On band nights the Harmonie or Concordia Clubs, two beautiful and commodious buildings replete with every comfort, become the rendezvous of old and young, and dancing is kept up till half-past eight o'clock. It must be confessed that it made one perspire to see the dancers tread a measure to a popular waltz, but there could be no question of the enjoyment of those who participated.
There are two Batavias. There is the old town, founded in 1619 as the capital of the Dutch East Indies upon the ruins of the ancient city of Jakatra. This is the portion of the town where the business is done, with the famous Kali Besar, the Lombard Street and Fenchurch Street of Batavia.
The quarter is not particularly attractive. But after experience of the filthy Chinese quarters of Singapore, Hongkong and Shanghai, it is satisfying to European self-respect to observe how Dutch officialdom has asserted the claims of hygiene and cleanliness upon the Asiatic residents. The objectionable hanging Chinese signboards are noticeably absent in Batavia, as in all other towns throughout Java, and something has been done to make less clamant the odoriferous articles of Chinese commerce. The Dutch have proved that the Chinese are amenable to European notions if only firmness is shown by those in authority.
Then there is the residential town, Weltevreden with its broad tree-lined avenues and palatial pavilion hotels and private villa establishments.
In style, the European houses are quite unlike those erected by the Spaniards in the Philippine Islands, or the British in the Malay Peninsula. They are not raised to any great height from the ground. Three or four wide low steps lead on to a capacious white marble verandah, the lofty roof of which is supported by shapely pillars with Grecian cornices. Upon the polished surface of the ample hall are strewn rugs of beautiful design or the fancy straw matting of the East. Bed-rooms open on either side from this hall, and at the back, opening out upon a spacious court-yard or garden filled with gaily coloured flowers or stately palms, is another wide verandah where meals are served. The bath-rooms, kitchen, stables, store-rooms and servants' quarters lie beyond the garden. There is everywhere a generous appreciation of space, and doubtless the good health enjoyed by the Dutch ladies and their families so markedly in contrast to the British colonists on the other side of the Equator is largely due to the more comfortable homes in which they are settled. In Java, the bath-room is a special feature, and only those who have travelled much in tropical countries can appraise it at its true value. It is all in keeping with the thorough cleanliness of the Dutch people, a feature which impressed itself upon us wherever we travelled throughout the island. Detached from every house of any pretensions, there is a smaller pavilion. It usually stands in the grounds in front and nearer the roadway, and in former times was spoken of as "the guest house." Nowadays, either because the Hotels are more comfortable than in olden times or because the railway system has led to a style of life that calls for less hospitality for travellers, the guest house is more often let to bachelors, who find it easier and cheaper to maintain a small establishment of this sort than the bachelor messes or chummeries of Singapore and Penang.
Weltevreden may be compared with a gigantic park, and there are residences sufficiently imposing to please the lover of architectural beauty, even if there is no assertive Clock Tower to emphasise by contrast the hovels of Singapore's region of slums. The idea of keeping the various races to their Kampongs may be contrary to British ideas, but in Java it appears to work satisfactorily enough. It is only in recent years that certain British colonies have been allowed to set apart reservations for European residence, and it would be well if the Government of the Federated Malay States, before it is too late, introduced the Kampong system in laying out new towns throughout the Peninsula.
A motor-car ride through the residential quarter and round the suburbs of Batavia gives one a good idea of the extent of the town, and, incidentally, of the merging of East and West in the population. Former Dutch residents have left their impress in more respects than one, and one result is a half-caste population which takes a much more prominent part in the affairs of the island than is the case, so far as we are aware, in any British Colony. There are pretty forms and beautiful faces among this hybrid race, and we are not astonished that succeeding generations from the land of dykes and canals should form alliances that wed them for ever to the sunny soil of Java. East may be East and West may be West, but here at least the lie is given to Kipling's generalisation, false like most generalisations, as to the impossibility of their blending.
The visitor will find the Museums full of objects of interest. On Koningsplein, young Holland devotes itself to recreation, and evidence is given here and elsewhere throughout the suburbs of the widespread popularity of the English game of football. The Dutch do not follow the British Colonial custom of sending their children to Europe. Many are educated and kept under the home influence in Java, and a fine healthy race of boys and girls is being reared to play its part in the new Netherlands created by Dutch enterprise and perseverance. Great as is the Java of the present day, there is justification for believing that it has a greater future in store.