Major-General Sir Andrew Clarke, R.E., K.C.M.G., the new Governor, Commander-in-Chief, and Vice- Admiral of the Straits Settlements, arrived in Singapore on 4 November, 1873. The very lamentable state of Malay affairs had, from time to time, been reported to the Secretary of State for the Colonies, and Sir Harry Ord, while he made no suggestion for dealing with the situation, had expressed his regret that, as he was precluded from interference, he could do nothing to improve matters beyond offering advice that the various disputants should meet and settle their differences. If I have been able to give any idea of the conditions which then prevailed in the western states, it will be obvious that this advice was not, nor was it likely to be, accepted. Where all classes and nationalities are in arms fighting for different causes or different leaders ; where neither life nor property have any safeguard, except the owner's strength and will to defend them ; where robbery, or murder, or any other crime, meets with neither inquiry nor punishment, peace and order will not be restored by any voice from inside the disturbed regions, and the wisest counsels, unsupported by power to enforce them, will be given in vain.
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Lord Kimberley had, however, furnished Sir Andrew Clarke with instructions of the first importance, showing a disposition to make an entirely new departure, and to recognize the duty forced upon England, as the dominant Power, to interfere in the Malay States and put a stop to a disgraceful state of affairs. The duty was imperative from motives of humanity alone ; but it was equally certain that to undertake it would be highly beneficial to British interests and British trade, though these pleas had hitherto been dismissed as of no importance. The most timid British taxpayer will probably admit that it is not wholly unjustifiable to define more clearly an existing responsibility, in order to create and to keep a trade which is wholly, or almost wholly, British, and worth £12,000,000 annually.

Neither Lord Kimberley, nor Sir Andrew Clarke, nor any one else, could see so far into the future as to guess the result for which those figures speak, and it is safe to say that, while the Colonial Secretary desired to use British influence to save the Malays from themselves and give them the blessings of peace and justice, the Governor found it intolerable that the colony, for which he was responsible, should be harassed by the misgovernment of its neighbours.

In Sir Andrew Clarke's instructions, dated 20 September, 1873, were the following passages : —

" Her Majesty's Government have, it need hardly be said, no desire to interfere in the internal affairs of the Malay States. But looking to the long and intimate connexion between them and the British Government, and to the well-being of the British Settlements themselves. Her Majesty's Government find it incumbent upon them to employ such influence as they possess with the Native Princes to rescue, if possible, those fertile and productive countries from the ruin which must befall them if the present disorders continue unchecked.


" I have to request that you will carefully ascertain, as far as you are able, the actual condition of affairs in each State, and that you will report to me whether there are, in your opinion, any steps which can properly be taken by the Colonial Government to promote the restoration of peace and order, and to secure protection to trade and commerce with the native territories. I should wish you especially to consider whether it would be advisable to appoint a British Officer to reside in any of the States.

Such an appointment could, of course, only be made with the full consent of the Native Government, and the expenses connected with it would have to be defrayed by the Government of the Straits Settlements."

Here, then, for the first time, was the germ of the residential idea, though Abdullah, writing to Sir Harry Ord not long before, had gilded his plea for acknowledgment as Sultan of Perak, by requesting that a British officer might be sent to him to teach him how to rule the country. That request he repeated to Sir Andrew Clarke shortly after his arrival, and the Governor, having made all the inquiries necessary for his purpose, at once decided on the line of action.

Lord Kimberley's instructions were as wide as could be wished, and they contained a valuable and definite suggestion; but they invited the Governor to report his proposals, and Sir Andrew Clarke, a man of energy and decision, ready to take any responsibility, decided that this was no time for talking ; the situation demanded immediate action, and he would take it, reporting what he had done, not what he proposed to do. Naturally the Governor did not come to this conclusion until he had gone thoroughly into the case, taken the advice of all those who had any knowledge of Malay and Chinese affairs, and felt confident that he could carry his plan to a successful issue.

