Visits to Jolo of Captain Henry Keppel and Sir James Brooke

In December, 1848, Jolo was visited by Capt. Henry Keppel, in command of the Maeander, and his description of the town contained in the following extracts taken from his “Visit to the Indian Archipelago” will be of unusual interest:77

The town is built partly on land and partly on the sea. That part which is on the land, and which might almost be called the citadel, was at the time of our visit, strongly stockaded and flanked with batteries mounting heavy guns * * *. That portion of the town which is not within the stockades is built in regular Malay fashion, on piles. The houses run in rows, or streets; and outside of them is a platform about 6 feet wide to walk upon. This is supported underneath by a light scaffolding of bamboo. These rows of birdcage-looking buildings extend into the sea for half a mile over a shoal which is nearly dry at low water. The population is numerous, composed principally of fishermen and Chinese traders. The said platform runs the whole length of the rows: and its planks were so carelessly thrown across that it seemed wonderful how the children could escape, if they always did escape, falling through the yawning spaces which invited them to a watery, or a muddy grave; they were crawling about these rickety stages in vast numbers; if the tide was out when they fell, they would be received into 3 feet deep of soft mud, supposing always that they did not break their little backs across the gunwales of the canoes beneath, which were made fast to the scaffolding. * * *

What we saw of the country [in the neighborhood of Jolo] was highly cultivated, consisting, with intervals of jungle, of pasture grounds and gardens, very flourishing and pretty, with abundance of cattle. * * *

The day after we had commenced [watering] was a market day. The mountaineers came down in parties of from six to twelve, mounted on well-formed little horses, or oxen, according to their rank and means; on these they sat with graceful ease, spear in hand—they were all well armed besides, with shield and kris; in some instances also we observed the heavy two-handed Ilanun sword [kampilan]. They had a wild and independent bearing; and, when seen in groups, some standing, some squatting, the women all chattering, under the wide spreading tree, they much increased the interest of the already picturesque scene. They seemed indifferent as to the sale of their stock, which was conducted chiefly by the women, who freely accompanied them, and were by no means ill favored. The townspeople, who met and traded with these mountaineers, were dressed in gayer colors, but not so well armed. * * * Though the market on this occasion was well attended, the trade was slack; but I doubt not that, in the palmy days of active piracy, a considerable amount of business was transacted under this old banyan tree. * * *

December 30 was the day appointed for Sir James Brooke’s interview with the Sultan of Sulu. We landed in full costume at 10 o’clock. Having walked over the sea suburbs, and arrived at the beach, we found a guard of honor and attendants waiting to conduct Sir James to the Sultan’s presence; they were a motley group, but made themselves useful in clearing the way.

Passing within the outer stockade, we arrived, after a few minute’s walk, at the royal residence. It was walled in and fortified: a large space was inclosed by double rows of heavy piles driven into the earth, about 5 feet apart, and the space was filled up with large stones and earth, making a very solid wall of about 15 feet in height, having embrasures, or rather portholes, in convenient places for cannon, out of which we noticed the rusty muzzles of some very heavy guns protruding. A great part of the town was stockaded in a similar way; and the country houses of the datus and mountain chiefs of any importance were also walled in and had guns mounted.

Passing through a massive gateway, pretty well flanked with guns and loopholes, we entered a large court, in which some 2,000 persons were assembled, armed and in their best apparel, but observing no sort of order; it was a wild and novel sight. Malays are always armed. The kris to them is what the sword was to an English gentleman in the feudal times. Every person who, by virtue of his rank or on any other pretext, could gain admittance was in attendance on this occasion; for our Rajah had become a justly celebrated man in the great Eastern Archipelago, and was an object of curiosity.

We were conducted through the crowd to a corner of the courtyard, where a building inferior to a small English barn, was pointed out as the Sultan’s palace. We entered it by a flight of broad wooden steps (for the palace was raised on piles), through a narrow passage thronged with guards * * * and we found ourselves in the royal presence.

The audience chamber was not very large; a table, covered with green cloth, ran across the center of it; above the table, and around the upper end of the room sat a very brilliant semicircle of personages, the Sultan occupying a raised seat in the middle. The cortège consisted of his grand vizier, the members of the royal family, and the great datus and officers of state. Behind these stood the guards and attendants, dressed in silks, the colors being according to the fancy of their respective masters.

