Rajah Brooke

by Sir Spenser St. John

CHAPTER IV

SIR THOMAS COCHRANE IN BRUNEI—ATTACK ON SHERIF OSMAN—MUDA HASSIM IN POWER—LINGIRE’S ATTEMPT TO TAKE RAJAH BROOKE’S HEAD—MASSACRE OF MUDA HASSIM AND BUDRUDIN—THE ADMIRAL PROCEEDS TO BRUNEI—TREATY WITH BRUNEI—ACTION WITH PIRATE SQUADRON—RAJAH BROOKE IN ENGLAND—IS KNIGHTED ON HIS RETURN TO THE EAST—VISITS THE SULU ISLANDS—EXPEDITION AGAINST SERIBAS PIRATES

Hearing that Admiral Sir Thomas Cochrane was expected in Singapore, the English Rajah determined to proceed there to explain to him the true position of affairs on the north-west coast of Borneo. He found the admiral ready to take measures to suppress piracy, and the Rajah left with the impression that he would act against the great pirate chief, Sherif Osman. In the meantime, he returned himself to Brunei in the Phlegethon to find his Bornean friends very despondent. However, in August the admiral appeared, and at the invitation of the Sultan attacked Pangeran Usop for holding two British subjects in slavery. This noble and his followers fled to the hills. Sir Thomas then proceeded to Marudu Bay to chastise Sherif Osman, the most notorious pirate chief in the Archipelago. His place of residence, up a narrow river, was carefully fortified with an extra strong boom across the stream. A very powerful expedition was sent up from the fleet. In attempting to force their way through the well-prepared obstructions our men were exposed to a murderous fire from the forts, and we lost heavily; but the town was taken and burnt. I visited the place afterwards, and was somewhat surprised that a detachment was not landed below the boom and the position turned; but we always like to take the bull by the horns. The pirates suffered severely. Sherif Osman was mortally wounded and died shortly afterwards, and Marudu ceased for a time to be a pirate rendezvous.

Returning to Brunei with the good news, Brooke was delighted to hear that his friend Budrudin had defeated Usop, who, with a force from the hills, had come down to surprise the town, and had driven him away from the neighbourhood of the capital. He was some time afterwards taken at a place called Kimanis, and by order of the Sultan was strangled with all the formalities due to a person who had royal blood in his veins. Thus Muda Hassim’s power appeared securely established. His enemies without and within had been defeated, and his warlike brother, Lanun, on the mother’s side—which accounted for his unusual daring—was at the head of a strong party. The English Rajah felt that they were comparatively safe; yet he had his secret misgivings, and tried in vain to persuade the admiral to station a brig on the coast.

Captain Bethune now returned to England to make his report to the British Government, and Brooke was left to a welcome repose—doubly welcome after all the exertions of the previous months.

It was during the summer of this year that a very curious episode occurred. Whilst the Rajah was at dinner with his English followers in the new house to which I have already referred, and which had been constructed some distance below the Malay town, Lingire, the well-known pirate chief, walked into the dining-hall, followed by a large party of his warriors. As they were all fully armed, the Rajah saw at once that mischief was meant. He received the chief most courteously. A chair was given him, and all the other Dyaks squatted down on the floor round the table. Cigars were handed round, and then the Rajah asked what was the news. Lingire answered that they had just pulled up the river to pay him a visit.

The Rajah called up a very intelligent native servant and said to him in English, ‘Bring me another bottle of sherry,’ and then added in a careless voice, ‘Let the Malay chiefs know who are here.’ The servant duly brought in the wine and then retired. Whilst the Seribas chief was drinking his sherry, the Rajah exerted himself to the utmost to entertain him—told him story after story, got the Dyak to relate instances of his own prowess. His vanity was so tickled that, forgetting the object of his visit, he dilated on his forays into the Dutch territories, where he had surprised the Chinese settlers. ‘They won’t fight, those cowards,’ he said. ‘They run away from an armed man, or drop on their knees and beg for mercy.’ The Rajah encouraged him to continue, but time and the Datus moved slowly, and he could see the Dyaks exchanging glances, as if to say the moment had arrived for action. In another minute they would have been on their feet and the unarmed Englishmen slain, when footsteps were heard on the gravel walk. Lingire looked anxious as the powerful form of the Datu Patingi appeared in the verandah, which was soon crowded with armed Malays. The Datu Tumangong soon followed, and the Dyaks were surrounded. They did not move—a move would have sealed their fate. The Datus threatened and scolded them to their hearts’ content, asked how they had dared to enter the Rajah’s house with arms in their hands, and had not the white chief interfered the Malays would have executed summary justice on the rascals.

The Rajah then spoke. He said he knew very well that Lingire had come to surprise them, but he would not have it said that anyone who came to his country should be in fear of death, however much he merited it, that he would forgive him, and he might go. At a sign from the Rajah the Malays opened their serried ranks, and Lingire and his followers crept out like whipped curs and disappeared from the river. Years after I saw Lingire sitting on a chair beside the Rajah, but I do not think he ever confessed to us that his design had been to kill the white men, though it was well known that he came for no other purpose. He had, in fact, boasted that he would take the Rajah’s head and hang it up in a basket which he had already prepared and placed in a tree near his village. Had he attacked the Rajah the moment he entered the room nothing could have saved the Englishmen, as they were quite defenceless; and he could have done it with impunity, as no Malay war boat could have overtaken a Dyak bangkong. This is but a specimen of the Rajah’s marvellous escapes. I had the above account from his cousin, Arthur Crookshank.

The year 1846 opened satisfactorily. The attack on the pirate haunts at Marudu, the punishment and the subsequent death of Pangeran Usop, rendered the position of Muda Hassim stronger, and the strict watch kept on the Seribas and Sakarangs during 1845 had prevented any marauding on their part. Whilst peace appeared now to be established both at home and abroad, the Rajah was again troubled by the action of his agent Wise. This clever but unscrupulous man kept writing that he would make Brooke the richest commoner in England if he would give him a free hand; and, in fact, without waiting for any permission, he began to project large associations which were to take over the country of Sarawak and rival the old East India Company in wealth and power. When Brooke understood what his agent was doing, he wrote that he would be no party to such schemes, and that he would not surrender Sarawak to the tender mercies of a mercantile association.

I first made the acquaintance of Mr Wise in 1846, and I well remember how lavish he was in the praise of Brooke, and what hopes he entertained of the success of an all-absorbing company. But as time passed his enthusiasm for his friend and employer gradually lessened, till the result was an open rupture. To this I must refer hereafter.