Various
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 61, No. 377, March 1847
A tiger having attacked and torn a Javan woman, a hunt was ordered, and Dr. Selberg was invited to share in it. He got on horseback before daybreak, but the sun was up and hot when he reached the place of rendezvous, where he found a strong muster of Europeans and Javans. “In front of us was a small wood, choked and tangled with bushes: this was the tiger’s lair. At about twenty paces from the trees, we Europeans posted ourselves, with our rifles, twelve paces from each other, and in the form of a semicircle. Behind us was a close chain of several hundred Javans, armed with long lances, kreeses, and short swords. If the tiger broke through our ranks, they were to kill him after their fashion. The natives – those, at least, who have not served as soldiers – being unskilled in the use of fire-arms, are not trusted with them, for fear of accidents. From the opposite side of the wood a crowd of musicians now advanced, beating drums, triangles, and gongs, and making an infernal din, intended to scare the tiger from his lurking place, and drive him towards us. We were all on the alert, guns cocked, eyes riveted on the wood. The instruments came nearer and nearer, and I expected each moment to see the monster spring forth. There were no signs of him, however, and presently the beaters stood before us. Heartily disappointed at this fruitless chase and unexpected result, I was about to join the hunter stationed to my left, when the one on my other hand called a Javan, and bade him thrust his lance into a bush on my right front, between our line and the little wood. Impossible, thought I, that the beast should be there: and I turned to speak to my friend. I had uttered but a word or two, when a rustle and rush made me look round. The Javan stood before the bush, clutching a tiger by the throat with both hands. The brute was already pierced with bullets, lances, and daggers: a broad stream of blood flowed over the face of the Javan, who continued firmly to grasp his enemy, until we released the lifeless carcase from his hands. His wound was not so serious as we had at first feared: a bit of the scalp was torn off, and the nose slightly injured. He stood silent, and apparently stupefied, and revived only when an official informed him that he should receive the reward of ten dollars, set upon the head of every tiger.”
Although these field-days occasionally take place, the Javans have another and easier way of tiger catching, by means of a magnified rat-trap, baited with a goat, and of which the door closes as the tiger rushes in. The captive is then killed with bamboo spears, or, more frequently, transferred to a strong wooden cage, and taken to a town, where he contributes to the amusement of his conquerors by fighting the buffalo. The Java buffalo is of the largest species, is covered with short thick hair, and has sharp horns, more than two feet long, growing in a nearly horizontal direction. His colour is of a dirty blue-black, and altogether he is a very ugly customer, as the unfortunate tiger usually finds. For these duellos between the forest grandee and the lord of the plain, a regular arena is erected, surrounded by strong palisades, behind which stand Javans armed with lances. After the buffalo has been brought into the ring, a native, generally a chief, approaches the tiger’s cage with a dancing step, accompanied by music, opens it, and retires in the same manner, keeping his eyes fixed upon the tiger. The tiger, who well knows his formidable opponent, comes unwillingly forth, and creeps round the arena, avoiding his foe, and watching an opportunity to spring upon his head or neck. Presently the buffalo, who is lost always the assailant, rushes, with a tremendous bellow, at his sneaking antagonist. The tiger seizes a favourable moment, and fixes his long claws in the buffalo’s neck; but the furious bull dashes him against the palisades, and, yelling fearfully, he relinquishes his hold. He now shirks the combat more than ever; but the buffalo follows him up till he pierces him with his horns, or crushes him to death against the barrier. Sometimes friend Tiger proves dunghill from the very first, and then the Javans goad him with pointed sticks, scald him with boiling water, singe him with blazing straw, and resort to other humane devices to spur his courage. If the buffalo fights shy, which does not often happen, he is subjected to similar persecutions. But the poor tiger has no chance allowed him; for if he does, through pluck and luck, prove the better beast, the Javans, who evidently have not the slightest notion of fair play, or any sympathy with bravery, subject him to an unpleasant operation called the rampoh. They make a ring round him, and torment him till he hazards a desperate spring, and finds his death upon their lance points.
