Baring-Gould Sabine
A History of Sarawak under Its Two White Rajahs 1839-1908
CHAPTER V
RENTAP
With this chapter commences the history of the life of the present Rajah, in itself an epitome of the history of the raj, who in 1852, at the age of twenty-three, obtained two years' leave of absence to try his fortunes in Borneo at the invitation of his uncle the Rajah. He arrived at Kuching on July 21, 1852, at the commencement of a new era in the history of Sarawak. Hitherto the raj extended only as far as the Samarahan river, and within this little state order had been established and peace reigned. Without, it had been freed from its enemies, the result being an increasing trade which brought prosperity. But the Rajah could not leave incomplete the work that he had undertaken and begun, and these benefits had to be more fully extended to the neighbouring districts, which were shortly to be added to the raj. This could be done only by first reducing to order the turbulent and restless Sea-Dayaks and Malays who inhabited these districts. Sarawak, too, had now been left to fight its own battles alone, and to surmount the additional troubles that had been thrown across its path by the blind and weak policy of the British Government that should have been its protector. In the severe trials that followed, and which had to be faced unhelped, the Rajah found that assistance which he so much needed in the able and devoted support of his nephews, the Tuan Besar, and, more notably, the Tuan Muda, for so the present Rajah was entitled by the datus on his arrival.187 On the expiration of his leave the Tuan Muda finally quitted the Navy, and Sarawak became the scene of his life-work; he was to become the Rajah's right-hand man, and, a few years later, his trusted deputy.
Charles Anthoni Johnson, the Tuan Muda, was the second son of the Rev. Francis Charles Johnson, and was born on June 3, 1829, at Berrow Vicarage, near Burnham, Somersetshire. Educated in Crewkerne Grammar School for a few years only, he was withdrawn at the age of a little over twelve, and entered the Navy on January 18, 1842, as a volunteer of the first class, under his uncle, Commander Willes Johnson of the sloop Wolverine. He served on this ship until June, 1844, gaining two steps as midshipman in that year, when he was transferred to the Dido, Captain the Hon. Henry Keppel. He rejoined the Wolverine, serving under Commander John Dalrymple Hay,188 until his transfer to the Mæander, Captain the Hon. H. Keppel, in November, 1847, as sub-lieutenant. He joined the St. Vincent in 1848, and in June the next year was promoted to be senior mate of the Terrible. He became lieutenant in 1852. He served mostly on the China station; and the only active service he saw was with Keppel's expedition and Sir Thomas Cochrane's squadron in Borneo waters, as we have already recorded.
The Tuan Muda was appointed to Lundu in January, 1853, but he had not been there long before news arrived of the death of Mr. Lee, the Resident at Lingga. The circumstances were these: Ever since the severe lesson taught the Saribas and Sekrangs in 1849, the piratical tribes had been divided into two parties: one that was content to submit to the Government of Sarawak, and abandon its former lawless practices, and the other, consisting of the irreconcilables, the wild and fiery bloods, who loved slaughter and rapine above everything, and who could not be prevailed upon to beat their spears into ploughshares. At their head stood a peculiarly daring and turbulent Dayak chief called Rentap; and these had retreated farther up the country to the head-waters of the Saribas. There Rentap had established a strong stockade on Sadok, a mountain ridge, up the Sungei (River) Lang, which was regarded as an impregnable fastness, for access could not be obtained to it by boat, on account of the rapids, and the country that would have to be traversed by an expedition was covered with dense jungles, and broken up by rugged limestone chains of hills.
The Sekrang pirates could no longer shoot down to the sea in their war prahus, for the forts of Sekrang and Lingga commanded the river, consequently they exerted their mischievous energies in attacking the peaceful Dayaks in their districts, and they were especially irate against those of their own tribe who had submitted to the white man's rule.
Sekrang station under the able management of Mr. Brereton had made great advances, and around the fort a Malay town had sprung up, and there Chinese traders had also established themselves. Mr. Brereton was ably supported by two of the best and most capable Malay chiefs, Pangiran Matali,189 a Bruni of rank, and Abang Aing,190 a Matu Melanau, who had long been settled in the Batang Lupar with his father the Laksamana Menudin, and who had the good fortune to have for a helpmate an upright and determined woman, Dayang Kota; she was strong in council, and so trustworthy that when Mr. Brereton and the chiefs were away she was often left in charge of the fort.