At that time there was, in Singapore, a very remarkable


and able officer in charge of Chinese affairs, Mr. W. A. Pickering (afterwards created C. M. G. for his many public services), and he was sent to Pinang to endeavour to persuade the heads of the Chinese factions, then warring in Larut, to agree to accept the Governor’s settlement of their differences. In this duty Mr. Pickering was entirely successful, and, as soon as he had telegraphed the result of his negotiations, the Governor started from Singapore in the colonial yacht for the island of Pangkor lying of the coast of the Dindings, near the mouth of the Perak River. The Governor sent ahead, or took with him, Mr. Bradell, the Attorney-General ; Major McNair, R.A., the Colonial Engineer ; Colonel Dunlop, R.A., the Inspector-General of Police ; and Mr. A. M. Skinner of the Secretariat, the party reaching Pangkor on 13 January. Meanwhile, by the Governor's instructions, I went from Pinang to Larut on board H.M.S. Avon to tell the Chinese that their friends in Pinang had agreed to suspend hostilities, and to invite the Mantri, and any other chiefs who could begot at, to meet Sir Andrew at the rendezvous on 15 January. By that date it had been possible to collect at Pangkor, Raja Abdullah, his relative Raja Idris (the present Sultan of Perak), and the chiefs who were his adherents, also the Raja Bendahara, the Mantri, the Temenggong, and the Dato Sagor ; but Raja Ismail and Raja Yusuf were too far away, and made no effort to attend. Mr. Pickering and the heads of the Chinese factions were also present

After some days of discussion an instrument was drawn up in English and Malay, and was signed and sealed on 20 January, 1874. It is known as the Pangkor Engagement, or Treaty, and provides, amongst other things, for the recognition of Raja Abdullah as Sultan of Perak, and the grant of the title of Ex-Sultan to Ismail, who is to hand over the regalia to Sultan Abdullah.

The two most important clauses are as follows : —


Clause VI. "That the Sultan receive and provide a suitable residence for a British Officer, to be called Resident, who shall be accredited to his Court, and whose advice must be asked and acted upon in all questions other than those touching Malay religion and custom."

Clause X, "That the collection and control of all revenues and the general administration of the Country be regulated under the advice of these Residents."

The Mantri was confirmed as the chief in charge of Larut, with an Assistant Resident, and Captain T. C. S. Speedy was immediately appointed to this latter office.

As soon as the document had been signed and sealed the Sultan was saluted, and he and his chiefs returned to their homes in Lower Perak. The heads of the Chinese factions then signed a bond, undertaking, under a penalty of $50,000, to disarm, to destroy their stockades, give up their row-boats, and not again to break the peace. At the same time a commission, consisting of Colonel Dunlop, Mr. Pickering, and myself, with the leaders of the Go Kuan and Si Kuan factions, was appointed to at once see that these promises as to the destruction of forts and the rendering up of all arms were faithfully observed, to arrange for a settlement of the dispute concerning the ownership of the mines, and to affect, if possible, the rescue of a number of Chinese women and children said to be detained in captivity by one side or the other.

The Governor and his party then returned to Singapore, and from there Sir Andrew sent a report of his proceedings to Lord Carnarvon, then Secretary of State for the Colonies. As soon as the facts were known the Chambers of Commerce of both Singapore and Pinang wrote letters of congratulation, and the Governor's action was received with high approval by all classes and nationalities in the colony.

As the result proved, this new departure was not to be all plain sailing ; indeed, the real difficulties had not even


begun. They were to last for years, and only after the loss of many valuable lives, the expense of infinite persistence and resource, did this novel experiment end in complete success. It is one thing to send two or three white men into a country where none of their kind have ever been seen before ; to tell them to advise those whose minds and traditions are crooked to follow the straight path and never deviate ; to endow them with the sole authority to collect and expend all revenues, and to regulate the general administration of the country, with do force behind them but their own courage, tact, ability, and the spectre of British power, miles away in the dim and shadowy background. It is quite another thing to evolve peace and order and prosperity out of these difficult conditions.

