Rajah Brooke

by Sir Spenser St. John

During their slow passage down the river, a Malay, who was accustomed to trade with the Chinese, overtook them in a canoe, and actually induced them to permit him to pass under the plea that his wife and children lived in a place called Batu Kawa, eight miles above the town, and would be frightened if they heard so many men passing, and he was not there to reassure them. Instead of returning home, he pulled down as fast as he could till he reached the town of Kuching, and going straight to his relative, a Malay trader of the name of Gapur, a trustworthy and brave man, told him what he had seen; but Gapur said, ‘Don’t go and tell the chiefs or the Rajah such a tissue of absurdities;’ yet he went himself over to the Datu Bandhar and informed him. The chiefs answer was, ‘The Rajah is unwell; we have heard similar reports for the last twenty years; don’t go and bother him about it. In the morning I will tell him what your relative says.’ This great security was caused by the universal belief that the Chinese could not commit so egregious a folly as to attempt to seize the Government of the country, considering that, with agriculturists included, they did not number above four thousand, while at that time the Malays and Dyaks within the Sarawak territory amounted to two hundred thousand at least. It was strange, however, and unpardonably negligent on the part of the Datu Bandhar not to have sent a fast boat up the river to ascertain what was really going on. Had he done so, the town and numerous lives would have been saved, and punishment would only have fallen on the guilty.

Shortly after midnight the squadron of Chinese barges pulled silently through the capital, and dividing into two bodies, the smaller entered a creek, called Sungei Bedil, just above the Rajah’s house, while the larger party continued its course to the landing-place of the fort, and sent out strong detachments to surprise the houses of Mr Crookshank, the magistrate, and Mr Middleton, the head constable, and a large force was told off to attack the stockades. Unaccountable as it may appear, none of these parties were noticed, so profound was the security felt; and everyone slept.

The Government House was situated on a little grassy hill, surrounded by small, neat cottages, in which visitors from the out-stations were lodged. The Chinese, landing on the banks of the Bedil stream, marched to the attack in a body of about a hundred, and passing by an upper cottage, made an assault on the front and back of the long Government House, the sole inhabitants of which were the Rajah and an English servant. They did not surround the house, for their trembling hearts made them fear to separate into small bodies, as the opinion was rife among them that the Rajah was a man brave, active, skilled in the use of weapons, and not to be overcome except by means of numbers.

Roused from his slumbers by the unusual sounds of shouts and yells at midnight, the Rajah looked out through the Venetian blinds, and immediately conjectured what had occurred. Several times he raised his revolver to fire at them, but convinced that he could not defend the house alone he determined to effect his escape. He supposed that men engaged in so desperate an enterprise would naturally take every precaution to ensure its success, and concluded that bodies of insurgents were silently watching the ends of the house; so, summoning his English servant, he led the way down to a bath-room on the ground floor which communicated with the lawn, and telling him to open the door quickly and follow close, the Rajah sprang forth, with sword drawn and revolver cocked, but found the coast clear. Had there been twenty Chinese there, he would have passed through them, as his quickness and practical skill in the use of weapons were unsurpassed. Reaching the banks of the stream above his house he paused, observing that it was full of Chinese boats; but presently, hearing his alarmed servant, who had lost him in the darkness, calling to him, he knew that the attention of the Chinese would be attracted that way, and dived under the bows of one of the barges and swam to the opposite shore unperceived. As he was then suffering from an attack of fever and ague, he fell utterly exhausted, and lay for some time on the muddy bank till, slightly recovering, he was able to reach the Government writer’s house.

An amiable and promising young officer, Mr Nicoletts, who had but just arrived from an out-station on a visit to the Rajah, was lodged in a cottage near; startled by the sound of the attack, he rushed forth to reach the chief’s house, but was intercepted and killed by the Chinese, who severed his head from his body, and bore it on a pike in triumph as that of the Rajah. Mr Steel, the Resident on the Rejang, and an experienced officer, quietly looked through the window of his cottage, and seeing what was passing, slipped out of the house, and soon found himself sheltered by the jungle; and the Rajah’s servant, whose shouts had drawn the Chinese towards him, had to display very unwonted activity before he could reach the protecting forest and join Mr Steel.

