A royal smuggler

The next day, as my brother and I were reclining beneath the deck-awning, Prabu related the following history:—

“I have told the sahibs how greatly I venerate the memory of the Counselor Black, their uncle; as Allah knows, it is with reason. When a little slave-boy, he bought me from a harsh, cruel master, and being pleased with my grateful behavior, and considering I possessed talents, caused me to be educated for a clerk—that is, had me taught the Dutch and English languages. More, he would have given me my freedom, but feared the jealousy of his fellow-rulers, to whom it was known that I was the descendant of a prince, and one too, once the direst and most hated foe of their countrymen.”

“You, Prabu, descended from a prince!—a real, right-down, royal highness?” asked Martin.

“Have patience, sahib,” he replied; “for to the history of that noble man I shall soon come. In the Dutch books,” he continued, “I read the story of the great deeds done by the Hollanders when they fought to throw off the tyranny of Philip, King of Spain, and how that, by virtue and bravery, from a nation of slaves they became a free people: for this I could have loved them. But in other books, I read that in the East—except in China and Japan, where, for the sake of gold, they behaved as truculent slaves—they have been tyrants, more hateful and cruel than him whose yoke they overthrew; and I first asked myself, whether God had placed hearts in the breasts of Dutchmen, and then hated them. The latter was for deeds done to me and mine; but the sahibs shall judge for themselves.

“When the first Dutchman, under one Houtman, found their way to the Archipelago, in the year 1595 of the Christian era, the island of Java was divided into several kingdoms—Cheribon, Martaram, Bantam, and Jacatra. It was not until thirty years after the arrival of these locusts, that the supreme rule was held chiefly by a great Susunan of the House of Martaram. Upon their coming, they were received by the Javans and other islanders with open arms; but these Dutch, aye, and the Portuguese and English, who were already established in the Archipelago, and almost as bad, must have been the scum of their own countries; for, taking advantage of the simplicity of the people, they cheated and robbed them at every opportunity—nay, behaved like demons, who considered all less cunning than themselves as birds and beasts of the forest—lawful prey.

“Thus, even the first fleet of these adventurers made war upon Bantam and Saduya, and at Madura murdered the king and his family, while they were paying them a friendly visit on board the fleet. Surely such arts should have opened the eyes of the native princes to the real character of their visitors, and have caused them to prevent the coming of others!—but not so. Fresh fleets, invited by the gains of their countrymen, came; and, by making great professions of amity and moderation, were permitted to establish themselves in the kingdom of Jacatra. In gratitude for this concession, the pirates arose against the prince, subdued his kingdom, and built Batavia upon the site of his capital. Having obtained a firm footing in the land, they commenced a series of intrigues, setting the native princes one against the other, occasionally aiding each, but keeping faith with neither. Thus they gradually became virtually masters of the country, although many of the native princes were permitted to hold their rank and titles. Among these was the great Susunan Mangkorat, whom they had helped to the throne against his younger brother. During this reign happened what the Dutch call the rebellion of Surapati.

“That Surapati, sahibs, was my ancestor, and is a name held holy in the memory of every true-blooded islander.”

“Was he the born prince, then, of whom you told us?” asked Martin.

“Not so, sahib—not born a prince; far nobler, a self-made one.”

“A successful rebel, then,” said my brother; but, not noting this, Prabu continued:—

“Surapati, when a child of seven years of age, was brought from Bali among the crowd of slaves who were annually taken into Batavia by the Dutch, whose ruin would have been brought about by their own tyranny, had there been six other such men in the island. Well, Surapati was bought by a Dutchman of the name of Hesse, for whom he toiled, and was well treated, till, forgetting that he was a slave, he dared to fall in love with his master’s daughter—a crime so heinous in the eyes of the Hollanders, that, upon detection, the slave was severely flogged, and ordered to be placed in the public stocks, where, with sixty of his countrymen, he had to endure the scoffs and personal insults of Europeans; but, sahibs, the stocks could not prevent his brain from thinking, nor his heart from beating. Thus the wood that galled his limbs kindled in his breast a hatred that, to his last day, never became quenched, and which, dying, he bequeathed to his descendants, in whose hearts it burns, even now, as fiercely as ever.

“Well, one night, after weeks of confinement, Surapati succeeded in releasing himself and countrymen, and, having slain the Dutch sentinels, they fled to the mountains near Batavia, upon which town, from time to time, the band made such fierce raids that it became the terror of the inhabitants, who began to put the city in a state of defense, and armed themselves to their very teeth. Surapati now, finding the place too strong and well prepared, led his small band eastward, aye, to the very capital of the Susunan in Casard. Ever bold and fearless, he one day alone entered the palace of the Susunan, and dared to shame the monarch upon his throne for his great amity with the rapacious foreigners, whose puppet he had become. And the Susunan—who, although he feared the power of the Dutch, at heart was disgusted at the thraldom in which they had placed him—agreed to give secret aid and countenance to any design that Surapati and his patriot band might form against them.