Still one cannot say too much for the new departure. It was action, instead of a culpable inaction, a craven shirking of responsibility ; it was the opportunity which had long been so earnestly desired by Englishmen who believe there is no web so tangled but they can unravel it, no problem so complex but they will find a solution. Lord Kimberley gave Sir Andrew Clarke the right to open the door of the Malay Peninsula ; he even suggested where he might find the key. The permission was entrusted to the right man, and Sir Andrew straightway put the key to the lock, opened the door, and left the rest to his agents and successors.

The first actual work was entrusted to the Commission appointed at Pangkor, and they lost no time in setting about it. The result of a month's hard and ceaseless travelling in boats and on foot was the complete destruction of all stockades, the collection of a large quantity of arms and ammunition, the rescue and restoration to their own people of forty-five women and children, held captive and hidden away in remote places in the jungle, and the settlement of the dispute as to the ownership of the mines,


with the delimitation of areas within which the rival factions should in future be allowed to take up land. That bald statement gives no idea of the difficulties with which the commissioners, absolutely unsupported in all out of the way places, had to contend, or how they were dealt with. For the most part, the means employed were the only ones available — tact and firmness, with an accent on the latter. As a sample of the conditions under which it was then necessary to travel about the country, the following extract from the report of the Commission will suffice. The members of the Commission, three Englishmen, one Chinese (the head of the Si-Kuans), and their servants, had to make their way by a branch of the Larut River to a point from whence there was said to be an elephant track to the Mantri's village, and the Mantri had promised to send elephants to meet the party at the point where they would leave the river for the land journey. The report, of which I was the writer, tells the rest.

''February 12, 1874. We anchored off the Larut River at 4 a.m. and at 5.30 stood in. About 9.30 a.m. the captain ran the vessel aground, and told us that we should have to wait several hours, till the tide turned, before we could get off. This, of course, we refused to do, and as we had done the day before, we got out the kedge, hauled the vessel off, and finding the right channel, reached the Mantri's stockade at 11 a.m. We heard there that everything had been ready for us the day before, so we knew that probably it would not be so to-day, and, with this to look forward to, we started, towing a big boat and a small one, to take us up the Limau River when the channel became too narrow for the steamer. A pilot took us into the river, and at 2 p.m. the s.s. Johore could go no further, so we all got into the big boat. She was so intensely slow that, after half a mile's progress, we were obliged to change into the small boat, and here our real


troubles began. This boat would only just carry us and our baggage, so we had to leave the servants and some of the things behind for a second trip. After going perhaps three miles in the boat, there were only a few inches of water, so we had to get out and walk in the river. The boatman and I dragged the boat, thus lightened, a few hundred yards further, and then I left him in charge and pushed on after the others, whom I found, half a mile higher up the river, in an old stockade on the bank of the stream. Here, with some difficulty, we found a few Chinese, and persuaded them to go and fetch our luggage and send the boat back for the servants. The things came in a short time, but the servants did not arrive for an hour and a half.

" Meanwhile we had ascertained that, the day before, there had been five elephants for us ; now there was only one, and that one had come by accident We were therefore obliged to compel the Chinese to carry our things through the jungle to Bukit Gantang, and we sent them off at once. At 5.50 p.m., daylight closing, we four --- Dunlop, Pickering, Ah Yam, and I — mounted the solitary elephant, the interpreter and three servants following on foot.

