tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57314522895906371532024-03-13T11:05:50.215+00:00Sejarah MelayuSabri Zain's random notes, observations and queries exploring the history, culture and psyche of the MalaysSabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-54415194961302558372019-06-23T02:10:00.003+01:002019-06-24T07:13:50.265+01:00Napoleon and the Malay slave<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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In 1815, after his defeat at battle of Waterloo, Napoleon Bonaparte was exiled by the British to the island of St. Helena - a lonely, desolate rock in the middle of the vast Atlantic Ocean. When he first arrived on the island, Napoleon had to temporarily stay at the home of an official of the East India Company, William Balcombe. It was there that Napoleon met a Malay slave who was responsible for taking care of the Balcombe's beautiful garden and whom the Balcombes had given the name Toby.<br />
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Toby's story was rather pathetic. He had been enticed from his native place many years before, brought to St. Helena by the English, smuggled on shore and illegally sold as a slave, given out to whoever would hire him, and his earnings chiefly appropriated by his master.<br />
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Napoleon showed the Malay slave great kindness, perhaps recognizing in Toby a kindred spirit, or at least feeling a common bond in the fact that both had been brought unwillingly to the island and were doomed to die there. Certainly Napoleon liked Toby enough that, when he had heard his story, wished to buy him, set him free and send him back to his home country. But for political reasons, when Mr. Balcombe made Napoleon's wishes known to the island's governor, Sir Hudson Lowe, he could not get his consent.<br />
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Toby, however, was grateful to Napoleon for his wish to help him, and continued to be his devoted admirer. When Napoleon left the Balcombes' home to move to his own residence, Longwood, he presented Toby with twenty-nine gold napoleons and always inquired for his health. When Napoleon left The Briars, Toby often arranged bouquets and fruits to go to Longwood,—"to that good man, Bony."<br />
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Toby, from all accounts, was an attractive fellow. His countenance had a frank and benevolent expression. His eyes were animated and sparkling, his aspect not abject, but prepossessing. A perfect despot in his garden domain, he never allowed his authority to be disputed ; and the family stood almost as much in awe of him, as they did of the master of the house Mr. Balcombe.<br />
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Speaking to his companion in exile the Count de Las Cases, Napoleon frequently reflected on Toby's fate. "<i>What, after all, is this poor human machine? There is not one whose exterior form is like another, or whose internal organization resembles the rest. And it is by disregarding this truth that we are led to the commission of so many errors. Had Toby been a Brutus, he would have put himself to death; if an Aesop he would now, perhaps, have been the Governor’s adviser, if an ardent and zealous Christian, he would have borne his chains in the sight of God and blessed them.</i>"<br />
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"<i>As for poor Toby, he endures his misfortunes very quietly: he stoops to his work and spends his days in innocent tranquility. Certainly there is a wide step from poor Toby to a King Richard. And yet, the crime is not the less atrocious, for this man, after all, had his family, his happiness, and his liberty; and it was a horrible act of cruelty to bring him here to languish in the fetters of slavery.</i>"<br />
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There is no mention of Toby's death in the Count's journals, so it is possible Toby lived on after Napoleon's death in 1821. In 1818, Governor Lowe initiated the first step in emancipating the slaves in St Helena by persuading slave owners to give all slave children born on the island after Christmas of that year their freedom once they had reached their late teens. The phased emancipation of over 800 resident slaves began in 1827; under certain circumstances a slave could buy his or her freedom, using money borrowed from the East India Company. The actual abolition of slavery on the island had to wait until 1st August 1834, after which date all slaves would be freed but would remain in work, becoming paid apprentice labourers. Hopefully, that would have been Toby's fate had he lived to 1834.<br />
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Ironically, in 1840 the British Government designated St. Helena as its main naval station to suppress the African slave trade in the Atlantic (mostly to America, by this time). During its War on Slavery, Royal Navy ships based there pursued and attacked ships carrying slaves from British territories, with the captains and crews of the slave ships being tried at the Vice Admiralty Court that was established in St Helena.<br />
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<b><i>Extracted from "Memoirs of the life, exile, and conversations of the Emperor Napoleon (Volume I)" by Emmanuel, Comte de Las Cases [1836]. </i></b><br />
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Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-89347477633499362492019-06-16T11:11:00.001+01:002019-06-16T11:47:30.431+01:00The Martini-Henry's Baptism of Fire in the Malay States<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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In popular culture, when the vast majority of people think
of the British Empire, they envisage a redcoat soldier in his white sun helmet
clutching his trusty Martini-Henry rifle. In the film 'Zulu', when Colour Sgt.
Bourne remarked that it was a miracle their outnumbered outpost had managed to
defeat the Zulu army,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lt. John Chard
famously replied "If it's a miracle, Colour Sergeant, it's a
short-chambered, Boxer-Henry .45 calibre miracle." Martini–Henry variants
were the weapons of choice for the British army in the last three decades of
the 19th century, during the height of Britain's empire building days in Asia
and Africa. But not many realise that the very first time this iconic weapon
was fired in anger was in the Malay States of Perak and Sungei Ujong during the
war in 1875-1876.<br />
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The Martini-Henry first entered service in 1871, replacing
the Snider–Enfield muzzle-loading rifle. The Martini-Henry was the British
army's first rifle that was designed from the outset as a breechloader and, as
a result, had a faster rate of fire and a longer range than the Snider.