The other attacks took place simultaneously. Mr and Mrs Crookshank, rushing forth on hearing this midnight alarm, were cut down, the latter left for dead, the former seriously wounded. The constable’s house was attacked; he and his wife escaped, but their two children and an English lodger were killed by the insurgents.

Here occurred a scene which showed how cruel were these Chinese. When the rebels burst into Mr Middleton’s house he fled, and his wife, following, found herself in the bath-room, and by the shouts was soon convinced that her retreat had been cut off. In the meantime the Chinese had seized her two children, and brought the eldest down into the bath-room to show them the way by which the father had escaped. Mrs Middleton’s sole refuge was a large water jar, which happened to be full, and she only raised her mouth above water to draw breath; there she heard the poor little boy questioned, pleading for his life, and heard his shriek, when the fatal sword was raised which severed his head from his body. With loud laughter these fiends kicked the little head from one to the other, and then rushed out in pursuit of Mr Middleton. Fortunately the bath-room was in darkness, so the mother escaped unseen. The Chinese then set fire to the house, and she distinctly heard the shrieks of her second child as they tossed him into the flames. Mrs Middleton remained in the jar till the falling embers forced her to leave it. She ran to a neighbouring pond and, fortunately, was thus sheltered from the savages who were rushing round the burning dwelling. Her escape was indeed extraordinary.

The stockades, however, were not surprised. The Chinese, waiting for the signal which was to be the attack on the houses, were at length perceived by a sentinel, and he immediately roused the Treasurer, Mr Crymble, who resided in the stockade which contained the arsenal and the prison. He endeavoured to make some preparation for defence, although he had but four Malays with him. He had scarcely time, however, to load a six-pounder field-piece, and get his own rifle ready, before the Chinese, with loud shouts, rushed to the assault. They were led by a man who bore in either hand a flaming torch. Mr Crymble waited until they were within forty yards; he then fired and killed the man who, by the lights he bore, made himself conspicuous, and before the crowd recovered from the confusion in which they were thrown by the fall of their leader, discharged among them the six-pounder loaded with grape, which made the assailants retire behind the neighbouring houses or hide in the outer ditches. But with four men little could be done; and some of the rebels, having crossed the inner ditch, began to remove the planks which constituted the sole defence. To add to the garrison’s difficulties, they threw over into the inner court little iron tripods, with flaming torches attached, which rendered it as light as day, whilst they remained shrouded in darkness.

To increase the number of defenders Mr Crymble released the sole occupants of the prison—a fraudulent debtor and a Malay madman who had killed his wife in a fit of fury. The former quickly disappeared, whilst the latter, regardless of the shot flying around, stood to the post assigned him, opposite a plank the Chinese were trying to remove. He had orders to fire as soon as the first assailant appeared, and when the plank gave way and a man attempted to force his body through, he pulled the trigger of his carbine, without lowering the muzzle, and sent the ball through his own brains. Mr Crymble now found it useless to prolong the struggle. One of his four men was killed, and another, a brave Malay corporal, was shot down at his side. The wounded man begged Mr Crymble to fly and leave him to his fate, but asked him to shake hands with him first and tell him whether he had not done his duty. The brave Irishman seized him by the arm and endeavoured to drag him up the stairs leading to the dwelling over the gate; but the Chinese had already gained the courtyard, and pursuing them, drove their spears through the wounded man. Mr Crymble was forced to let go his hold, and with a brave follower, Daud, swung himself down into the ditch below. Some of the rebels outside the fort, seeing their attempted escape, tried to stop the Treasurer, and a man stabbed at him, but the spear only glanced on his thick frieze coat, and the Chinese received in return a cut across the face from the Irishman’s cutlass which was a remembrance to carry to the grave.

The other stockade, though it had but a corporal’s watch of three Malays, did not surrender; but finding that every other place was in the hands of the Chinese, the brave defenders opened the gate, and, charging the crowd of rebels, sword in hand, made good their escape, though all were severely wounded.