" The elephant was the slowest, and the path the worst, that it has ever been my misfortune to meet In fact, the path was no path ; it was a ' slough of despond,' as indeed we found to our cost It had been raining at intervals all the day, and the track, where it was not an unbroken stretch of water, was a succession of holes, at least two feet deep, and full of water. These holes had been made by the feet of elephants walking over the track. After an hour's progress it became darker than I have ever known it before, and darkness in dense jungle feels at least doubly dark. We could no more see our own hands than if they had been in the next State, so we were obliged to abandon ourselves entirely to the sagacity


of the elephant, and never knew whether he was off the track or on it, or whether there was a track at all. We were sitting back to back, on some wet grass, in an open pannier, with no covering of any kind, and, to make us thoroughly miserable, it began to pour with rain — buckets of tropical rain — and never ceased till late the next morning. We had no waterproofs, and umbrellas were impossible ; they would have been torn to pieces by the branches we could not even see.

" If we were miserable, our servants were in a far worse case. Floundering through mud and water, tumbling over fallen trees, and tearing through briars and thorns, all in pitch darkness, I believe they wished for a speedy end to save them from their intolerable woes. Indeed, they were in constant fear of being carried off by tigers, and as they could neither see the elephant nor each other, we tried to keep them together by constantly shouting to them, and by the two men who sat behind on the elephant smoking without ceasing. Those on foot followed our voices and the lights of our cigars for many miles. Occasionally the elephant, either frightened or doubtful of the road, would turn right round, and the servants were then obliged to scatter into the jungle, and wait there until he made up his mind to go on again ; when he did go, there was no little difficulty in getting them back on to his track. Sometimes the elephant would put one foot forward, then wait and consider for quite a minute whether he knew the road or not. When he stopped altogether, we had to call to the servants, to prevent their running against him and frightening him ; for an elephant is always afraid of anything that comes up behind him, and either slews suddenly round or lashes out with a hind foot When we could smoke no more we struck matches, as well as we could in the storm of rain, until our supply was exhausted. We crossed three considerable rivers in flood. We saw nothing, but we felt the


elephant make preparations as though to stand on his head ; then he evidently slid down a steep bank; we heard him ploughing through the water, and held on for our lives as he crawled up the opposite bank. How the servants got across I can't imagine ; they only did it by keeping together, spurred on by the fear of being lost in that inhospitable forest.

" But I feel it is impossible and absurd to attempt to describe what we went through that night ; ' nor pen can write, nor tongue can tell ' the misery we endured, nor will any one who was there easily forget it. When we had almost given up all hope of getting to our destination before daylight, we came out on to the road, at Changkat Jering, and there, in a deserted house, we found some of the Chinese who had taken on our luggage. The rain was still pouring in torrents, and the Chinese Commissioner, declining to go a step further, took refuge in the deserted hut ; but we preferred to go on, so we abandoned the elephant, and after walking three miles through mud and water, we reached Bukit Gantang between 11 p.m. and midnight. We woke up Captain Speedy, who had given us up, and as we had eaten nothing since breakfast, he entertained us royally. We were wet through, and our luggage being still on the road, we borrowed some sacks as night clothes, and in the absence of mosquito curtains, wrapped ourselves up in old tents and were soon fast asleep."

My impression is that that jungle has never been crossed by Europeans since.

The Commission visited many out-of-the-way places in the Larut, Krian, and Selama districts, in search of the captive women and children, and finally crossed the defile between the Larut and Perak valleys, reached the bank of the Perak River at Kuala Kangsar, secured a country boat, and, in her, paddled a hundred miles down the Perak River to the village of Sultan Abdullah, where they found their steamer and returned to Pinang, having completely accomplished their mission.