Utilising the .577/450 Boxer-Henry cartridge, it also had a very high calibre
and was to prove a real ‘man-stopper.’<br />
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However, the new weapon was not without its faults. As
service battalions and the Navy began to train the men in its use, they
reported an alarmingly large number of incidents of cartridge jams and
accidental discharges. Nevertheless, in June 1875, the British army's Director
of Artillery and Stores concluded “I think we need take no action at present,
it is a subject which may be discussed at a future conference, with other
points which may arise, when we get more experience with the arm”. That “more
experience” was not long in arriving.<br />
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On 2nd November 1875, the British Resident in the Malay
State of Perak was murdered by followers of a local Malay chief, Dato
Maharajalela, and the alarmed British rushed several army units to the Malay
Peninsula, including battalions which were just issued with the new Martini-Henry
such as the 10th Regiment, 80th Regiment (Staffordshire Volunteers) and 3rd
Regiment (The Buffs). By most accounts, the new weapon appears to have performed
admirably, contributing greatly to the rapid destruction of the opposing Malay
forces in Perak and Sungei Ujong. Lieutenant H B Eich of the Royal Engineers
reports that troops advancing slowly up the Perak River were suddenly fired
upon from a hastily- formed Malay stockade in the district of Belanja, near
modern-day Parit. "The enemy fired two or three volleys, and in the meantime
a gun and rocket tube were brought up and got into position. Two rounds of
shell and one of case shot were then fired into the stockade, as also two
rockets. Several rounds of the Martini-Henry were also fired, as the advanced
guard advanced - the enemy retreated forthwith."<br />
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A Straits Times report from 8th December 1875 described an
attack by the 10th Regiment on a strong Malay stockade at Paroi, near modern-day
Seremban. "Behind the ridge, there was good cover and, as the 10th doubled
up and lay down behind it, the enemy opened fire on them, which was returned
with such a continuous roar of musketry from the Martini-Henry that it must
have rather astonished the Malays."<br />
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However, someone else who must have been astonished during
that particular battle was the commander of the 1st Batallion 10th Regiment
Lieutenant Henry Charles Hinxman. In his despatches, Hinxman reported "I
was much disappointed with the new (Martini-Henry) rifles. When they get hot,
the extractor becomes jammed, and eight or ten of my men told me their rifles
were useless, so I told them to take the wounded men's rifles."<br />
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The problem did not appear to have greatly affected the outcome of the battle. Hinxman reported: "The enemy were now in full retreat up the hill at E. I formed up my men and poured effective volleys into them. We now gave three cheers and burnt the village."<br />
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Nevertheless, Hinxman's report caused a great deal of consternation in
London and the issue of the effectiveness of the Martini-Henry was even debated
in Parliament following the experience of the war in the Malay States. The
Hansard of 9th June 1876 reports that Sir Walter Barttelot called attention to
the question of the Martini-Henry rifle, believing that it was not the best
weapon with which to furnish our Army. "He
believed this weapon would absolutely fail if it came to the practical test of
war. At Perak it was reported on unfavourably, and it was said, that after
being fired a certain number of times it became too hot to hold, and the
cartridges got jammed."<br />
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However, the Surveyor-General of the Ordnance, Lord Eustace
Cecil, replied in the debate that "they had one report from Perak, which
stated that after a certain time the weapon got hot and out of order, and that
the men had to throw it away; but since then they had reports of the campaign,
and not a single fault was found with the rifle. There had been a solitary
report, and that was all."</div>
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The issue of the barrel heating up rapidly on high rates of
fire was something that continued to plague the Martini-Henry and men in the
field began to fashion their own hide leather grips to counteract the heat.
