Ammunition by Telegraph in Nineteenth-Century Labuan

Having recently read Alfred McCoy’s Policing America’s Empire: The United States, the Philippines, and the Rise of the Surveillance State, I’m interested in pursuing further his claim that the “information revolution” brought about by such technologies as the typewriter, the telegraph and the telephone played an important role in enabling the Americans to bring the Philippines under their control by looking at the role that these technologies played across Southeast Asia at that time.

At the end of the nineteenth century, the British North Borneo Chartered Company faced a series of conflicts against its rule that came to be collectively referred to as the Mat Salleh Rebellion, named after the figure who initiated the hostilities (supposedly the guy below the X in the above picture). This conflict lasted from 1894 to 1905. Mat Salleh, however, was killed at the end of January 1900.

In reading the Wikipedia entry on the Mat Salleh Rebellion, we see that in early January of 1900, the Company captured some villages held by Mat Salleh and his supporters, and that at the end of the month Mat Salleh’s fort was captured and Mat Salleh was killed.

What Wikipedia doesn’t tell us is that in the middle of the month an important telegram was sent.

On 15 January 1900, the deputy-governor of the British-controlled island of Labuan (off the northern coast of Borneo) sent a telegram to the governor of North Borneo, Hugh Clifford, who was at the time in Singapore. The deputy governor informed Clifford of the recent successes in capturing “enemy villages,” and then informed him of the following request from the commandant in the field:

“Commandant expects long struggle. Orders Flint to wire Singapore Ordnance store for Martini ammunition, percussion fuzes, shrapnel, double shell, gunpowder friction tubes for 7-pr. mountain howitzer.”

The deputy-governor went on to add that “We are quite ignorant regarding quantities, but recommend good supply.”

I found another document which indicates that Governor Clifford set sail for Labuan the next day, January 16, with “a supply of ammunition,” and arrived in Labuan on 20 January.

At the end of January, Mat Salleh’s fort was captured, and he was killed.

Without the benefit of the telegraph, would that have happened?

Coercing the Natives in 1870s Sarawak

Kuching, Sarawak is a lovely place. Clean and with a relaxing atmosphere, it is difficult to imagine it as a place of suffering. However, for many of its early years it was probably not such a nice place.

I came across this article from the Sarawak Gazette for 1 February 1873. It is about colonial policy, and in particular, about whether one should use force in order to “improve” the natives.

“How the natives of a wild and savage country may best be improved and taught to develop their natural capacities has always been a leading question amongst civilized colonists of the better sort,” the article begins.

The writer then goes on to say that there are two main theories on the subject. The first originates in “a rougher age” and is “to treat natives as beings so vastly inferior to the colonists in all respects, and so hopelessly incapable of improvement, that they are unfit to be trusted with any power, treated with any regard, or credited with any spontaneous impulses towards a better state. . .”

The second is the product of a “newer liberal and philanthropic spirit” and is to recognize “the rights of natives as well as their capability for being made useful and profitable to the colonists, and endeavors to quicken their self-respect and to show them how the adoption of new customs and ways of life is in the end for their own advantage as well as for the profit of their would-be teachers.”

While the latter approach is more noble, the author states that it is impractical, and coercion is still to some extent necessary.

The author then goes on to talk about the specific examples of the enforcement of sanitary rules and road making, argues that while both of these endeavors are beneficial for the natives, they can only be achieved with the use of coercion.

In talking about attempting to get the natives to clean up their houses to make them more hygienic, for instance, the author states that, “Anyone who is acquainted with the surroundings of an ordinary Malay or Dyak house must be prepared to grant that uncleanliness is its normal condition, and any care for the removal of filth and offal the exception, and there does not appear to be much probability of the natives improving in this respect unless some pressure is put upon with from without.”

Getting the natives to build roads, on the other, strikes the author as a bit easier. “It also occurs to us, hearing as we do continually of the abject poverty and destitution which prevail in large sections of the native population, that it would be no great hardship to these people to be set to work for moderate wages, in which food might be included, on roads which they would afterwards have to keep in repair.”

This is a fascinating document. It is written in beautiful language, but the lovely words in the text are essentially approving oppression and exploitation. Colonial doublespeak.