In November, 1873, a Malacca trading boat had been pirated at the entrance to the Jugra River, a tidal creek which joined the Langat River at the spot where the Sultan of Selangor was then living. Of the crew only one man escaped death, by slipping over the side and clinging to the rudder till the danger was past and he was able to swim ashore and, in the course of time, make his way to Malacca. Not long afterwards this man reported that some of those concerned in the crime had come to Malacca, and they were duly arrested. In February, 1874, Sir Andrew Clarke arranged with Sir Charles Shadwell, the Admiral of the China Fleet, who happened to be in the Straits, to join him in a naval demonstration at Jugra. The Governor took his yacht up to the Sultan's village and managed to get the Sultan to visit him, when Sir Andrew pointed out the disgraceful state of affairs which had so long continued, and asked the Sultan to give satisfaction for the recent ease of piracy. The Sultan proved most amenable, promised to assist his Viceroy to establish order in Selangor, and as regards the case of piracy, in which one of his own sons was implicated, gave full authority for the trial of the accused, but expressed his own opinion of the trivial nature of the affair by describing it as " boys' play." The prisoners were then tried by the Viceroy, and on the evidence of the sole survivor of the murdered crew, a number of Langat men were duly identified, convicted, and condemned to death. When the result of the trial was communicated to the Sultan, he sent a kris to be used at the execution ; the sentence was then carried out, the Admiral and the squadron sailed away, and the Viceroy was left with the éclat of these proceedings to quicken his authority.

It was not till later in the same year that I took up my abode in Bandar Langat — the “ City of Festivals ", as the mud swamp was otherwise named — but when I had been there a few months and was on terms of close


intimacy with the best society, I ascertained that the men who had been executed were not responsible for this particular crime, though the punishment must have been deserved on general principles. The evidence of the Malacca witness was positive and unshakable, but it is probable that his own state of mind would not allow him to take very careful note of the features of the assailants at the moment of attack, and from the rudder he would not, on a dark night, have a very clear view of the subsequent proceedings. The effect produced by the trial and execution was all that could be desired, for there has never since been a case of piracy on the Selangor coast, and from that day forward the Viceroy's authority was not seriously disputed.

In March, 1874, Lord Carnarvon gave his qualified approval of the steps taken by the Governor to give effect to the instructions he had received from Lord Kimberley, and, in May, after a debate in the House of Lords, the Secretary of State expressed his full sanction in generous terms.

In May, 1874, Sir Andrew Clarke invited the chiefs of Sungei Ujong and Rembau to meet him at Sempang in the Linggi River, the point where the main stream forks, one branch draining Sungei Ujong and the other Rembau. The Rembau chief failed to attend, but the stockade at Sempang was destroyed, and the Governor returned to Singapore satisfied that his action, and the visit of the two men-of-war, would impress the Malays with a conviction that misrule would no longer be tolerated.

In order to convey a correct appreciation of the various events which mark the establishment of England's influence in the Malay States, it is necessary to jump from place to place, and from incident to incident, in a way which can hardly fail to be irritating to the reader. Thus it is that I must return once more to the Sultan of Selangor, to chronicle my own appointment, as British


Adviser, to the Court of that delightful potentate. The Governor was still receiving letters from the Viceroy expressing his fears that the Sultan's sons were disloyal and secretly encouraging his enemies ; so, in August, Sir Andrew Clarke again visited Langat and left me there, with twenty Malay constables, to do what I could to keep the Sultan up to the high level of his expressed intentions. The police and I lived together in a very unattractive residence ; it was an old stockade with walls made of logs of wood, piled one on top of the other, a high-pitched roof of palm leaves, very far from watertight, the bare earth for floor, and two open spaces at either end for doors. The only path in the village passed right through the stockade, and the smallest effort would throw anything through one door-space into the river. Reeds, rank grasses, and jungle undergrowth grew up to the walls, and, at high tide, i.e. twice in every twenty-four hours, very little of the mud floor was left uncovered by water. The top of the log wall was well above high -water mark, and there one could sleep in luxury, except when it rained, and that was on about half the nights in the year. But I have been in worse places, and one of the great advantages of this residence was that you could make a fire anywhere within the walls without fear of burning a hole in the floor, and the log walls afforded an almost inexhaustible supply of fuel. A fire was not required for heating the premises, the temperature varied from 92o F. in the day to about 75o F. or 80o F. at night, but smoke was absolutely necessary to defend oneself against the attacks of the most numerous and bloodthirsty breed of mosquitoes within a thousand miles. So one made plenty of smoke and sat in it. Outside, the prospect was singularly unlovely; a few score of blighted cocoanut palms, with broken and drooping fronds, like the plumes of a hearse returning from a disorderly wake; some particularly disreputable and tumble-down huts ;