This became standard issue in 1884. However, the overheating problem persisted
- at the battle of Tofrek during the Sudan war in 1885, for example, as many as
half of the British rifles jammed.<br />
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Nevertheless, the variants and improvements of the
Martini-Henry saw service throughout the Empire for the remainder of the
century until it was replaced by the bolt-action Lee-Enfield rifle. It saw some
of Britain's most desperate conflicts, including the Xhosa war in Southern
Africa, the Second Anglo-Afghan War, the Anglo-Sudan War and the Anglo-Zulu
War. The power of the rifle’s legacy can even be seen today, as Martini-Henry
rifles continue to be found in Taliban arms caches in Afghanistan. But it was
in Malaya where this weapon of mass destruction found first blood.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-28448721578030226792017-01-01T00:39:00.000+00:002017-01-01T00:39:28.920+00:00The magic of Malayan place names<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />From 'An Illustrated Guide to the Federated Malay States' by Cuthbert Woodville Harrison (1874)<br />
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In the whole of the Federated Malay States there are not more than five places with English names. Port Weld, Kampong Dew, Teluk Anson, Port Swettenham and Port Dickson, are all named after English administrators. Everywhere else the towns and the districts have retained the musical collocations of vocables given them by those first colonists, the Malays. The Chinese amongst themselves have either Chinese names for many places or else use corruptions of the Malay sounds, but except in the case of the city of "everlasting peace," Taiping, their names have not prevailed over the original Malay. Tamil place names exist for the Tamil, too, but for them alone.<br />
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Amongst the Malay place-names are conspicuous those beginning With Kuala, a word meaning the mouth of a river. Kuala Lumpur means the mouth of the muddy (river). Port Swettenham was formerly Kuala Klang, the mouth of the Klang river, where it debouches into the sea. Port Dickson was at one time Pulau Arang. Port Weld was Kuala Sapetang. One says was, but really they are all so still, for the Malay population still uses the old terms, feeling perhaps that they are quite as euphonious as the new. This country has been spared the cacophonus combinations which afflict America, where the musical Indian names have faded with the fading of a race. But in Malaya the Malays, the only race with a normal birthrate, fade not at all, but, increasing and multiplying steadily, still impose their tongue and their place-names upon all alien races.<br />
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Read the names of the towns and districts from the map, and roll the liquid syllables upon the tongue. We could not better them with our unconscionable consonantal English names, and are you not grateful that we have not tried? Each of these names has a meaning, or had; nearly all of them refer to some natural object remarked by the first nomenclators. Trees, birds, flowers, rocks, rapids, all of them have been noted by someone in the past, found true and useful descriptions by the next comer, and retained unaltered. But many of them are now unmeaning to the men of to-day, and have either to be explained by some legend or referred to the aboriginal inhabitant's naming.<br />
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To take the map and consider of the names therein is an innocent pastime. Who, for instance, was To' Khalipah, who gave his name to a certain remote village on the Bernam river? " The iniquity of oblivion blindly scattereth her poppy and deals with the memory of men without distinction to merit of perpetuity." Be sure he was someone in his time, or such a high sounding title as Khalifa would not have been attached to him. Be equally sure that the old man was nobody at all but a Mendeling Malay who, after the custom of those immigrants from Sumatra, loved to bear a nominal dignity and gave it to the little place where he settled.<br />
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What are these "Kota" names which you find everywhere.? The word means a fort, of course, and they seem to have dotted a good many of them over the country in the old days. New fort and old fort, Kota Bahru and Kota Lama, even " old fort on the left bank," and " old fort on the right bank," Kota Lama Kiri and Kota Lama Kanan, all memory of their "drums and tramplings" is to-day lost, but no doubt in ages long gone past one held them and another went up against them, all after the approved methods of Malay combat when the pahlawan and the panglima, the knights of old, were bold.<br />
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Then what possessed them to call one of the highest hills Mount Buffalo, Gunong Kerbau, for assuredly no buffalo ever grazed its slopes? And is there anything distinctive in calling a place Bamboo Village, Kampong Buloh, seeing that there is hardly a village in the land where the bamboo hesitates to grow? Who was the stranger from the West who gave his name to Changkat Orang Puteh, White Man's Hill? How many people were taken by the crocodile of Kampong Buaya, Crocodile Village, before they set a bait for him, caught him and speared the ugly life out of him?<br />
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This nicknaming process seems to have been a great favourite in the past, and even yet it prevails. In Perak is a place called Blanda Mabok, Drunken Dutchman, named after an adventurer whose beer bottles and gin bottles still remain in a remote jungle breeding mosquitoes in the water they hold. In Negri Sembilan the British Resident's horse dying at a point on the road between Tampin and Kuala Pilah, the Malays called, and to this day call, the place Dead Horse Hill (Bukit Kuda Mati), quite after the best allusive American style of which the classic example is Dead Man's Gulch.<br />
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Black Water, While Water, Yellow Water (Ayer Itam, Ayer Puteh, Ayer Kuning), are all very common names, and are often still referable to the colour of a stream, and the Batu Glugor (weathered rock) names are easily to be interpreted. Casuarina Tree Point (Tanjong Rhu), Fish Point (Tanjong Sepat), are plain enough, and sometime in the seventeenth century there may have been a trading station on Pulau Pintu Gedong, and this name a corruption of Pulau Pintas Gedong, Island of the Channel to the Store. Certainly ingots of tin were dug up near the lighthouse there not long ago.<br />