The Sultan gave us a gracious reception, shaking hands with each officer as he was presented. This ceremony over, chairs were placed for Sir James and his suite; while those of our party, who could not get seats, formed a semicircle on the other side of the table. The scene was striking and gay.

The Sultan is a young-looking man, but with a dull and vacant expression, produced by the too free use of opium: his lips were red with the mixture of betel nut and cere leaf,78 which he chewed.

He was dressed in rich silks, red and green the predominant colors. A large jewel sparkled in his turban, and he wore jewels also profusely on his person.

The hilt of his kris, the great distinguishing ornament of all Malays, was beautifully decorated with gold wire, curiously twisted in. Immediately behind the Sultan, in closest attendance on his person, stood the cupbearer, a fine young man dressed in green silk, who held in his hand a purple finger glass, which was constantly held to his royal master’s mouth, to receive the filthy-looking mixture which is in such favor with these people—composed of the juice of the betel leaf, with the areca nut and gambier. The other personages composing the circle were dressed with equal gaudiness, in bright silks; in the selection, however, of their colors they displayed considerable taste. Many of the guards were dressed in very ancient chain armor, consisting of skull caps and tunics, covering the arms and reaching from the throat to the knee.

Those armed with sword, spear, and kris did not look amiss; but two sentries, placed to guard the entrance to this ancient hall of audience, each shouldering a very shabby-looking old Tower musket, of which they looked very proud, had an absurd effect.

After a reasonable time passed by each party in admiration of the other, the conversation was opened by Sir James Brooke, who, as Her Majesty’s commissioner in these regions, submitted to the Sultan certain propositions on matters of business.

To these His Majesty expressed his willingness to accede; and he graciously reminded Sir James that the royal family of Sulu were under considerable obligations to the English; inasmuch as his great-grandfather, Sultan Amir,79 having been once upon a time imprisoned by the Spaniards in the fortress of Manila, was delivered from durance vile and reinstated on the throne of his ancestors by Alexander Dalrymple——A. D. 1763. This was now the more liberal on the part of His Majesty, because his royal ancestor had not at the time allowed the service to be altogether unrequited; for he ceded to the English Government a fine island adjoining Sulu (of which, by the bye, no use appears to have been made), together with the north end of Borneo and the south end of Palawan, with the intervening islands.

At length we took leave of his Majesty, retiring in much the same order as that in which we had entered. Although no actual treaty was concluded with the Sultan, Sir James paved the way for opening up commerce and for cultivating a better understanding with the natives.

In the afternoon we visited one Datu Daniel, a powerful chief, very friendly, and well disposed toward the English. His stronghold was at a short distance in the country, at the foot of one of the mountain slopes, fortified in much the same way as the Sultan’s, but on a smaller scale; his stockades were, however, quite as strong, and his guns in better order. His inclosed court, being likewise a farmyard with a good supply of live stock, looked as if he was better prepared than his royal master to stand a long siege; his wives looked happy, his children merry, and, on the whole, his domestic life appeared tolerably comfortable. * * *

Considering that Sulu was the great commercial center of these seas, we were surprised at not seeing more large praus; there were none afloat, and very few hauled up; the number, however, of building sheds and blacksmith’s forges showed that they have the means of starting into activity at short notice.

Who could have thought that, after such devastation and havoc as the Spaniards wrought on Balangingi, another chief would have the courage to settle on such a hateful spot again! Yet we learn that in spite of the contrary advice of the Sultan and his council, Datu Tampang, as early as December, 1848, stationed himself at Pa’at, Balangingi Island, and constructed a fort with the intention of defying the Spanish forces and fighting them again. An isolated case like this can not be explained except on the ground of foolhardiness, for Tampang was soon after that dislodged by the governor of Zamboanga. But it appears that it was necessary again for the Spaniards to send another squadron under Manuel Quesada, consisting of two steam gunboats and other sloops and vessels, to clean up Balangingi once more and to strike at the Moros of Basilan and Pilas. Nor was this sufficient, for we learn that before the end of the same month of December, 3,000 Sulus and Samals attacked the Spanish forces on Basilan, probably at Isabela, and were repulsed. In 1849 the Spaniards retaliated and reduced to ashes the settlements of Bwal, Samalang, and Gumbalang. Undaunted, the Moros of Tonkil, together with others, in 1850 raided the Islands of Samar and Kamigin and carried away more than 75 natives.