the dark-brown waters of two deep and eddying streams ; and all the rest mud and rank brushwood. When the tide went down, and the sun drew a pestilential vapour from the drying ooze, horrible, loathsome crocodiles crawled up the slimy banks to bask in the noisome heat. And every day great pieces of these banks, undermined by the violent onslaughts of the tide, fell helplessly into the stream, dragging in their fall some over-tired palm, some misshapen jungle tree, to lie with its head in the swirling water, its roots, torn from the ground, standing ragged and unnatural against a background of grey sky. If I was not perceptibly affected by the gloom of these surroundings, I gathered from the one or two strangers who visited me that they thought them rather uncanny ; but then the stranger never stayed long enough to appreciate the excitements of the City of Festivals.

My police guard was at first composed of Malacca Malays ; but as they grew homesick and became terrified by the stories they heard in the village, they were replaced by an equal number of men from Singapore, not so mild or well behaved, but better fitted for the duty. In the months which followed I travelled by steam launch, boat, and on foot over every district in the State ; they were laborious days and full of surprises, nearly always of an unpleasant description, but it was all new, useful, and crammed with incident and interest I wandered into Perak on one side, returning by a march of many days, and an eventful journey down an unexplored river, where for three days we (there were four Malays with me) never saw a human being or a habitation. I strayed into Sungei Ujong and paid a surprise visit to the old Dato' Bandar, the "Water Lord" of that State. He was not over cordial, but when he heard that, for the first time, there was a white man in his village he sent a message to say he would see me, and he took the trouble to explain some of the causes of his difference with the rival King, the " Land


Lord." I walked on to visit this latter chief and found with him Mr. Pickering, who had been sent up in October in response to an urgent request from the Dato' Klana (he was the Land Lord) that the Governor would help him to bring the Dato' Bandar to reason. The Dato' Bandar was passing old, as Malays go, and also passing wicked, even for his age and times ; but he had far more character than his younger joint-chief, and declined absolutely either to change his ways, give up any of the privileges he claimed, or come to terms. The Governor had written him several letters and bidden him to a meeting ; but he declined all advances, refused to see any one, and elected to remain in his tents ; that is to say, he remained in his own stockaded village, a place called Kapayang, and practically invited any one to come and draw him who liked the job. It was not my business, but so far as I could see it was a very pretty quarrel as it stood, and from what I heard from Pickering, it was not likely to be left there.

Mr. Pickering had with him a few police and an English Serjeant, and his mission was to see fair play and prevent the Chinese miners from joining one side or the other, should they come to blows. After a protracted correspondence and several interviews between Mr. Pickering and the old Dato' Bandar, the former decided that the Water Lord would not resort to armed resistance, though he declined to meet the Dato' Klana, or to admit that this chief had any higher authority in the country than he possessed himself. Mr. Pickering therefore decided to return to Singapore, and in order to do this he had to walk to the coast. As a side-light illustrative of the changes and chances of mortal life in the Malay States at that time, the following extract from Mr. Pickering's journal is interesting : —

" 7 November, 5.30 a.m. Some Malays brought a report that two Chinese had been murdered by supposed Rembau