The Rhythm of Ships and Suffering Chinese in Colonial Sarawak

I was reading the Sarawak Gazette from the 1890s, when Sarawak was under the control of the Brooke family, and I was looking at how the news from Kuching, the capital, was presented.

At that time the Sarawak Gazette was published once a month, so each issue contained a month’s worth of news. That news was presented more or less chronologically.

What is interesting is that there were two topics which predominated: 1) the criminal activities and deaths, etc. of Chinese and 2) the arrival and departure of ships. Other topics were covered as well, but information about Chinese and ships appear the most frequently.

In reading through the paper, there is a kind of rhythm to the way this information is presented. Here is a sample from 1 April 1895.

-P.S. Adeh sailed for Singapore via Sibu on the 12th.

-A Chinese prisoner who was undergoing three months imprisonment for theft escaped from a gang working on the new road at Tanjong Patingan on the 14th.

-On the previous night two Chinese, awaiting trial for theft, escaped from the cell in the Police Station by pulling up portions of the flooring.

-His Highness the Rajah, accompanied by Sir W. Bampton Gurdon left for Sibu and Kapit in H.H.S. Aline on the 18th and returned to Kuching on the 23rd.

-The Lorna Doone returned from Limbang on the 21st and sailed again for Sadong on the 23rd, returning to Kuching on the 25th with a cargo of coal.

-Another prisoner, one Tan Yong Miow, who was sentenced to six months imprisonment on the 5th ultimo, for illicitly cooking opium, escaped from the gang working at Tanjong Patingan on the 22nd. He was however recaptured some hours later hiding in a clump of thorny palms, not far from the spot.

-S.S. Rajah Brooke arrived from Singapore with passenger, the Revd. J. Verbrugge, on the 20th. She had been expected a day earlier but was delayed by bad weather at Singapore.

-A Chinese named Ah Goo was recently found hanging, dead, in an empty Dayak house near Senna.

-The P.S. Adeh returned from Singapore via Sibu on the 29th.

-A Chinese named Chu Ah Lam, cook at the plank factory on Ah Chick’s land in Kling street, was found hanging in an empty and unfinished house in Kling street on the 29th. An inquest was held the same day and the jury returned a verdict of suicide.

-S. S. Rajah Brooke left for Singapore on the 30th at 6 a.m. with passengers, Sir. W. Bampton Gurdon and Mr. A. Durward.

-She was followed at 8 o’clock by H.H.S. Aline, with His Highness The Rajah and the Hon’ble H.F. Deshon on board, bound for Sadong.

—–

This is the rhythm. A ship arrives. A Chinese prisoner tries to escape. A ship leaves. A Chinese hangs himself. A ship arrives. Another Chinese hangs himself. A ship leaves. A Chinese prisoner tries to escape.

There is so much here which seems to reflect the colonial condition. You have the logical regularity of the movement of the ships and the desperate, but silent, suffering of the Chinese laborers. The ships can represent the imposition of colonial rule and exploitation, while the Chinese who are imprisoned and dying represent the colonized.

The European colonizers have the freedom to move about and even leave the colony, whereas the Chinese can go nowhere. Death is their only escape. But that escape comes in such lonely places – abandoned houses.

Although the information is presented in this paper in a very prosaic or matter-of-fact manner, what it reveals is a horribly exploitative society, where ships arrive and Chinese die, ships leave, and Chinese die, alone and far from home, in abandoned shacks.

A Remedy for Fugu Poisoning in 1895 Sarawak

I came across and article in the Sarawak Gazette from 1895 entitled “Poisoned by the Buntal Fish.” In Sarawak there is a fish, the buntal fish, which is like the Japanese fugu or pufferfish. It has a toxin in it which has to be carefully removed before eating it, otherwise. . . well read the article below and you will see what can happen otherwise.

Private Unong of Kabong caught some river buntal and partook of three small ones for his evening meal. In a very short time he experienced a curious feeling steal over him. His lips first became, as it were, paralyzed and then the same queer sensation pervaded his body. He called for help, and his comrades together with Malay doctors came to his assistance and proceeded to medicine him in the most approved fashions (probably however unknown to the European faculty!).