The fort at Lingga had been built in 1852 to protect that river against marauding bands of Saribas, and had been placed in charge of Mr. Alan Lee.
Brereton and Lee were both men of independent means, who had joined the Rajah to assist him in his great work, and who never drew a penny from the Sarawak Government. The former was hot and impetuous; both were men of noble and generous natures.
The position of Mr. Lee at Lingga was fairly safe. He had been for a short time coadjutor with Brereton at Sekrang; at Lingga he had plenty of Malays, and only friendly Dayaks, the Balaus, about him. But Mr. Brereton was in a more dangerous position, a single Englishman among many thousand natives but partially reclaimed in hardly five years, and all passionately attached to their ancestral custom of head-hunting. It is true he had about him a number of Malays, and on an emergency might call in the assistance of those Dayaks of the Sekrang tribe who professed allegiance, but many of these were waverers, and on a few only could any reliance be placed.
Early in 1853, reports reached Brereton that Rentap, at the head of a war party, was on his way down the river to attack his fort, and force an opening to the sea, so that again he might pursue his piratical expeditions along the coast; and Brereton sent a message to Lee at Lingga to come to his assistance.
The request was at once complied with, and, thinking the case urgent, Lee hurried up the river with a scratch party, insufficiently armed; but he left orders that a large force was to follow with all possible speed.
On reaching Sekrang, Lee learned that the force under Rentap was approaching, and he strongly urged Brereton to stand solely on the defensive, and not to attack the enemy till his auxiliaries had arrived. Brereton, however, had built a small stockade a few miles above Sekrang fort, and to this he insisted on going, and was accompanied by Lee. On the morning after reaching it, a few boats of the Sekrang pirates were seen descending the river and approaching the stockade. A gun was fired to signal them to desist, but as this was disregarded, a charge of grape was poured into them, throwing them apparently into confusion. Unfortunately, the Malays in the fort were not to be restrained, and Brereton was for at once dashing forth to attack the enemy in the open on the river. Lee saw the injudiciousness of such a proceeding. He was convinced that the two prahus had been sent forward tentatively, and that the main body of the enemy was concealed behind the point of land farther up. He expostulated with Brereton, who taunted him with a lack of courage, and then left the fort with his Malays, and in their boats they ran in upon the main fleet that was lurking in an upper reach, and which now swung down, assisted by the ebb-tide, on Brereton's light prahus.
Lee, nettled at the taunt, and seeing the peril in which his friend and fellow-officer had so inconsiderately placed himself, at once left the fort and hastened to his assistance.
The small boats in which were the Malay garrison were being swamped by the heavy bangkongs or war prahus of the Sekrangs filled with armed men. Brereton's boat upset, and with difficulty he reached the bank. Lee refused to retreat, and calling out, "Save yourselves, I must stand," dashed on. His boat was boarded by the enemy; he fought with desperation, but was overpowered and fell into the water with his head nearly severed from his shoulders. Meanwhile the force of the current had carried the fleet under the guns of the stockade, and these opened fire upon it, and compelled Rentap reluctantly to withdraw and abandon his undertaking.191 He was followed up and attacked by the Sekrang Dayak chief Gasing, who, acting on his own initiative, burnt twenty villages belonging to Rentap's followers.
When the news of this disaster reached Kuching, the Tuan Muda was recalled from Lundu and ordered to replace Lee at Lingga, and he arrived there in June, 1853. A stronger fort was now built there, and the Malays living at Banting were ordered to move down. He was succeeded at Lundu by Mr. Charles Grant.192
Lingga, which is just at the mouth of the river of that name that flows into the Batang Lupar about sixteen miles above its mouth, is seated on a mud bank; the land for miles around is a dismal swamp, and is the most dreary station in the State. It is, however, a healthy place, and another redeeming point is the fine expanse of water which forms the estuary of the Bantag Lupar, stretching from Lingga, where it is three miles broad, straight to the mouth.