men yesterday afternoon, between here and Permatang Pasir. 6.30 a.m. started again and found the road worse than ever, a muddy swamp, half a mile broad, commencing the journey, every step taking you up to the thigh in sticky clay. However, I think jungle travelling does not affect the health much, as one soon gets warm, and a course of phlebotomy by leeches takes the heated blood away from the constitution. At 7 a.m. we arrived at Linsum, the Dato' Akek's territory. Here his men met me, and called me to look at a dead Malay, who had just been able to reach this house when he dropped dead ; another man was here, wounded ; these were the men we had heard about I saw the dead man, and turning him over found a shot wound in his left breast. After that I visited the wounded person ; he had a shot wound on his right side which had gone through him, but he did not seem in danger. I interrogated him ; his story was as follows : ' My name is Haji Mahmud ; I am a small trader to Sungei Ujong, and live at Rambun China Besar, in British territory. Yesterday morning I, Sulong Iman (from Rambun China Besar), and another man started from Permatang Pasir to Sungei Ujong; Sulong Iman had a burden of rokok grass, and I had ten dollars on my person. The other man's name I don't know ; he joined us at Permatang Pasir. When about three miles from this, about I p.m., six or seven men attacked us. My head was down — I could not distinguish their faces. Sulong Iman was shot dead, I and the other man were wounded ; they took my money, and I ran with the other man here, where he died. I think they must be Rembau men, but I don't know. Sulong Iman's body is in the jungle.' Some of the Dato' Akek's men offered to accompany us on our way and look for the body ; after going about four miles, in the depth of the jungle we found the man's body, and close to it my feet stirred up a pool of blood. The man lay beside his burden, and a shot wound was in the


back of his head. After we had passed the part where robbers most frequent, the Dato' Akek's men went back, promising to bury the body, and said they had sent word to the Dato and would make every inquiry into the case. From 8.30 to noon we went through dense jungle and deep swamp, without a sign of cultivation. After this the country is open and covered with short grass. ... I had sent the letter for the Toh Muda ahead ; when I arrived at his place he was as hospitable as he could be during the Fast, and sent men to get me a boat for Malacca. He and his people complained much of the Dato' Bandar, as the only man now obstructive in Sungei Ujong. At 3 p.m. got a small boat with three oars, which was to take us down to Malacca. As we were four men in all (two police, self, and servant) we could not sit down, and the boat had no cover ; we were not very comfortable, but on the other hand we were sure to catch the steamer. 6 p.m. at Kuala Linggi (twenty miles from Malacca by sea), heavy rain.

" 8 November. Men had been pulling all night, and at daylight were off Tanjong Kling. 7.30 a.m., reached Malacca. 8 a.m., called on the Lieutenant-Governor and reported the murder of the Malacca men.”

As the state of affairs reported by Mr. Pickering seemed highly unsatisfactory, Sir Andrew Clarke sent him back to Sungei Ujong at once with a letter to the Dato' Bandar, telling that chief that the Government recognized the Dato' Klana as the head of affairs, and the Dato' Bandar must submit to him or take the consequences. The old man's only reply was that he was quite satisfied with things as they were ; would not submit to his rival ; and that the affairs of Sungei Ujong were no concern of the Governor, who did not understand Malays and their customs. In fairness to the Dato' Bandar, it must be admitted that, by ancient custom, the Dato' Bandar was probably correct in his contention, but he had for years

exceeded his authority, and treated the Dato' Klana as a young person to be kept in his place.

The Dato' Klana had provided himself with a small force of about forty Arabs, recruited in Singapore, and he was joined by some three hundred Malays of the country. Emboldened by these numbers and the presence of Mr. Pickering and his Malacca police, under an English sergeant, the Klana determined to bring the Bandar to reason. The Klana and all his friends were, however, arrant cowards, and when the force took the field and was met by a determined resistance, the Malay warriors disappeared, guns were abandoned on the road, and Mr. Pickering, Sergeant Kiernan, the Arabs and police were left to do all the fighting. They did it manfully ; for though they were at first compelled to retire and their position threatened to become serious, they returned to the fray, retook lost positions, and drove the enemy from all his strongholds except Kapayang, the Dato' Bandar's own village. This place had been made very strong by a number of newly-erected defences, and the Bandar had secured the services of Raja Mahmud, of Selangor, who was never so happy as when in command of a fight. Indeed, it was chiefly Raja Mahmud's name which had turned to water the blood of the local boasters, and, if the field had been left to the Malays, Raja Mahmud would have made short work of the Klana and his rabble.