“When the Hollanders discovered in whose dominions their now terrible enemy was hiding, they sent an ambassador, demanding that he should be given up to them; but the Susunan evaded the request, upon the plea of respecting the laws of hospitality; at the same time, however, he told them they might search any or every part of his dominions. Having obtained this concession, the Dutch, to capture this little band, sent one thousand men, in addition to those they had already in the Susunan’s dominions. So great a force would have compelled Surapati to flee, but, then, his patriotic designs against the hated Hollanders had obtained for him the friendship of the prime minister, who not only gave him his daughter in marriage, but, with the permission of his royal master, espoused his son-in-law’s cause.

“Thus, at the head of a comparatively small force, Surapati met the foreigners in the field successfully, defeating and killing them to a man. After this victory, Surapati retired still further eastward, and, seizing upon several provinces, established an independent kingdom, which, for twenty years, was happy and prosperous under his rule; although, during all that period, he never lost an opportunity of meeting and harassing the enemy. Sahibs, had he lived a few more years, that great man would have hunted the pirates from the island; and in that very attempt he died, for although conquering place after place, he never lost one, and at length fell in battle with the Dutch.”

“Well, Prabu,” said Martin, “he was a plucky fellow, and deserved all he got but his death.”

“Aye,” said I, “and deserved a monument to his memory.”

“His monument is the hatred in the hearts of his countrymen—a hatred never to be appeased, if only in memory of the dastardly treatment of his corpse,” replied Prabu. “For a long time after the battle,” he added, “the Dutch were sorely grieved, for they could not find the body of the hero: they were afraid that the soul would re-inhabit it, and bring back their enemy—so they offered a large reward for its discovery. The reward was tempting to some degenerate Javans, for, forgetting their lord, they showed the Dutch chief the grave; but it was level—no one could discern a tomb. The body was, however, dug for and found. It was still entire as when alive, and shed a perfume like a flower-garden. The Hollanders bore it away to their camp, and, placing it in a sitting posture in a chair, the officers took the corpse by the hand, saluting it according to the custom of their country, and tauntingly exclaiming, ‘This is the hero Surapati, the mighty warrior, the enemy of the Dutch!’ After this they threw the body into a great fire and burned it to ashes. For this,” concluded Prabu, in a greatly excited state, “do I hate the Dutch; and for thousands of acts, still worse, do my countrymen abhor them!”

“And I do not wonder,” said I; “but why should the Chinese, foreigners like themselves, and equally as money-loving, share in that hatred?”

“For numberless deeds of cruelty and oppression, and not the least the great and cold-blooded massacre of their countrymen in 1740, when in Batavia alone, on that one occasion, more than ten thousand were slain.”

“But surely, Prabu, the brutes must have made some show of an excuse for such butchery!”

“Yes—that the Celestials were meditating a conspiracy to drive them from Java; but the truth was, that the Chinese had flocked into Batavia to a number that alarmed the Dutch. Jealous also of their intelligence and wealth, they goaded the Celestials by excessive taxation, arbitrary punishments, and frightful executions, until the latter could bear no more, and threatened to rise in rebellion. This was sufficient for the European rulers, who commenced a system of persecution; still, it was not until 1740 that the revolt commenced.

“The crisis was brought about by the forcible seizure of a number of Chinese, and their deportation to Ceylon, under pretext of their being engaged in committing irregularities in the neighborhood of Batavia. Exasperated by this tyranny, the Chinese in the vicinity of the city, who were not restrained by the presence of a military force, committed acts of violence, excess, and cruelty. Taking advantage of this, the Dutch promulgated a story of a wicked and long-meditated conspiracy, to destroy the European authorities. Between the Dutch troops and the armed mob of Chinese in the environs, several indecisive actions took place. On the 7th day of October, it was discovered that the Chinese quarter of the town was on fire. This was construed into an artifice to mask an attempt to murder the European inhabitants in the confusion of the conflagration.

“The habitual timidity of the Dutch colonists took alarm; the massacre of the Chinese inhabitants of Batavia forthwith commenced, and was in a few hours formally authorized by an order of the Government, which directed that none but the women and children should be spared. A band of brutal sailors was landed from the fleet in the roads, to carry this order into effect; the doors of the Chinese houses were burst open, and the inhabitants dragged out and massacred, without offering the smallest resistance. The city was in a state of conflagration, and nothing was to be seen throughout but fire, murder, and rapine—victims and executioners; it was not until the twenty-second of the same month that an armistice was proclaimed. The effects of this abominable tyranny were felt from one extremity of Java to the other: the Chinese who escaped the slaughter marched to the east, and leagued themselves with the Susunan, who were very willing to be rid of their common oppressors; and a series of revolts, wars, or rebellions was the consequence, which continued, for a period of fifteen years, to desolate the fairest portions of the island, and to exhaust its resources.”