The Dayak population of the Lingga river was then about 5000, all Balaus, whom the Tuan Muda found to be "braver than most Dayaks, and true-hearted." From the first, they and the Seboyaus, a relative tribe, residing some at Seboyau, below Lingga, but most at Lundu, had sided with the Rajah against their direst foes, the Saribas; and these pages record many great services rendered by them. Besides these Dayaks there was a considerable number of Malays, and the latter increased, for Lingga became to them a place of refuge.
Indra Lila193 had been the chief here since his forced departure from the Rejang (see footnote, p. 16). He had died a few months before, and had been succeeded by his brother, Lila Pelawan,194 who died a centenarian in 1897. There was another brother, Lila Wangsa,195 who had joined the piratical Saribas Malays. Lila Pelawan was only the nominal chief of the river, for it was really ruled by two despotic old Malay ladies of rank, Dang Isa and Dang Ajar. These sisters claimed all the land as their inheritance, and all the dwellers thereon as their slaves. Though they were cruel and tyrannical in their methods, these masterful old ladies had the redeeming point of being brave, and, attired in men's clothing, with sword and spear, had often led the men in resisting the attacks of the Saribas. Dang Ajar was the most troublesome. It was she with whom the Kayan chief, Akam Nipa, had fallen in love, and a pity it was that his threat to abduct her was frustrated by the flight of the Malays from Ngmah. Though professing a strong regard for the Tuan Muda, whom they honoured by styling him their son, they feared and hated him, for they saw that he would soon deprive them of all power to do evil, and to prevent this they even attempted to resort to poison. This was the method by which they were commonly reputed to have removed Indra Lila out of their way, as they would certainly have done to his little son, so as to acquire his inheritance, had not the Tuan Muda taken him under his protection. This lad was Abang Abdul Gani, who became the Tuan Muda's constant follower for years, and who afterwards gained for himself the reputation of being one of the bravest and most honest of the Government Malay officials.
As they themselves foresaw, the power of these two old ladies was soon brought to an end, and they retired into seclusion to solace themselves with religion.
In August, 1853, the Rajah went to Bruni, where he found that his power and his popularity had not waned, though discarded by the British Government, and discredited by his own countrymen, and though he arrived in a small merchant ship instead of in one of her Majesty's men-of-war. He stayed some time in Bruni, and was warmly received by the new Sultan, Abdul Mumin, for Omar Ali had departed to answer for his sins, "and was fully and firmly reinstated as their friend and adviser." Those districts outside Sarawak, namely the Sadong, Batang Lupar, Saribas, and Kalaka rivers and their tributaries, with a coast-line of some seventy-five miles, in area about three times the size of the raj, were now incorporated with it by a cession granted by the Sultan, the Rajah agreeing to pay the Sultan half of any surplus revenues that might accrue. We may note here for convenience that this was altered afterwards in 1861, when the territories as far as Kedurong point were ceded, thereby giving the State a further coast-line of 180 miles, and the rivers Rejang, Oya, Muka, Tatau, and Bintulu. For this additional cession and that of 1853 a fixed yearly sum was to be paid to the Sultan as compensation for loss of revenue; and these cessions, having been made subsequent to the treaty of 1847, contain a clause to the effect that none of the districts ceded by them may be transferred by the Rajah or his successors to any other government, company or persons without the sanction of the British Government, but the Sultan's sanction is not required. In the event of the cession money not being paid for three consecutive years, the districts ceded would revert to the Sultan; otherwise the sovereign and territorial rights over these districts are absolutely invested in the Rajahs of Sarawak, the Sultan having reserved no rights or power whatever over them. The cessions subsequently obtained by the present Rajah, which will be noted in their proper places, were granted on the same terms.
In December, the Rajah arrived at Lingga on his way to Sekrang and farther up the river, with the object of opening up communication with the turbulent members of the Dayak tribes in the interior, under Rentap and Bulan. These chiefs were men of very different character, and headed native bodies of like diversity.
Rentap was an active, crafty, and determined man, rootedly opposed to the interference of Europeans and the putting down of piracy and head-hunting. On the other hand, Bulan was the figure-head of a party that hesitated, uncertain which direction affairs would take, and watching to see which way the cat jumped. Bulan and his faction would not engage in active hostility against the Rajah's government, unless they saw that the tide of affairs was setting strong against it. But also they would not profess friendship, or lend help against the turbulent party.