It is a remarkable fact, that the Java tigers seldom or never attack Europeans. They consume the natives by dozens; but Dr. Selberg could get no account of an onslaught on a Dutchman or any other white man. The Javans are well aware of this, and assert, that if a number of Europeans, amongst whom there is only one native, are exposed to the attack of a tiger, the native is invariably the victim. This assertion is confirmed by many examples. Dr. Selberg conjectures various reasons for this eccentricity or epicurism, whichever it may be termed, on the part of the tiger, and amongst other hypotheses, suggests that the animal may be partial to the hogoo of the Javans, who anoint their yellow carcases with cocoa-nut oil. The Javans themselves explain it differently, and maintain that the souls of Europeans pass, after death, into the bodies of tigers – a bitter satire upon those whose mission it was to civilise and improve, and who, but too often, have preferred to persecute and deprave. Such a superstition demonstrates more than whole volumes of history, after what manner the first acquaintance was made between this artless, peaceful people, and their European conquerors. The early administration of the Dutch in Java was marked by many acts of cruelty. “Their leading traits,” says Raffles, “were a haughty assumption of superiority, for the purpose of over-awing the credulous simplicity of the natives, and a most extraordinary timidity, which led them to suspect treachery and danger in quarters where they were least to be apprehended.” Thus we find them, in the sixteenth century, murdering the Prince of Madura, his wives, children, and followers, merely because, when he came to visit them on board their ships, with friendly intentions and by previous agreement, his numerous retinue inspired them with alarm. The massacre of the Chinese in the streets of Batavia, in the year 1731, when nine thousand were slain in cold blood in the course of one morning, is another crime on record against the Dutch. Step by step, their path marked with blood, the people who had at first thankfully received permission to establish a single factory, obtained possession of the whole island. On its southern side there are still two nominally independent princes, in reality vassals of the Dutch, and existing but at their good pleasure. The present character of the Dutch administration is mild; the slaves, especially, now few and decreasing in number, are humanely treated, and in fact are better off than the lower orders of the free Javans, being employed as household servants, whilst the natives drag out a painful and laborious existence in the rice and coffee-fields. But, however good the intentions of the Dutch government, however meritorious the endeavours of certain governors-general, especially of the excellent Van der Capellen, to civilise and improve the Javans, little progress has as yet been made towards that desirable end. In the interior of the island, where Europeans are scarce, the character of the natives is far better than on the coast, where they have contracted all the vices of which the example is so plentifully afforded them by their conquerors. Dwelling in wretched huts, the cost of whose materials and erection varied, in the time of Raffles, from five to ten shillings, they till, for a wretched pittance, the soil that their forefathers possessed. Brutalised, however, as they are, living from hand to mouth, and suffering from the diseases incident to poverty and the climate, and from others introduced from Europe, they appear tolerably contented. In the midst of their misfortunes, they have one great solace, one consoling and engrossing vice; they live to gamble. For a game of chance, they abandon every thing, forget their duties and families, spend their own money and that of other people, and even set their liberty on a cast of the die. It is a national malady, extending from the prince to the boor, and including the Liplaps or half-breeds, who generally unite the vices of their European fathers and Indian mothers. The beast-fights are popular, chiefly because they afford such glorious opportunity for betting. Besides cocks and quails, tigers and buffaloes, other animals, the least pugnacious possible, are stimulated to a contest. Locusts are made to enter the lists, and are tickled on the head with a straw until they reach the fighting pitch. Wild pigs are caught in snares and opposed to goats, who generally punish them severely, the Javan pigs being small, and possessing little strength and courage. Then there are races between paper kites, whose strings are coated with lime and pounded glass, so that, on coming in contact, they cut each other, and the falling kite proclaims its owner’s bet lost. And by day and night, Dr. Selberg, informs us, on the high roads, and near the villages, groups are to be seen stretched upon the earth, playing games of chance. Nor are these by any means the lowest of the people. The doctor cites several instances of the extraordinary addiction both of men and women