A mixture called akar bangun (a root from North Borneo which is said to possess the property of preventing intoxication) was administered in water then they hoisted Private Unong on to the kitchen shelf (para) and lit a good big fire under him (which proceeding recalls to our mind the remedy for a trek ox than can move but won’t!) and proceeded to roast him! A violent fit of vomiting presently slightly relieved their patient and when taken off the shelf he sank into a coma and slept for two days and nights.

After still further roasting, and consuming a drink composed of shavings of porcupines teeth (a most efficacious medicine), Private Unong – whose sufferings might remind us of those of the early martyrs, declared himself to be “fit for duty.” He now goes by the nickname of Salai Indut. (The stream from whence he obtained the fish was S. Indut).

It would be interesting to know what the poison of the buntal fish is and what portions of the fish are really dangerous. Some natives consider different parts such as the skin, spikes, a portion of the stomach, etc. etc. to be very poisonous, others however disagree with them. The sea buntal is poisonous too but people partake of it often with impunity. Some Malays pretend there are different species which are more deadly than others; those with the “red eyes” (mata mirah) are certain to cause death, and the proceedings as in the case of the fortman above mentioned would, if he had partaken of the “red eyed one,” have been quite useless.

Sarawak Gazette, July 1, 1895 (pg. 125)

News of Death in 1895 Sarawak

I was reading the Sarawak Gazette for May 1st, 1895. It contains a section on local news. This section consists mainly of single-sentence reports about the arrival and departure of ships:

“S.S. Rajah Brooke reached here from Singapore on the 6th.”

“S.S. Lorna Doone arrived from Limbang on the 9th with passenger, Mr. E. Bartlett.”

“S.S. Rajah Brooke sailed for Singapore on the 23rd with passengers, Fathers Driessen and Verbrugge.”

Then interspersed between these brief notices, are matter-of-fact reports of deaths. Such as the following:

1) S. S. Vyner arrived from Singapore, with a mail, on the 14^th and having discharged a part cargo of cement left the same evening for Sadong.

A fatal accident occurred on board the vessel whilst in port. One of the crew, Dollah by name, fell down the fore-hold and sustained a severe compound fracture of the arm and concussion of the brain: he was at once removed to hospital but died on the 19th without having regained consciousness.

At Sadong whilst taking in her cargo of coal, a similar accident occurred to a Malay coolie named Yahyia. He fell down the fore-hold and dragged a portion of the hatch with him. He died the same evening.

2) Goh Moey and Goh Pau, Chinese potters, brought a boat load of jars from the factory at Tanah Puteh to Kampong Tanjong on the evening of the 14th. Having disposed of their wares they were returning down river, when Goh Moey, who was rowing, saw his companion fall into the water. He sank at once and did not rise again. The body was not recovered till the 16th, when an inquest was held on the remains. The jury returned a verdict of accidental death by drowning.

3) The Sultan of Pontianak is dead.

4) It was reported on the 20th that the dead body of a Chinese was lying on the river bank near the race course. The body was brought to the mortuary by the police and an inquest was held the next day. A verdict of found drowned was returned. Deceased was not identified and no one has been reported missing.

5) On the morning of the 19th the remains of a Sambas youth, 12 years of age, named Mohamat, son of one Leman, a Sambas settler, was brought in in an advanced state of decomposition. The body was found hanging by a piece of creeper, Akar militik, from a young durian tree in a small fruit grove on the S’kati plain.

The deceased had run away from his parents some ten days previously and it was thought he had gone over to Sambas. When last seen he was said to have been in an excitable state, and on observing one of his relatives, who were in search of him, made off.

– – –

There is something so tragic and lonely about all of these deaths. Two coolies falling into the hold of a ship, hitting their heads and dying. A Chinese potter falling overboard and drowning. A distraught Malay boy hanging himself. And an unidentified Chinese man found dead on a river bank. Even the passing of the Sultan of Pontianak seems lonely as it is rendered in a single short sentence.

Did the coolies have any family members? I would imagine that the unidentified Chinese must have had relatives back in China. Did they ever find out what happened to him? Or did he go off in search of wealth, only to die alone by drowning and wash ashore on a river bank?

What makes these deaths seem even darker is the juxtaposition of the reports of ship arrivals and departures with the reports of these deaths. A human life and a ship arrival are of equal note.

Not all, however, was dark and meaningless. There is one account from the same paper of a near death. That this person survived was in part due to the kindness and help of strangers.