The Tuan Muda attended the Rajah to Sekrang, and several meetings were contrived with the leaders of the two factions, but with no satisfactory results. In April, 1854, owing to the representations of Mr. Brereton, an expedition was organised against a chief called Apai196 Dendang at Dandi, on the backbone or watershed between the Saribas and the Sekrang river, a hotbed of mischief, whence several incursions had been made into the pacified country, with the usual results of rapine and murder.
The Tuan Muda brought up a contingent from Lingga, and this, united with a force from Kuching, proceeded up the Sekrang, passing troublesome and dangerous rapids, till the point Lipat was reached, where the boats had to be left. The backbone of hills was at some considerable distance, and to reach it much thorny jungle had to be traversed. After a day's march inland it was arranged that the Europeans and the Sarawak Malay contingent should remain behind, and that a fighting division of Dayaks should be sent forward under their chiefs to attack Dandi, which consisted of one long Dayak house. The plan adopted was not the most judicious, and the result was disappointing. We will describe what followed in the Tuan Muda's own words.
Late in the afternoon of the third day, when we anxiously awaited the return of the advanced division, our outposts first of all descried two or three small parties of Dayaks evidently of our force, wending their way slowly over hill and dale. On their nearer approach, we plainly saw wounded men carried by them. Whispers spread – gradually and quietly at first, but they soon became more distinct – that our party had failed. In the evening the chiefs arrived and came forward to report progress, looking haggard, thin, and exhausted. The story was as follows – they had walked at a fast pace the whole of the first day over the steepest hills, sometimes without any path, and the guides at a nonplus for the proper direction; from morning till night they scarcely halted, under a scorching sun; and parched with thirst without any hope of water. At night, by moonlight, they pushed on again, until they nearly fell from exhaustion, when they slept in any position with their arms on. About 3 A.M. they again advanced, and, at the opening of dawn, the most active Dayaks, reaching the enemy's house, advanced upon it without order, and as the leaders were mounting the ladder, they were struck off one after another by hundreds of men inside, dressed in fighting costumes, and headed by the whole of the Saribas tribe, men heretofore on every occasion on land, victorious. Our poor leaders had to retire to guard their wounded and dying, while the enemy were yelling, cheering, and beating gongs; and even their women, dressed in their best clothes, were clapping their hands, and urging their sweethearts to the encounter.
As the sun rose, some of the strongest of the Malay force came up within shot, and took up quarters behind trees and opened fire upon the house. This stopped the cheering within, but in no way daunted the enemy. About an hour after, our elderly chiefs came up, viewed the house of the enemy, sat down on the hillside in a sheltered position, and were so exhausted that children might have hacked their heads off. They stopped all advance of their party, and while the oldest chiefs were suffering severely from fatigue, a palaver was opened, the result being that some of the enemy came down, mixed with our people, then partook of sirih and betel-nut in a friendly manner, and promised to show our party the nearest way back, and provide them with provisions for their journey. On their part they engaged to be answerable for the payment of a "death fine" for the men they had killed some months previously.
News that a large expedition had been organised against Dandi had reached Apai Dendang before the departure of the force from Sekrang, and he had summoned to his assistance all the bravest men of the Saribas tribe, and the principal leaders of every head-hunting expedition for some time past; nevertheless he was unwilling to drive matters to an extremity, having a wholesome dread of the white men. This rendered him ready to treat and buy off the expedition with a promise of indemnity for murders recently committed.
A fatal want of discretion had been shown in the whole affair, no trustworthy guides had been engaged, no inquiry made as to whether the Saribas were coming up to the succour of Apai Dendang, no English leaders were sent forward with the rabble of assailants, and that rabble had attacked in straggling detachments, when exhausted with hard marching and with thirst.
We returned home with feelings that can be better imagined than described. The Dayaks said that the omens had been bad from the outset; the Malays said if they had only been there, the result would have been different; and the Europeans said – nothing.