to this vice. He had ordered a quantity of cigars of a Javan, who undertook to make and deliver a hundred daily, for which he was to be paid a florin. For two days the man kept to his contract, and then did not show his face for a week. On inquiry, it appeared that, although wretchedly poor, and having a large family to support, he had been unable to resist the dice-box, and had gone to gamble away his brace of florins. To get rid even of this small sum might take him some time, thanks to the infinite subdivisions of Javan coinage, which descend to a Pichi, or small bit of tin with a hole through it, whereof 5,600 make a dollar. When Dr. Selberg left Java, a Dutch pilot steered the ship as far as Passaruang. The man appeared very melancholy, and, on being asked the of his sadness, said that, during his previous trip, his wife had gambled all his savings. He had forgotten the key in his money-box, and, on going home, the last doit had disappeared. Dr. Selberg asked him if he could not cure his better-half of so dangerous a propensity. “She is a Liplap, sir,” replied the man, with a shrug, meaning that correction was useless, and a good lock the only remedy. The merchants who ship specie and other valuable merchandise on vessels manned by Javans, supply the crew with money to gamble, as the only means to rouse them from their habitual indolent lethargy, and ensure their vigilance.
Whilst rowing up the Kalimas, Dr. Selberg was greatly dazzled by the bright eyes and other perfections of a young half-breed lady, as she took her airing in a tambangan, richly dressed in European style, and attended by two female slaves. A few days afterwards, when driving out to visit his friend Dr. F., the German chief of the Surabaya hospital, he again caught sight of this brown beauty, reclining in an elegant carriage-and-four, beneath the shadow of large Chinese parasols, held by servants in rich liveries. Our adventurous Esculapius forthwith galloped after her. Unfortunately, his team took it into their heads to stop short in full career – no uncommon trick with the stubborn little Javan horses – and before they could be prevailed upon to proceed, all trace of the incognita was lost. Subsequently the doctor was introduced to her husband, a German of good family, who had left his country on account of an unfortunate duel, and who, after a short residence in Java, where he held a government situation, had been glad to pay his debts and supply his expensive habits by a marriage with a wealthy half-caste heiress. The history of the lady is illustrative of a curious state of society. She was the daughter of a Javan slave and a Dutch gentleman, the administrator of one of the richest provinces of the island. As is there the case with almost all half-breed children, and even with many of pure European blood, she grew up under the care of her mother – that is to say, under no care at all – in the society of Javans of the very lowest class, her father’s domestics. The Dutchman died when she was about ten years old, having previously acknowledged her as his daughter, and left her the whole of his property. The child, who, till then, had been allowed to run about wild and almost naked, was now taken in hand by her guardians, and converted, by means of European clothes, into an exceedingly fine lady. Education she of course had none, but remained in her original state of barbarous ignorance. Four years afterwards she became acquainted with the German gentleman above-mentioned, and soon afterwards they were married. Dr. Selberg gives a characteristic account of his first visit at their house. “I went with Dr. F. to call upon Mr. Von N., but that gentleman was out. ‘Let us wait his return,’ said my friend, ‘and in the meantime we will see what his lady is about, and you can pay your respects to her. N. likes his wife to be treated with all the ceremony used to a lady of condition in our own country.’ We passed through several apartments, filled with European and Asiatic furniture and luxuries, and paused at the entrance of a large open room. With a slight but significant gesture, F. pointed to a group which there offered itself to our view. On a costly carpet lay several of Mr. Von N.’s black servants, both male and female, and in the midst of them was Mevrouw Von N., only to be distinguished from her companions by the richer materials of her dress. A silken sarong (a kind of plaid petticoat,) and a kabaya of the same material composed her costume; a pair of Chinese slippers, of red velvet, embroidered with gold, lay near her naked feet. She rattled a dice-box, and the servants anxiously awaited the throw, watching with intense eagerness each movement of their mistress. Down came the dice, and with an inarticulate cry the winners threw themselves on the stakes. So preoccupied were the whole party, that for some moments we were unobserved. At last an exclamation of surprise warned the lady of our unwelcome presence. The slaves ran away helter-skelter. Mevrouw Von N. snatched up her slippers, and with a confused bow to