“Ajan, a Batang Lupar Dyak, was brought in on the evening of the 13th in an unconscious state owing to his having been bitten by a snake “Tedong Mata Hari” whilst on his way to Simatan, about 1 ½ miles from here. Ammonia and whiskey in strong doses being administered, Ajan recovered during the night and was able to return to his house the next morning by boat. He was unable to walk for several days, his left leg being paralysed.

Ajan stated that he was about to drink some water from a small stream he was crossing when he heard a hissing noise and was almost immediately struck by a snake on the big toe. The snake he says was not more than two feet long.

On being bitten he tied a handkerchief round his leg and ran to a Chinese pepper garden as hard as he could until he lost the power of his limb and fainted. He was found by some Chinese, and was brought in by some Dyaks who fortunately happened to be passing that way.”

The jungle frontier world of 1895 Sarawak must have been a tough place to live. Many people probably died suddenly and senselessly, like the coolies who fell into the holds of ships and the Chinese potter who fell overboard. And many probably died alone too, like the unidentified Chinese man and the young Malay boy.

But it looks like at least some people helped others as well, and thanks to such people, Ajan survived.

Senselessness and kindness – two of the most powerful forces in human history – were both clearly present in 1895 Sarawak.

Boloh Bathes SEAsian Style

I recall reading an account by a Western traveler to Siam who noted that there were crocodiles in the rivers, but that since Buddhist monks performed rituals to appease them, they did not harm the people who bathed in the river.

In Borneo the situation was apparently different. In the 1920s, for instance, American adventure writer E. Alexander Powell recorded the following information about crocodiles in Borneo:

The crocodile obtains its meals by the simple expedient of lying motionless just beneath the surface of a pool where the natives are accustomed to bathe or where they go for water. The unsuspecting brown girl trips jauntily down to the river-bank to fill her amphora – usually a battered Standard Oil tin. As she bends over the stream there comes without the slightest warning the lightning swish of a scaly tail, a scream, the crunch of monster jaws, a widening eddy, a scarlet stain overspreading the surface of the water – and there is one less inhabitant of Borneo.

But instead of proceeding to devour its victim then and there, the crocodile carries the body up a convent creek, where it has the self-control to leave it until it is sufficiently gamey to satisfy its palate. For the crocodile, like the hunter, does not like freshly killed meat. Hence, the crocodile swimming up-stream with a native in its mouth is by no means an uncommon sight in Bornean rivers.

“But it is a quick death,” as an Englishman whom I met in Borneo philosophically observed. “They don’t play with you as a cat plays with a mouse – they just hold you under the water until you are drowned.”

[E. Alexander Powell, Where the Strange Trails go Down: Sulu, Borneo, Celebes, Bali, Java, Sumatra, Straits Settlements, Malay States, Siam, Cambodia, Annam, Cochin-China (New York : C. Scribner’s Sons, 1921), 107-108.]

In light of these comments, I found the following entry in the Sarawak Gazette for April 1, 1895 remarkable:

“On the 28^th of February a girl of about 17 or 18 years of age, Boloh by name, went down early in the morning to bathe at the landing place in front of her mother’s house at Sejejak; she had no sooner entered the water than she was sized (i.e., seized) by a crocodile by the elbow and hand. The landing stage was moored with posts and to one of these Boloh clung with her other hand; her cries for help attracted several men to the spot and the beast becoming scared let go his hold. The girl was severely lacerated by the sharp teeth of the crocodile.”

Boloh was tough!! You go girl!!

A Durian Murder and State Borders in 1895 Sarawak

If I could go back in time, I would love to visit the island of  Borneo in say the late 19^th century. The Brooke family from Great Britain had established their own kingdom of Sarawak, and the Dutch had incorporated some of the island into their colonial empire of the Netherlands East Indies. Meanwhile, thousand of Chinese came to work in these areas, and this disrupted the lives of the indigenous Dayaks, as well as the Malays who lived along the coasts.

I found this short article below in the February 1, 1895 edition of the Sarawak Gazette. Although brief, it provides an interesting view of some of the things that were going on.