The Governor had heard of Mr. Pickering's precarious position, and Colonel Dunlop was sent up with a relieving force of bluejackets and a few men of the 10th Regiment . In the face of this display of strength, the Dato' Bandar abandoned his village and retired into Selangor, Raja Mahmud holding the position just long enough to give the old man a fair chance of escape.

Sungei Ujong difficulties were thus brought to an end and as the Dato' Klana was now the undisputed ruler of the State, and sincerely anxious to do whatever he was


told, a British Resident was sent to him, and the work of putting his house in order was begun in earnest .

As for the Dato' Bandar and Raja Mahmud, they made their way to the City of Festivals, where I met them, and after a deal of trouble persuaded them to let me take them to Singapore to see the Governor. I have good reason to remember Raja Mahmud as he walked into my dilapidated stockade at the head of a dozen men who, like their master, feared God, but had no sort of fear of man. I suppose he was under thirty years of age, of average height for a Malay, very well built, and extra-ordinarily alive. He had a fine open face, looked you straight and fearlessly in the eyes, and you realized that he always spoke the truth, because the consequences of doing so were beneath consideration. He was very smartly dressed, with silk trousers and a silk strong, a fighting-jacket, a kerchief deftly and becomingly tied on his head, and in his belt the famous kris Kapak China — the Chinese hatchet. His jacket attracted my attention most, for I had never seen one like it before, and, for that matter, have not seen another since. It had short sleeves to the elbow, fitted rather tightly to the body, and was made of a thick silk in narrow stripes of white and red, while over it in every direction were printed, in heavy black, texts from the Koran in the picturesque Arabic characters. I thought at the time how remarkably well this weird and fantastic jacket suited the man, his bearing and his reputation. It was only a visit of ceremony, but Raja Mahmud's strong personality, his straightforward manner, and his fearless courage attracted me immensely. We made fast friends, and though I took him to Singapore, and he accepted the Governor's order not to leave that place for twelve months, I also took him back to the Malay States, and in all the years which followed he never failed me, or any one else who understood him. Only he was not an everyday man : he was a type of the


best quality of old Malaya, with all the Malay prejudices and hatred of innovation. One had to realize all this, to remember it, and to consider his view of life if you wished to see the best of him and earn his regard.

As for the old Dato' Bandar, he also went with me to Singapore, and gave himself up to the Governor's clemency. He was not allowed to return to Sungei Ujong, but was made comfortable with a house and allowance in Singapore, and there he died, as I have told in another book.1

It was in November, 1874, that a Proclamation was published, by Sir Andrew Clarke's directions, stating that the Secretary of State for the Colonies had approved all the arrangements made by the Governor with the Malay States, and warning all concerned that they would be held to the strict observance of their engagements. At the same time the following appointments were gazetted : —

Mr. James W. Birch, to be Resident of Perak, with Captain Speedy as Assistant Resident.

Mr. J. G. Davidson, to be Resident of Selangor, with Mr. F. A. Swettenham as Assistant Resident.

Captain Tatham, R.A., to be Assistant Resident of Sungei Ujong.

Mr. Birch, the Colonial Secretary at Singapore, had been sent to Perak in October on special service, and when that duty was successfully discharged, he received the appointment of Resident, which he was most anxious to obtain.

Mr. J. G. Davidson, one of the leaders of the Singapore Bar, a close friend and consistent supporter of the Viceroy of Selangor, and a man with strong sympathies for Malays, was selected as Resident of Selangor.

Captain Tatham's appointment was temporary, and he

1 The Real Malay.

was shortly afterwards succeeded by Captain P. J. Murray, R.N., who held the post till his death in 1882.

Thus each of the western States had been provided with a British Adviser, and to the uninitiated it might be supposed that everything would now go on satisfactorily. That, however, was the reverse of the case.

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