Dr. F., disappeared. I was confounded at this strange scene. My companion laughed, led me into another room, and desired me to say nothing of what I had seen to N., who presently came in, and received us with the unaffected frankness and hospitality universal in Java.” The Vrouw was now summoned, and, after a while, made her appearance in full European fig. Conversation with her was difficult, for she could not speak Dutch, and through a feeling of shame at her ignorance, would not speak Malay. Neglected by her husband, and placed by her birth in an uncertain position between Javan and European women, the poor girl had neither the education of the latter, nor the domestic qualities inherent in the former. Subsequently Dr. Selberg passed some time in Von N.’s house, and his account of what there occurred is not very creditable to the tone and morals of Javan society. Driving out one morning with his host, the latter quietly asked him if he was not carrying on an intrigue with his wife. “You may speak candidly,” said he, with great unconcern, and to the infinite horror of the innocent doctor. It appeared that Von N. had allowed his lady to discover a conjugal dereliction on his part, and he suspected her of using reprisals. “She is a Liplap,” he said, “and though you are only an orang bar (a new comer,) you know what that means.” Shocked by this cynical proceeding on the part of his entertainer, Dr. Selberg left the house the next day, after presenting Von N. with a double-barrelled gun in payment of his hospitality. Throughout Java, and even where hotels exist, private houses are invariably open to the stranger, and his reception is most cordial. But on his departure, it is incumbent on him, according to the custom of the island, to make his host a present, sufficiently valuable to show that he has not accepted hospitality from niggardly motives.
The credulity and superstition of the Javans exceed belief. Dreams, omens, lucky and unlucky days, astrology, amulets, witchcraft, are with them matters of faith and reverence. They believe each bush and rock, even the air itself, to be inhabited by Dhewo or spirits. Not satisfied with the numerous varieties of supernatural beings with which their own traditions supply them, they have borrowed others from the Indians, Persians, and Arabs. The Dhewos are good spirits, and great respect is shown to them. They regulate the growth of trees, ripen the fruit, murmur in the running streams, and abide in the still shades of the forest. But their favourite dwelling is the Warinzie tree (ficus Indica,) which droops its long branches to the earth to form then a palace. The Javans mingle their superstitions with the commonest events of every-day life. Thieves, for instance, will throw a little earth, taken from a new-made grave, into the house they intend to rob, persuaded that the inmates will thereby be plunged into a deep sleep. When they have done this, and especially if they have managed to place the earth under the bed, they set to work with full conviction of impunity. Bamboo boxes of soil are frequently found in the possession of captured thieves, who usually confess the purpose to which they were to be applied. During the English occupation, it was casually discovered that a buffalo’s skull was constantly carried backwards and forwards from one end of the island to the other. The Javans had got a notion that a frightful curse had been pronounced upon the man who should allow it to remain stationary. After the skull had travelled many hundred miles, it was brought to Samarang, and there the English resident had it thrown into the sea. The Javans looked on quietly, and held the curse to be neutralised by the white men’s intervention. Dr. Selberg gives various other examples, observed by himself, of the ridiculous superstitions of these simple islanders. A very remarkable one is given in the works of Raffles and Crawford. In 1814, it was found out that a road had been made up to the lofty summit of the mountain of Sumbing. The road was twenty feet broad, and about sixty English miles in length, and a condition of its construction being that it should cross no water-course, it straggled in countless zig-zags up the mountain side. This gigantic work, the result of the labours of a whole province, and of a people habitually and constitutionally averse to violent exertion, was finished before the government became aware of its commencement. Its origin was most absurd and trifling. An old woman gave out that she had dreamed a dream, and that a deity was about to alight upon the mountain top. A curse was to fall upon all who did not work at a road for his descent into the plain. Such boundless credulity as this, is of course easily turned to account by mischievous persons, and has often been worked upon to incite the Javans to revolt. The history of the island, even in modern times, abounds in insurrections, got up, for the most part, by men of little talent, but possessing sufficient cunning to turn the imbecility of their countrymen to their own advantage.