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But of very many of these meaning and musical names all history has long been lost amongst this gentle and indolent people, who live for the happiness of to-day, and not pay heed of the future, equally inquire not of the past.<br />
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Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-21354817669126327482014-06-28T00:53:00.002+01:002014-06-28T01:10:48.203+01:00Singapura dilanggar todak: The mythical swordfish attack on Singapore<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Garfish</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>'Todak'</i> is the Malay word for a small swordfish, needlefish or garfish - a fish which skims along the surface of the water with its snout in the air. It is a fish that frequently features in Malay myth and legend.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Munshi Abdullah recorded that the <i>Orang Laut</i> (Sea People) regarded as <i>keramat </i>(sacred) the <i>Batu Kepala Todak</i>, the 'Swordfish Head Rock'. It was among several others at the mouth of the Singapore River. This one was the abode of an evil spirit to whom they made vows and offerings and raised banners in its honour. According to the <i>Hikayat Abdullah</i>:<i> "In the Singapore River estuary there were many large rocks, with little rivulets running between the fissures, moving like a snake that has been struck. Among these many rocks there was a sharp-pointed one shaped like the snout ot a swordfish. The Sea Gypsies used to call it the Swordfish's Head and believed it to be the abode of spirits. To this rock they all made pro-pitiatory offerings in their fear of it, placing bunting on it and treating it with reverence. 'If we do not pay our respects to it' they said 'When we go in and out of the shallows it will send us to destruction'. Every day they brought offerings and placed them on the rock."</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"All along the shore there were hundreds of human skulls rolling about on the sand; some old, some new, some with hair still sticking to them, some with the teeth filed and others without. News of these skulls was brought to Colonel Farquhar and when he had seen them he ordered them to be gathered up and cast into the sea. So the people collected them in sacks and threw them into the sea. The Sea Gypsies were asked 'Whose are all these skulls?' and they replied 'These are the skulls of men who were robbed at sea. They were slaughtered here. Wherever a fleet of boats or a ship is plundered it is brought to this place for a division of the spoils. Sometimes there is wholesale slaughter among the crews when the cargo is grabbed. Sometimes the pirates tie people up and try out their weapons here along the sea shore'. Here too was the place where they went in for cock-fighting and gambling."</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The peculiarly shaped spirit rock was blasted away by the British as a hazard to navigation. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Swordfish</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the <i>Sejarah Melayu</i> is found the well-known story of the swordfish attack on Singapore. <i>"After a while Singapura was attacked by swordfish, which leapt upon any one who was on the sea shore. If they attacked the victim in the chest, he was pierced through the chest and died: if they attacked the victim's neck, his head rolled off his shoulders and he died: and if they attacked the victim in the waist, he was pierced through the waist and died. So great was the number of those killed by the swordfish that there was a panic and people ran hither and thither crying, 'The swordfish are come to attack us! They have killed thousands of our people!'' And Paduka Sri Maharaja went forth on his elephant escorted by his ministersf137a war-chiefs, courtiers and heralds. And when he reached the sea shore he was astounded to see the havoc the swordfish had wrought; how not a victim of their attack had escaped; how those who had been stabbed rolledf over and over and died; and how the number of victims was ever mounting."</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"And he ordered all his men to (stand side by side so as to) form a barricade of their shins, but the swordfish leapt upon them and any one they stabbed met his death. Like rain came the swordfish and the men they killed were past numbering. Presently a boy was heard to say, "What are we making this barricade of our legs for? Why are we deceiving ourselves? If we made a barricade of banana stems, would not that be better?" And when Paduka Sri Maharaja heard this he said, "That boy is right!", and he commanded his men to build a barricade of banana stems. And the swordfish came on; but as soon as they leapt, their snouts stuck on the banana stems, where they were cut down and killed in numbers past counting, and that was the end of the swordfish attack. Paduka Sri Maharaja then returned to the palace and his chiefs said to him, "Your Highness, that boy will grow into a very clever man. It would be as well to be rid of him!" And the king agreed and ordered the boy to be put to death. But when this boy was executed the guilt of his blood was laid on Singapura."