Chapter III · Rise and Prosperity of Sulu (continued 2)
Reading edition
December 30 was the day appointed for Sir James Brooke’s interview with the Sultan of Sulu. We landed in full costume at 10 o’clock. Having walked over the sea suburbs, and arrived at the beach, we found a guard of honor and attendants waiting to conduct Sir James to the Sultan’s presence; they were a motley group, but made themselves useful in clearing the way.
Passing within the outer stockade, we arrived, after a few minute’s walk, at the royal residence. It was walled in and fortified: a large space was inclosed by double rows of heavy piles driven into the earth, about 5 feet apart, and the space was filled up with large stones and earth, making a very solid wall of about 15 feet in height, having embrasures, or rather portholes, in convenient places for cannon, out of which we noticed the rusty muzzles of some very heavy guns protruding. A great part of the town was stockaded in a similar way; and the country houses of the datus and mountain chiefs of any importance were also walled in and had guns mounted.
Passing through a massive gateway, pretty well flanked with guns and loopholes, we entered a large court, in which some 2,000 persons were assembled, armed and in their best apparel, but observing no sort of order; it was a wild and novel sight. Malays are always armed. The kris to them is what the sword was to an English gentleman in the feudal times. Every person who, by virtue of his rank or on any other pretext, could gain admittance was in attendance on this occasion; for our Rajah had become a justly celebrated man in the great Eastern Archipelago, and was an object of curiosity.
We were conducted through the crowd to a corner of the courtyard, where a building inferior to a small English barn, was pointed out as the Sultan’s palace. We entered it by a flight of broad wooden steps (for the palace was raised on piles), through a narrow passage thronged with guards * * * and we found ourselves in the royal presence.
The audience chamber was not very large; a table, covered with green cloth, ran across the center of it; above the table, and around the upper end of the room sat a very brilliant semicircle of personages, the Sultan occupying a raised seat in the middle. The cortège consisted of his grand vizier, the members of the royal family, and the great datus and officers of state. Behind these stood the guards and attendants, dressed in silks, the colors being according to the fancy of their respective masters.
The Sultan gave us a gracious reception, shaking hands with each officer as he was presented. This ceremony over, chairs were placed for Sir James and his suite; while those of our party, who could not get seats, formed a semicircle on the other side of the table. The scene was striking and gay.
He was dressed in rich silks, red and green the predominant colors. A large jewel sparkled in his turban, and he wore jewels also profusely on his person.
The hilt of his kris, the great distinguishing ornament of all Malays, was beautifully decorated with gold wire, curiously twisted in. Immediately behind the Sultan, in closest attendance on his person, stood the cupbearer, a fine young man dressed in green silk, who held in his hand a purple finger glass, which was constantly held to his royal master’s mouth, to receive the filthy-looking mixture which is in such favor with these people—composed of the juice of the betel leaf, with the areca nut and gambier. The other personages composing the circle were dressed with equal gaudiness, in bright silks; in the selection, however, of their colors they displayed considerable taste. Many of the guards were dressed in very ancient chain armor, consisting of skull caps and tunics, covering the arms and reaching from the throat to the knee.
Those armed with sword, spear, and kris did not look amiss; but two sentries, placed to guard the entrance to this ancient hall of audience, each shouldering a very shabby-looking old Tower musket, of which they looked very proud, had an absurd effect.
After a reasonable time passed by each party in admiration of the other, the conversation was opened by Sir James Brooke, who, as Her Majesty’s commissioner in these regions, submitted to the Sultan certain propositions on matters of business.
At length we took leave of his Majesty, retiring in much the same order as that in which we had entered. Although no actual treaty was concluded with the Sultan, Sir James paved the way for opening up commerce and for cultivating a better understanding with the natives.
In the afternoon we visited one Datu Daniel, a powerful chief, very friendly, and well disposed toward the English. His stronghold was at a short distance in the country, at the foot of one of the mountain slopes, fortified in much the same way as the Sultan’s, but on a smaller scale; his stockades were, however, quite as strong, and his guns in better order. His inclosed court, being likewise a farmyard with a good supply of live stock, looked as if he was better prepared than his royal master to stand a long siege; his wives looked happy, his children merry, and, on the whole, his domestic life appeared tolerably comfortable. * * *
Considering that Sulu was the great commercial center of these seas, we were surprised at not seeing more large praus; there were none afloat, and very few hauled up; the number, however, of building sheds and blacksmith’s forges showed that they have the means of starting into activity at short notice.
Who could have thought that, after such devastation and havoc as the Spaniards wrought on Balangingi, another chief would have the courage to settle on such a hateful spot again! Yet we learn that in spite of the contrary advice of the Sultan and his council, Datu Tampang, as early as December, 1848, stationed himself at Pa’at, Balangingi Island, and constructed a fort with the intention of defying the Spanish forces and fighting them again. An isolated case like this can not be explained except on the ground of foolhardiness, for Tampang was soon after that dislodged by the governor of Zamboanga. But it appears that it was necessary again for the Spaniards to send another squadron under Manuel Quesada, consisting of two steam gunboats and other sloops and vessels, to clean up Balangingi once more and to strike at the Moros of Basilan and Pilas. Nor was this sufficient, for we learn that before the end of the same month of December, 3,000 Sulus and Samals attacked the Spanish forces on Basilan, probably at Isabela, and were repulsed. In 1849 the Spaniards retaliated and reduced to ashes the settlements of Bwal, Samalang, and Gumbalang. Undaunted, the Moros of Tonkil, together with others, in 1850 raided the Islands of Samar and Kamigin and carried away more than 75 natives.