The weakness of the Javans’ intellects is only to be equalled by their strange want of memory. A few weeks after the occurrence of an event in which they themselves bore a share, they have totally forgotten both its time and circumstances. None of them have any idea of their own age. Dr. Selberg had a servant, apparently about sixteen years old. He frequently asked him how old he was, and never got the same answer twice. Marsden remarked this same peculiarity in the Sumatra Malays, and Humboldt in the Chaymas Indians. The latter people, however, do not know how to count beyond five or six, which is not the case with the Javans. Their want of memory renders their historical records of questionable value, producing an awful confusion of dates, in addition to the childish tales and extraordinary misrepresentations which they mingle with narratives of real events.
Although, is already observed, the corruption and immorality of the natives in and near European establishments is as great as their virtue and simplicity in the interior, it cannot be said that crime abounds in any part of Java. Within the present century prayers were read for the Governor-general’s safety when he went on a journey, and thanksgivings offered up on his return; now the whole island may be travelled over almost as safely as any part of Europe. The Javans are neither quarrelsome nor covetous, and even when they turn robbers they seldom kill or ill-treat those they plunder. On the other hand they are terribly sensitive of any injury to their honour, and all insult is apt to produce the terrible Amók, freely rendered in English as “running a muck.” It is a Malay word, signifying to attack some one furiously and desperately with intent to murder him. It is also used to express the rush of a wild beast on his prey, or the charge of a body of troops, especially with the bayonet. This outbreak of revengeful fury is frequent with Malays, and by no means uncommon amongst Javans. In the latter, whose usual character is so gentle, these sudden and frantic outbursts strike the beholder with astonishment, the greater that there is no previous indication of the coming storm. A Javan has received an outrage, perhaps a blow, but he preserves his usual calm, grave demeanour, until on a sudden, and with a terrible shriek, he draws his kreese, and attacks not only those who have offended him, but unoffending bystanders, and often the persons he best loves. It is a temporary insanity, which usually lasts till he sinks from exhaustion, or is himself struck down. The paroxysm over, remorse assails him, and he bewails the sad results of his matta glab or blinded eye, by which term the Javans frequently designate the amók. Apprehension of danger often brings on this species of delirium. “Two Javans,” says Dr. Selberg, “married men, and intimate friends, went one day to Tjandjur, to sell bamboo baskets. One got rid of all his stock, went to a Chinese shop, bought a handkerchief and umbrella for his wife, and set out on his return home with his companion, who had been unfortunate, and had sold nothing. The lucky seller was in high spirits, childishly delighted at his success, and with the presents he took to his wife; his friend walked by his side, grave and silent. Suddenly the former also became mute; he fancied his comrade envied and intended to stab him. Drawing his kreese, he fell upon the unoffending man, and laid him dead upon the ground. Sudden repentance succeeded the groundless suspicion and cruel deed, and some Javans, who soon afterwards came up, found him raving over the body of his friend, and imploring to be delivered to justice.” Seldom, however, does an amók make only one victim. The Javan women are not subject to these fury-fits, but are not on that account the less dangerous. Of an extremely jealous disposition, they have quiet and subtle means of revenging themselves upon their rivals. They are skilled in the preparation of poisons – of one especially, which kills slowly, occasioning symptoms similar to those of consumption. When a Javan perceives these, she resigns herself to her fate, knowing well what is the matter with her, and rejecting antidotes as useless. And European physicians have as yet done little against the effects of this poison, whose ingredients they cannot discover with sufficient accuracy to counteract them. A medical man told Dr. Selberg that copper dust and human hair were amongst them, combined with other substances entirely unknown to him. The dose is usually administered in rice, the chief food of the Javans. Arsenic, another poison in common use, is sold in all the bazaars. This poisoning practice is not unusual amongst Liplap women married to Europeans, and who, although nominally Christians, possess, for the most part, all the vices and superstitious of their Mahometan sisters. The latter can hardly be said to have any religion, for they know little of the faith of Mahomed beyond a few of its outward forms. It has been remarked, that since Java has been more mildly governed, and that the natives have been better treated by the Dutch, amóks have been far less frequent. By kindness, it is evident that much may be done with the Javans, whose gratitude and fidelity to those who show it them are admitted by all Europeans who have lived any time in the island. Another excellent quality is their love of truth. The tribunals have little trouble in ascertaining a criminal’s guilt. He at once confesses it, and seeks no other extenuation than is to be found in the usual plea of moral and momentary blindness.