In August, 1854, the Rajah arrived at Lingga with a large force which had been collected at Kuching, and proceeded to Sekrang, taking with him the Tuan Muda; The Tuan Besar, together with other European officers, who had come with the Rajah, also lent their aid. The object was to attack Rentap in his fastness in Sungei Lang. The whole force numbered 7000 Malays and Dayaks. To prevent the Saribas from sending their fighting men to the assistance of Rentap, the Datu Temanggong was despatched with a flotilla up that river to menace their villages and to hold the Saribas warriors in check. Mr. Steele197 was to lead another party up the Kanowit to threaten the Dayaks of that river and its branches the Kajulau and Entabai, with a rear attack should they cross over to the Saribas. Mr. Steele had been thrice attacked at Kanowit fort, but now he could muster fifteen hundred men and take the offensive, and, though possibly he would have to do no fighting, his force would deter the Kajulaus from sending aid to Rentap. The expedition was thoroughly well thought out.
The Rajah, with the main body, leaving the Sekrang fort, ascended the river for about thirty miles to a place called Entaban. The heavy prahus were brought thus far with great difficulty, owing to the rapids, and beyond that point it was impossible to proceed in them. Accordingly a stockade was erected, and the Tuan Besar was placed in command of the expedition by land to Sungei Lang, with his brother, the Tuan Muda, Mr. Crookshank, Mr. Brereton, and four other English officers to assist. The Rajah's health would not admit of his undertaking the arduous march. He remained behind with a strong force to protect the flotilla.
Although the heavy war boats could ascend no farther, it was possible for part of the force to continue the ascent of the river in light boats, and this was done, the Europeans and Malays marching.
To continue the narrative from the Tuan Muda's description: —
We had Dayak guides, and could not have proceeded without them. Our land force consisted mostly of Malays, and numbered about 500 men – the Sekrang Dayaks were in their boats. About 4 P.M. we halted on the brink of the river and prepared to spend the night with a stockade around. This was in the enemy's country, although there were many people living near who were neither the one thing nor the other. The following morning we proceeded again in the same order, but before mid-day many of our party were quite exhausted, and there was really no road to follow but the muddy banks of the river, so we halted, and after our mid-day meal it was decided that we were all to crowd in with the floating force. And thus we pushed on, but in a most comfortless condition with regard to space. We spent the night at Tabbat, and fortified ourselves here also. My subsequent experience of the localities has proved that we should never have reached our destination on foot, keeping company with the boats. On the fourth day we spied the enemy's position, situated on a hill cleared of all old jungle and showing recent preparations of defence around their dwellings. Our heavy armament consisted of 4- and 3-pounder guns and rocket tubes.
The enemy showed no opposition outside, and after marching about four miles, we arrived at a hill in their vicinity. It was a fiery hot morning without a cloud, and the hills, though low, were very precipitous. The Europeans kept near the guns, to assist in their progress up the steeps, and when we were mounting the last rising ground on which the enemy was fortified, we found some of the leaders of our force had foolishly advanced too near, and a few had been killed and wounded, and were now being carried to the rear. The enemy had two long houses on the ridge of a hill, surrounded by steep ground excepting at the end. Here high stakes were driven into the earth, and around all a firm and thick stockade. The 4-pounder gun was mounted after considerable delay, and, when the rocket tube was in place, we opened fire on one end, while the 3-pounder played away on the other. The enemy answered our fire pretty briskly with their lelahs.198 We could see the men rushing to and fro covered with their shields, also parties dancing to the music of the gongs. Some of their voices we heard distinctly, saying they would never succumb to the tight-breeched men (white men) or to any other strangers. Mr. Crookshank (at considerable risk) took charge of the rockets, which were of ancient make, and a few that were fired entered the fort and did great execution, but the majority whizzed round and round and sometimes lodged in the ground among our own party; we were all more afraid of these missiles than anything the enemy could produce. Early in the afternoon there was a commotion among the enemy, and we could discern women and children leaving on the opposite side of the hill, but the men stood fast and kept their posts.
Our old Penglima199 was biding his time, for he yet knew that he might lead, but others would not follow. He worked steadily and quietly, amid many jeers from some of our own native party, who asked why the warrior did not make an advance: his reply between his teeth was – "Your words are more than your deeds." As the sun drew near to the horizon, the Penglima moved up to the enemy's stockade, silently opened the palisade, and, after a moment's peep, jumped in, followed by others, who gave a loud cheer and drew their swords. The enemy, finding a lodgment had been made inside, immediately took to their heels and fled down the hill. We followed in close to the leaders; the entrance was so narrow that many received contusions when passing through. About fifty or sixty of the enemy were tearing away over the open ground, covering their bodies with their shields.
