; and the sight of the beautiful frigate, so powerful in their eyes, assured them that she would not leave before some measures had been taken against the pirates. Rajah Muda Hassim eagerly seized on this opportunity to obtain some security for native trade, and earnestly entreated Captain Keppel to attack the pirates of Seribas and Sakarang, who were especially dangerous to the coast traffic. Having satisfied himself of the truth of the allegations against the marauders, Keppel determined to act, and, having announced his intention, he was soon assured of the support of a native contingent, who decided to follow their English chief wherever he went, although with many misgivings as to the result of an attack on these much-feared corsairs, who had plundered their coasts with impunity for several generations.

I need not describe this expedition against the pirates, as the details have been often published; and as Admiral Keppel is now engaged in writing his memoirs, we shall have full particulars at first hand.[8] The Dido anchored off the Seribas river, and being joined by a native force of five hundred men, the English boats put off with crews of about eighty seamen and marines, and carried in the most dashing style every fort or obstruction placed in their way. No obstacles daunted them, and their enemies, numbering many thousands on each branch of the river, were so astonished by this novel mode of fighting in the open that they fled on every occasion, abandoning their towns and forts, which were promptly destroyed by our native allies, now trebled in number. The Seribas considered themselves invincible, and had collected their means of resistance in well-chosen spots, their guns covering the booms across the river, but to no purpose, and the towns of Paku, Padi and Rembas all shared the same fate.

It is a very remarkable circumstance that as soon as each section recognised the hopelessness of resistance, they entered freely into communication with their assailants, and under cover of the white flag, and often unarmed, approached their English conquerors with perfect trust and confidence. They all agreed to visit Sarawak, and promised amendment for the future.

The complete collapse of the defence astonished everyone, and those natives who had taken part in this memorable campaign began to acquire confidence in themselves, and were ever ready to follow their white leaders in all future expeditions.