</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">According to Singapore Malay folklore, <i>Tanjong Pagar</i> ('Fenced Headland') </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">in Singapore</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">was where the boy ordered that a stockade of banana trees be erected to embed the 'swordfish' snouts when they charged ashore. For reward, the king, prompted by jealous ministers, had him done away with. In one story, the lad was loaded with chains and told to swim to the Indonesian island of Batam. He got as far as a reef called</span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Alang Berantai</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> ('Barrier of Chains') in the Main Strait of Singapore. Several place names derive from this story. When arrested, the boy was wounded in the scuffle and his blood gave colour to </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bukit Merah</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> ('Red Hill'). The final resting place of this too clever youth is near the navigational hazard of </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Batu Berhenti</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> ('Stopping Place'). Admiralty Sailing Directions advised 'violent eddies and overfalls are usually to be met with' and ships should 'keep on the northern side of the strait'. Small boats and even motor-powered launches have been lost here, so it is not surprising that when the water is clear fisherfolk have seen a '<i>dato' keramat</i> with crossed legs in meditation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In actual fact, garfish or needlefish, like all ray-finned beloniforms, are capable of making short jumps out of the water at up to 60 km/h (37 mph). Since they swim near the surface, they often leap over the decks of shallow boats rather than going around. This jumping activity is greatly excited by artificial light at night; night fisherman and divers in areas across the Pacific Ocean have been "attacked" by schools of suddenly excited fish diving across the water towards the light source at high speed. Their sharp beaks are capable of inflicting deep puncture wounds, often breaking off inside the victim in the process. For many traditional Pacific Islander communities, who primarily fish on reefs from low boats, these fish represent an even greater risk of injury than sharks.</span><br />
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Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-1544029913931020042014-06-22T13:35:00.002+01:002019-06-30T12:28:57.187+01:00The Battle of Prai, 1791<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i><br /><br />In 1791, the Sultan of Kedah attempted to seize Penang back from the East India Company and assembled a fleet of Illanoon prahus and a force of about 8,000-10,000 men in a series of forts at Prai. Below is an account of the ensuing battle, extracted from the subsequent dispatches of Francis Light to Lord Cornwallis, Governor of the Bengal Presidency.</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Our apparent enemies are called Lanoons and consist of 37 large prows (perahus) from the island of Magindano of the Philippines, as well as 25 others from various places. This fleet sailed from Siak, a river on Sumatra opposite Malacca to attack Perak. The Dutch cruisers luckily entered the river before them and gave alarm to the Dutch fort. AS the Dutch cruisers carry 9 and 12 pounders, the Prows were afraid to come in reach of their fire. They landed in hopes the Malays in Perak would join them but receiving no assistance, they suddenly went off for two or three days and then returned. The enemy burnt and destroyed all the houses about the river's mouth and carried off the people. They came to Larut and about eight leagues to the northward of Perak, they stayed near fifteen days taking a number of merchant Prows that were coming here; from Larut they came to the river Kurau about seven leagues from here. From the prows that were plundered, we learned that their intention was to come this way to the Settlement and this made me summon the 'Princess Augusta', a ketch mounting 12 three-pounders, to come to the protection of this station.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On the 26th they appeared on the opposite shore and some of them had been at the Prye River just opposite to us. They took away several fishermen. I armed the cruisers 'Dolphin' with two longboats and the 'Royal Admiral' to drive them away. The cruisers came up in the evening. The Prows formed a line at about six hundred yards distance; neither side made any attack. They sent a small boat to the Princess Augusta and said they were friends and going to Queda. After dusk, the Prows weighed anchor and ran off to the southward and in the morning they were out of sight. The cruisers had scarcely returned when the Prows retuned; before the cruisers could get up to them, again they were off. They were gone to the Boonting Islands near Queda and the cruisers were now watching their motions. The King of Queda had staked the mouth of the river and laid a chain across. At the same time he admitted the Lanoon into the Lolar River which is close to Boonting Island and under the pretence of fear had stopped all supplies from coming to the Settlement. The people in general are of the opinion that he has invited the Lanoon and promised them assistance of provisions, arms and ammunition, with the plunder of our place, which is not trifling. In various goods and merchandise, and in ships, this is not less than £300,000.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This formidable fleet failed to deliver the intended attack due to dissensions among the commanders of the fleet of Prows. However, on the 15th of March, the King of Queda began preparations for an attack; early in April, a large force of Malays, estimated by Captain Glass the commander of the Settlement garrison at 8,000-10,000 men, was concentrated at Prye on the mainland, while the fleet of Lanun Prows assembled in readiness to support of the Queda army. On the 19th, twenty of the Lanoon Prows quitted Qualla Mooda at the mouth of the Queda River and anchored under the Malay forts at Prye, which is on the opposite side of the harbour and within random shot of our forts. At the same time. they sent a letter to the Penggawa, who is chief of our Malays, desiring him to assemble all the Muslims in Penang to drive out the English. This letter the Penggawa immediately delivered to me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It being now apparent that the Malay force was bent on accomplishing our destruction and Captain Glass was of the opinion that it was necessary for the security of the settlement to attack the enemy immediately. Accordingly, we fitted out four gunboats with the 'Dolphin', 'Princess Augusta' and 'Valiant' (a vessel belonging to the King of Acheh) to attack the Prows. Captain Glass embarked with three companies of Sepoys on boats at 4.00 a.m. on the 12th instant and having landed undiscovered on the opposite shore, surprised at dawn of day the fort upon the point. He dispersed with little loss the large force that had been collected for the fort's defence, then proceeding to the second fort, where the enemy made some show of resistance. But the Sepoys mounted the ramparts and soon put them to flight. Both these forts were immediately burned.