“Near the end of November last a Boonan Dyak named Patun was murdered, it is said by Merjang Dyaks of S’kyam. Patun had gone alone, to get durians, to a point about two hours’ walk from his house. The body was found two days later, by deceased’s son, decapitated and covered with wounds from spears and gunshots, about 20 fathoms from the durian tree. One spear had been left, stuck through the abdomen of the victim.

The chief of the house in which deceased lived sent over into Dutch territory to make inquiries, and learned from the chief of Serang that some of the people had met seven Merjang (S’kyam) Dyaks carrying a fresh head which they admitted having taken near Boonan in Sarawak territory. It is said that these Merjang Dyaks recently had one of their men murdered whist guttaing [I assume this means “collecting gutta percha”] in Netherlands India territory and that they laid the blame on Sarawak Dyaks. The people of Boonan have been much disturbed by the occurrence and several had removed to Engklass; those remaining at home hardly venture to visit their padi farms.”

As Eric Tagliacozzo has shown in his book, Secret Trades, Porous Borders: Smuggling and States Along a Southeast Asian Frontier, the establishment of a border between British and Dutch territory on Borneo brought a new dynamic to the island as it created a division where none had previously existed.

Prior to the arrival of these two peoples the indigenous Dayaks had been divided into different groups who at times fought with each other. This was tribal warfare. In establishing a “state” border across the island, however, these conflicts took on a heightened significance, as “subjects” were now “transgressing borders.”

Maybe I’m reading too much into this short article, but I kind of get a sense that this is why a story like this was reported. It is showing the potential problems that might occur if people are not better controlled and the border is not effectively enforced. As Tagliacozzo shows in his book, that is exactly what the two colonial governments end up doing over time.

AMOL – King of Buton

I found this article in the British North Borneo Herald from March 16, 1906. It is about a crazy English writer who left Great Britain and went to the island of Buton (Bouton), to the south of Sulawesi (Celebes). What is great about this article is the way in which the indigenous people interpret his writing on paper as a sign that he is a priest who is making magic charms against disease. I have no idea if this is true or not, but I hope it is.

The article:

Mails from Celebes in the Eastern Archipelago, says Lloyd’s News, tell of the advent of a mysterious Englishman, who has taken up his residence on the Island of Bouton.

Early in July last year arrived in a sailing boat a bronzed, broad-chested stranger, accompanied by a little fair-haired dwarf, apparently his servant. According to the story told by the agent of a wealthy merchant of Macassar, the two white men proceeded to build a large log house, the interior of which they painted a brilliant scarlet. Over the threshold, flanked by Union Jacks, they raised a gigantic wooden shield, bearing a portrait of the master of the house seated at the apex of a pyramid, round the base of which a crown of pigmies groveled, looking upwards with expressions of bewilderment and awe. Beneath this wonderful device was a mysterious inscription: “I am a M.O.L.”

Hundreds of natives came to look at the “funny white men,” but the master repelled their curiosity, brandishing a couple of revolvers. The quaint shield roused the admiration and curiosity of all, and stories were told by the superstitious of dark deeds done at midnight in the house of the strange white man.

One native, more educated than his brothers, read the inscription beneath the shield and the word went forth that the big white man was a new god, named Amol, and that the dwarf was his attendant priest. This story was readily believed because of the hundreds of sheets of white paper which Amol daily covered with mysterious writings, believed by the natives to be charms against disease.

For six months the Englishmen lived on the stores they had brought with them. Then the dwarf set said for Macassar to lay in a new supply. He told a curious tale about his employer.

“Amol,” he said, had told him that he was the “greatest English novelist alive.” But the English people were fools, and did not appreciate good work. Cheap journalism and upstart publishers combined to stifle men of letters. He was himself a man of letters although no one would believe it. For years he had been unwillingly compelled to prostitute his genius that he might live. But at last a rich lady who had hoped that he would marry her died of a broken heart, bequeathing him her fortune. Forthwith he shook the dust of London off his feet, leaving behind him, he hoped for ever, his unappreciative native land.

A Dutch doctor who recently visited the Englishman declares that he is mad. As they sailed away from Bouton they saw the poor fellow standing on the shore, and his cry, “Oh! don’t forget I am a man of letters!” was borne across the waters.