These were followed by all the defenders of the stockade, who rolled down the side of the hill, a living wave, bearing away with them their chief Rentap, who had been wounded. The stockade was taken, and within its defences the victors passed the night, whilst the enemy fled precipitately to a second and still stronger fastness on the summit of the mountain Sadok, which loomed in the distance. One of the most curious and significant features of the conflict was that, whilst it was in progress, the hills and every commanding position around were crowded with Dayaks, the adherents of Bulan, as well as others, who watched it with lively interest, taking no part on one side or the other, but waiting to see to which side the scale would incline. Had the attacking force met with discomfiture, these men would have fallen on it and harassed the party as it retreated.
If, after the defeat of Rentap and the capture of the stockade in the Lang, they did not tender allegiance to the Government, it was because the expedition retired immediately after having achieved its first success, and, therefore, it gave the waverers no permanent assurance of protection against Rentap's resentment.
To have crushed Rentap, it would have been necessary to have pursued him to his second stronghold at Sadok, but this was not done. Captain Brooke in command doubtless saw the expediency of following up a routed foe, but Dayak warriors are wont to rest content with a single victory, and, that gained, to become uncontrollably impatient to return home; besides, the force was in too disturbed a state to undertake any organised attack; accordingly, after making a circuit of devastation, it returned.
The result was that Rentap continued to give trouble for seven years.
Brereton died of dysentery, brought on by exposure, shortly after this expedition, and the Tuan Muda was placed in charge of the Batang Lupar in October, 1854. The district was in a very disturbed state, and to establish order by putting an end to intertribal feuds and promiscuous head-hunting required an unceasing watch being kept on all, and necessitated many punitive expeditions being made. The Tuan Muda had but a handful of fortmen, for there was no money to spend; not more than £30 per mensem being allowed even so late as 1860 for the upkeep of the district, and it must have been less then. Little support could be expected from the capital. On the Kajulau expedition the Tuan Muda could muster no more than 100 antiquated muskets and a few rifles, which included twelve flint and six percussion muskets, all that could be spared from Kuching. There was much to be done, but there was deficiency of means to do the work. The Rajah's advice to him was: "to encourage the good, intimidate the bad, and confirm the wavering." The difficulties were so many, and the means at hand so limited, that the position would have been hopeless except to a man of great tact, patience, daring, and untiring activity, able to bear all the responsibility, all the anxiety, and all the work upon his own shoulders. It must be borne in mind that Kuching was some 125 miles away, that those were the days when there were no steamers, and that during the north-east monsoon navigation was dangerous to boats. How the Tuan Muda succeeded will be told in this record of his career; here it will be sufficient to say, quoting the late Rajah, "that he was the right man in the right place, and that we are all children in Dayak management compared to him."
In 1856, the Tuan Muda writes (in Ten Years in Sarawak): —
We are almost daily having alarms in one place or another; sometimes on water and sometimes on land. And upon one side of the whole length of the river, the inhabitants dare not farm or live, fearing attacks from the interior of Sekrang and Saribas. Small parties make their foraging excursions and run away with a head here and there, and are far distant before we can follow them up.
Intertribal feuds, which had been more or less dropped in the common cause of piracy – and the plethora of heads it afforded – had now broken out again, and were growing in intensity. Besides these troubles in the Batang Lupar and Saribas, the Dayaks of the Rejang living on the Serikei and Kajulau rivers were giving considerable trouble. These Dayaks had moved over from the Sekrang and Saribas and were hand-in-glove with Rentap's rebels. They were open and declared enemies of the Government. The Kajulau was considered to be the centre of the enemy's country, and also to be inaccessible to attack. Confident in their impunity, they were becoming a terror to the peaceable inhabitants of the Rejang delta, so the Tuan Muda determined to attack them, and organised an expedition – the first to act independently of Kuching assistance, except for the loan of the dozen old muskets above mentioned.