Passaruang was the last Javan town visited by Dr. Selberg. He had promised himself much pleasure in exploring the province of the same name, and in examining the various objects of interest it contains. He intended to ascend the volcano of Pelian Bromo, whose fiery crater, seen from a distance at sea, had excited his lively curiosity; he wished to visit the ruins of old temples, vestiges of Javan civilisation a thousand years ago, and to gaze at the cataracts which dash, from a height of three hundred feet, down the rocky sides of Mount Arjuna. But he was doomed to disappointment. Up to this time his health had been excellent; neither heat nor malaria had succeeded in converting his wholesome German complexion into the bilious tint that stains the cheeks of most Europeans in Java. The climate, however, would not forego its customary tribute, and, on his passage from Surabaya to Passaruang, he fell seriously ill. After suffering for a week on board ship, he felt somewhat better, and went on shore, but experienced a relapse, and was carried senseless into the house of a rich Javan. He was gradually getting acquainted with the comforts of the country he had so lunch desired to visit. Already he had been nearly choked by the marsh vapour at Batavia, half devoured by mosquitoes, and all but drowned in a squall. In the island of Madura, whilst traversing a swamp, on the shoulders of a native, his bearer had attempted to rob him of his watch, and, on his resenting this liberty, he and his boat’s crew were attacked, and narrowly escaped massacre. And now came disease, aggravated by the minor nuisances incidental to that land of vermin and venom. Confined to bed by sudden and violent fever, he received every kindness and attention from his friendly host, who, on leaving him at night, placed an open cocoa nut by his bed-side, a simple but delightful fever-draught. Awaking with a parched tongue and burning thirst, he sought the nut, but it was empty. The next night the same thing occurred, and he could not imagine who stole his milk. He ordered two nuts and a light to be left near him: towards midnight a slight noise attracted his attention, and he saw two small beasts steadily and cautiously approach, stare at him with their protruding eyes, and then dip their ugly snouts into his cocoa nuts. These free-and-easy vermin were geckos, a species of lizard, about a foot long, of a pale grayish-green colour, spotted with red, having a large mouth full of sharp teeth, a long tall, marked with white rings, and sharp claws upon their feet. Between these claws, by which they cling to whatever they touch, is a venomous secretion that distills into the wounds they make. Dr. Selberg was well acquainted with these comely creatures, and had even bottled a couple, which now grace the shelves of a German museum; but, in his then feeble and half delirious state, their presence intimidated him; and, fancying that if he disturbed their repast, they might transfer their attentions to himself, he allowed them to swill at leisure, until an accidental noise scared them away. Their visit was, perhaps, a good omen, for, on the following day, the doctor found himself sufficiently recovered to return on board his transport. After some buffeting by storms, and a passing ramble in St. Helena, he reached Europe, his cravings after Eastern travel tolerably assuaged, to give his countrymen the benefit of his notes and observations upon the fair but feverish shores of the Indian Archipelago.