A Dutiful Chinese Opium Seller in British North Borneo

I found this short article in the British North Borneo Herald (6/16/1906, pg. 149). It is excerpted from a newspaper from Penang. It is about a man, Mr. Lim Paik Kiew, who worked in British North Borneo but who journeyed to Penang to celebrate his mother’s seventy-first birthday.

The article praises Lim Paik Kiew’s sense of filial duty. What I find interesting are the historical and cultural insights which one can gain from it. First, it is interesting, but not surprising, to find a Chinese with connections in both Penang and British North Borneo. It is also interesting to see what Lim Paik Kiew’s business was – he managed the opium, spirit, gambling and pawnbroking farms in British North Borneo. Finally, it is also interesting to see that as part of the birthday celebrations for his mother, the poor in Penang were entertained with “Chinese Wayang.”

The article is as follows:

One of the finest traits in the character of a Chinaman, be he of high birth or low caste, is his unbounded reverence for his parents, his complete submission to parental rule. From earliest childhood he is taught to repose implicit confidence in his parents and to render cheerful obedience to their orders, and even anticipate their wishes. The adoration of a really dutiful son for his parents is practically limitless and the degree of respect for them is often so marked that it appears to the uninitiated to be reverence bordering on awe.

There are no limits to the lengths of pilgrimages which a good son will take in the performance of such acts as he knows or believes will give pleasure to his parents – what he knows to be his duty – and during the last few days a very striking of this came to our notice. We refer to Mr. Lim Paik Kiew, a very busy man, who travelled all the way from British North Borneo to Penang to take part in the celebration of the seventy-first anniversary of his mother, Mme. Cheah Lean Ngoh, the widow of the late Lim How Ewe, one of the best known merchants of Penang for years prior to his death.

The celebration ceremonies commenced on Tuesday last, when a large number of relatives and friends were entertained at dinner by the son, at 68 King Street, who responded to the toast of his mother’s health in a very neat speech, teeming with felicitous allusion to the venerable lady to whose careful training and good care he attributes so much of his success in life. For the amusement of the poor and to enable them to share in the celebration there was a performance of Chinese Wayang in front of the Chinese Town Hall in full swing all Tuesday.

Mr. Lim Paik Kiew, it may be mentioned, is the managing partner of the Ban Chin Lee Opium, Spirit, Gambling and Pawnbroking farms of the whole of British North Borneo. He is also the Agent of the Straits Echo in Sandakan and all parts of B. N. B. We cordially wish him a safe and pleasant voyage on his return to Borneo, and to the worthy lady to whom he has proved such a dutiful son we extend our heartiest congratulations on the occasion of her 71st anniversary. – The Penang Daily Bulletin.

Two Chinamen, a Meat Chopper, and Plucky Sergeant 108

I came across an article in the British North Borneo Herald for March 16, 1906 entitled “Plucky Conduct of a Police Sergeant.” I had to check the meaning of “plucky” as it is not a term I use often. Plucky is defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as “having or showing determined courage in the face of difficulties.” That certainly fits its usage in this article. To quote,

On 15^th ult. [i.e., Latin “ultimo” meaning “last” month in this case] a batch of coolies arrived in Jesselton by s.s. Darvel and one absconded. On 17^th Sergt. 108, Raidollah Khan received certain information and in the early morning about 3 o’clock he visited a Chinese gardener’s house (behind the Chinese Cemetery) and found two Chinamen, apparently asleep; in rousing them he was suddenly attacked by one of the men who seized a meat chopper and cut the Sergeant across the head. The other Chinaman never attempted to help the Sergeant but on the contrary encouraged his friend to strike.

The Sergeant had a long struggle but pluckily succeeded in overpowering his assailant, not, however, before he had received a deep stab in the left leg above the knee—this did not prevent him, single handed, bringing both Chinamen to the Civil Police Station together with the chopper.

The two men were identified—No. 1 (the man who attacked the Sergt. ) as “Ng Pau” the absconded coolie—and No. 2, Wing Yin, a discharged prisoner who is well known.

The Sergeant, after securing his men in the lockup, went to the Hospital where his wounds were sewn up. The leg would is a bad one and will confine him to Hospital for at least a fortnight.

We understand that Sergt. Raidollah Khan has received in substantial form acknowledgement of his bravery in bring his two prisoners a distance of one mile being himself wounded severely in the leg and head.