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Under the commands of Lieutenant Raban and Mylne, the gunboats at daylight advanced to the attack of the fleet of Prows. For a considerable space of time, the gunboats bore heavy fire from the whole fleet; at length our vessels, which were retarded for want of wind, were rowed in and both troops and gunboats returned fire and the enemy's fire was silenced by noon. The enemy's forces retired out of sight and by the night of the 12th the Lanoon Prows absconded. On the 14th, the Prows again appeared at the mouth of the Prye River in great numbers and I desired Captain Glass to prepare for a second attack. Having refitted the gunboats and mounted an 18-pounder cannon on a large punt, the boats and vessels attacked the prows a second time on the morning of the 16th and, after a short action, made them retreat with great loss, pursuing them to the distance of four miles. Our loss, considering the number of the enemy and the heavy cannonade they kept up, was very small. Troops on land and sea showed the greatest steadiness; the vessels that were able to approach near enough to the Prows kept a well-directed fire.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A messenger arrived from the King of Queda with a letter blaming the affair on the bad conduct of his officers at Prye, denying any intention of attacking this settlement, requesting that he may still be allowed 10,000 Spanish dollars per annum and everything be forgot. To this I have not yet returned an answer. In the meantime, the King of Queda's Prows remain blocked up by our vessels in the Prye River.<br /></span></div>
Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-55174963016950323522014-06-22T01:09:00.001+01:002014-06-22T01:15:35.948+01:00The Battle of Kota Lama, Perak, 1876<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b>Kota Lama, on the Perak River just north of Kuala Kangsar, was the scene of one of the last military engagements of the Perak War, on January 4th 1876. A force of 32 officers and men of the Naval Brigade, 100 Buffs, 40 Gurkhas, supported by 24-pounder rockets and 7-pounder guns, were ambushed and came to close quarters with a force of Malays and forced to retreat, losing two men speared to death. The account below is from "Perak and the Malays: 'Sarong' and 'Kris' " by Major Frederick McNair (1878).</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Among the principal events of the Perak War was the attack upon Kotah Lamah a place that had long been noted as a resort for the worst characters, and freebooters of the vilest description. In fact, Mr. Birch, during one of his visits was threatened by the people with loaded guns. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the arrival of the troops at Qualla Kungsa these people were not openly hostile. The acts of the head men of the place however at last called for interference; and as it became necessary to make an example of the village before the departure of the troops, it was determined to disarm the people. For this purpose a small force was sent up the river beyond Qualla Kungsa, and the demand for arms to be given up was acceded to on being made by Captain Speedy ; but armed men were seen rushing off, in two or three instances, to the jungle. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The military force made their way right through the campong and back without being opposed ; and after this General Boss and his party landed at the middle of the village, and were searching the various houses to see that they contained none but women and children, when, under cover of a brisk fire, well maintained from the jungle, they were assailed by a body of fifty or sixty spear-armed Malays, who had been hidden amongst the trees. These men suddenly rushed out, and nearly succeeded in surrounding the little party, which had to retire fighting as they went, the marines and sailors maintaining a most gallant front till the river was reached. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdlGDvkde3iFF4wn50DpllHhWX3j3VEWxAprmBlACKtOj1E5wXsS_BJIyAlEZdsYnXuR0jtmtHJe2uxDHu6fDN2Ac_OTmYHITBRvOeY1_SlvUw7bRB6y9deuHDp89DughJ64R4OsKu1PoH/s1600/HawkinsHLMajor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdlGDvkde3iFF4wn50DpllHhWX3j3VEWxAprmBlACKtOj1E5wXsS_BJIyAlEZdsYnXuR0jtmtHJe2uxDHu6fDN2Ac_OTmYHITBRvOeY1_SlvUw7bRB6y9deuHDp89DughJ64R4OsKu1PoH/s1600/HawkinsHLMajor.jpg" height="320" width="222" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Shortly before this several officers had gone in the direction of the river, and Major Hawkins is supposed to have been following them when he received a frightful spear wound, the blade passing right through his chest. A sailor named Sloper ran to his help, and shot two Malays who were running up to continue the attack, when Major Hawkins is reported to have exclaimed : "Save yourself, you can do me no good now." The officers who had gone on towards the river now returned, and tried to move him, but they were compelled in turn to fall back towards the river, Surgeon Townsend being the first to be assailed by three Malays with spears. One he shot with his revolver, but the man struck him down in falling, and his two companions dashed in to spear him, when they were bayoneted by a couple of the seamen. This engagement was successful, however, from the fact that, large quantity of arms were taken, including lelahs and a 12-pounder iron gun, which was spiked and thrown into the river. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Far from being disconcerted by their losses, the people of Kotah Lamah began soon after erecting stockades, and were guilty of so many lawless acts, that the Governor finally decided that a severe chastisement should be inflicted upon them, and for this purpose he consulted with General Colborne. The consequence was that a further expedition was arranged to be carried out against the Kotah Lamah people, the great body of whom had now gone farther up the river, to the two villages of Enggar and Prek; and this expedition was somewhat Lurried by an appeal for help which came from Eajah Muda Yusuf, whose people had been attacked by a body of the Kotah Lainah people, under Toh Sri Lela, their chief. This party was driven off by some of the Ghoorkhas, but unfortunately two of Rajah Yusuf's friendly Malays were killed and two wounded by mistake. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGUp_Xh-sifZeqsvWXVMqi6Qbm115mDprq29qFTrnr4V5YhMbkfX5D_kimH994I9L_VyW-gxYVWiPnm1WIB3ifsXMa1DR-a6kvMuqqVCyfr3fjSqFpAMiz1E5hdhWjydH4S28bDoGZfboa/s1600/Img_2954.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGUp_Xh-sifZeqsvWXVMqi6Qbm115mDprq29qFTrnr4V5YhMbkfX5D_kimH994I9L_VyW-gxYVWiPnm1WIB3ifsXMa1DR-a6kvMuqqVCyfr3fjSqFpAMiz1E5hdhWjydH4S28bDoGZfboa/s1600/Img_2954.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>The Enggor River, with the Perak River in the distance</i></b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next day our forces were sent up the river to Enggar, where the Malays opened fire from two or three </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">lelahs </i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(cannon)</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, but after a short and sharp return fire they were effectually driven out of their village. A portion of the force was then directed to bivouac in the village for the night, and then move forward and attack Prek, to which place Toh Sri Lela and his followers had fled. Here, the next day, the enemy were again driven out, making a precipitate retreat, a result which, when achieved, was followed by the return of our troops to Qualla Kungsa, the power of the Kotah Lamah chief being completely broken. </span><br />
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Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-91761266285188605812014-06-14T13:14:00.001+01:002014-06-14T13:14:59.522+01:00How naughty children were punished in 1849<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i><br />Extracted from the Hikayat Munshi Abdullah bin Abdul Kadir, 1849</i></b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5c71HrD9BlpFnHXvF3gIlOCSsjm9k_WJi_vy3zMrCJCYdx60F1E1P4WaFgvNoHeQekF1VW6IcIseAL6CEBqPgee0iBEU36uVuGiNTa2UcYRgFwMuXpQoXn8ImFL8y2i7Bwv4OqpJjm8F6/s1600/sengkang.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5c71HrD9BlpFnHXvF3gIlOCSsjm9k_WJi_vy3zMrCJCYdx60F1E1P4WaFgvNoHeQekF1VW6IcIseAL6CEBqPgee0iBEU36uVuGiNTa2UcYRgFwMuXpQoXn8ImFL8y2i7Bwv4OqpJjm8F6/s1600/sengkang.jpg" height="320" width="232" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All manner of instruments for inflicting punishment were kept in the school, different kinds for different offences. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was also the </span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">sengkang</b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, a punishment for children; who were always squabbling or absconding or thieving. The child was held with his right hand up to his left ear, and was told to stand up and sit down over and over again, as in the picture. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was a punishment for pupils who were lazy in their studies. Smoke was generated in a heap of dry coconut fibre and the child made to stand astride it. Sometimes dry pepper was put in the fire. The reek of the smoke was most irritating and caused a copious discharge from eyes and and nose. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgbgB0KWzUk2rqgO4ZEDCTkF9L5YkCoased6e64Gb73NAKfdEAVoK9kcm1btsk3nRjG8zIlivXFUA14U6qzOwemOIrylbRszpPG0UQgDccaIwqfTwzgxlhTrPUVgcdMax8_mBsQyrEVqg/s1600/apit+china.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgbgB0KWzUk2rqgO4ZEDCTkF9L5YkCoased6e64Gb73NAKfdEAVoK9kcm1btsk3nRjG8zIlivXFUA14U6qzOwemOIrylbRszpPG0UQgDccaIwqfTwzgxlhTrPUVgcdMax8_mBsQyrEVqg/s1600/apit+china.jpg" height="300" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was the cane and the apit china. The<b> apit china</b> was made from four pieces of rattan, each about six inches long, fitting together at a point at one end and threaded with a long piece of twine at the other, as in the picture. It was used for squeezing the fingers together as a punishment for children who stole or hit their fellow-pupils. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj2Or7HnltaVSYjG3GyZ904dxuG6B_6DhhhtRpvUFaK7UDcCKZkCGUSHmF1IIxtlA89HgBSF1xR-FadOFY2ykdMphFtpLM-f52WTp6tryuTm6_zf9zIx8V3b8cX2v7lqnz8ti26AuAV8fl/s1600/kayu+palat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj2Or7HnltaVSYjG3GyZ904dxuG6B_6DhhhtRpvUFaK7UDcCKZkCGUSHmF1IIxtlA89HgBSF1xR-FadOFY2ykdMphFtpLM-f52WTp6tryuTm6_zf9zIx8V3b8cX2v7lqnz8ti26AuAV8fl/s1600/kayu+palat.jpg" height="282" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another was called the<b> kayu palat</b>. It was made out of a round piece of wood about the width of a man's chest. Three holes were pierced in it, those on the right and left carrying the knotted ends of two pieces of cord which passed through the centre hole. It was used to punish children who ran away from school, or who climbed trees, or who gazed at their friends. The child's feet were put one into each ot the two loops of the cord which was twisted upwards and used to beat his soles. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ZaPozFmVMR_KmQhp8iFAOe4Hdny7cYBw1w7zLDjSIcOXJKMVb9D6HXcv8wSGxvFWN_PLNhs3DMo3GClyYgF-_Sf_WnNUo2lcA55gVdtUj69Ep1RrfuQBqCjrzEA_heokZQzEC7tOXRvG/s1600/rantai+besi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ZaPozFmVMR_KmQhp8iFAOe4Hdny7cYBw1w7zLDjSIcOXJKMVb9D6HXcv8wSGxvFWN_PLNhs3DMo3GClyYgF-_Sf_WnNUo2lcA55gVdtUj69Ep1RrfuQBqCjrzEA_heokZQzEC7tOXRvG/s1600/rantai+besi.jpg" height="320" width="241" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was also the<b> rantai besi</b>, a chain six feet or more in length, nailed to the end of a beam. The free end was fitted with a lock-pin and it was used to punish children who regularly played truant or were always quarrelling, or who did not listen to their parents' instructions and were late for school. The chain was locked round the offender's waist and he was made to carry the wooden beam on his shoulder round the school. Sometimes he was left wearing the chain and was not allowed home, his rice being sent to him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was a punishment for children who made mistakes in class. A twisted cord was fastened round the child's waist and tied to a post. The child was then told to go on with his writing until it was done. Not until it was finished was he released, his rice being sent to him by his parents. A punishment for children who were verv badly behaved, ones who fought, ran away or stole things was to <b>gantung </b>- hang them up by their two hands with their feet off the ground. Another punishment for those who misbehaved and stole was to place them face downwards on the floor and beat them. Another for children who told lies or used bad language or insulted people consisted in putting, pepper into their mouths.</span></div>
Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-40508637838163384812014-06-14T12:10:00.000+01:002014-06-14T20:15:48.332+01:00A Singapore Slave Market, 1824<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>Munshi Abdullah bin Abdul Kadir's account of a slave market in Singapore in 1824, extracted from "Hikayat Abdullah" </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One day during the season when the Bugis come to Singapore I saw fifty or sixty slaves male and female being led by a Bugis man round the town; among them were old and young, some carrying babies, some sick. They were herded along by a Bugis driver, holding in his hand a cane with which he struck at them here, there and everywhere. I went up to the man and said "Of what races are these people?" and he pointed them out to me saying "This is a Mangarai family. Here's a man from Mandar." He added "If you go out into the harbour there is a boat which arrived yesterday carrying three or four hundred slaves." Feigning interest I asked: "What price are these, and what price are those?". He replied: "These are forty dollars and those thirty dollars each." Then I continued on my way. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next morning early I went out in the harbour to have a look. When I reached the boat, I found it full of slaves, about three hundred men, women and children. Some of the women were heavy with child, that is to say their hour had almost come, and seeing them my heart was moved with compassion. Hundreds of Chinese came to make purchases while I stood watching this pitiful sight, seeing pregnant women gazing at me with tear-stained eyes. It brought tears to my eyes also when I thought "Who are their husbands?" and when Ì saw the cruel way in which these slaves were treated. They were being handed rice in coconut shells and water in bamboo scoops just as one gives food to dogs. When I went down inside I saw many women, some mere girls, some adolescent and other already grown up. Some were fair, other dark. They were all shades of colour. There were some who did not understand Malay, with frizzy hair and black faces. Only their teeth showed white. They had fat stomachs and thick lips. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The man who owned these slaves behaved like a beast, shameless and without fear of Allah. The younger girls hung round him while he behaved in a manner which it would be improper for me to describe in this book. For anyone who wished to buy these slave-girls he would open their clothing with all manner of gestures of which I am ashamed to write. The slave dealers behaved in the most savage manner, devoid of any spark of feeling, for I noticed that when the little children of the slaves cried they kicked them head over heels and struck their mothers with a cane, raising ugly weals on their bodies. To the young girls, who were in great demand, they gave a piece of cloth to wear, but they paid no attention to the aged and the sick. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The greatest iniquity of all that I noticed was the selling of a woman to one man and of her child to another. The mother wept and the child screamed and screamed when she saw her mother being taken away. My feelings were so outraged by this scene that, had I been someone in authority, I would most certainly have punished the wicked man responsible for it. Furthermore those in charge of male slaves tied them round the waist like monkeys, one to each rope, made fast to the side of the boat. They relieved nature where they stood and the smell on the boat made one hold one's nose. The majority of the female slaves were Balinese and Bugis. They were bought up by men of all races, Chinese, Indians, Malays, who took them to wife and whose numerous progeny are here to the present day. There were also Malay boats bringing slaves from Siak. A great number of them came from the hinter-land of Siak, from Menangkabau and from Pekan Baharu. They were all being herded into Singapore, driven along the road and beaten with canes like goats being taken to market. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That is how slaves were sold in those days both in Malacca and in Singapore, like a cattle market. I went back to the town and told Mr. Raffles all about what I had seen. He replied 'That business will not last much longer for the English are going to put a stop to it. It is a wicked thing and many people have gone and made reports about it to Parliament in England demanding that the slave trade shall cease", and he added "It is not only here that this sinful business goes on. To England too boatloads are brought from other countries, and thousands of the black men are turned into slaves. Then they are put up like goods for sale in all the countries of Europe. If we live to be old we may yet see all the slaves gain their freedom and become like ourselves.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>* * *</b></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Slavery in Singapore existed up for another 20 years after this. The 1833 Slavery Abolition Act of the Parliament of the United Kingdom abolished slavery throughout the British Empire, with the exceptions "of the Territories in the Possession of the East India Company," the "Island of Ceylon," and "the Island of Saint Helena"; the exceptions were eliminated in 1843. With the exception of the Straits Settlements, slavery continued to exist on the Malay Peninsula until the establishment of the Federated Malay States in the mid-1870s.</i></span></div>
Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-85683523818515851492014-06-13T01:40:00.003+01:002014-06-13T01:47:57.735+01:00Captain Noordeen of the Malay Regiment<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i><b>The very first Malay Regiment was not the regiment that was formed in Malaya in 1932 (later to become the modern-day Royal Malay Regiment). The British recruited local Malays in their wars with the kings of Ceylon and in 1801, these troops were formally admitted into the service of King George III as a regular British regiment of infantry on the line and called the Malay Regiment. In 1803, the Malay Regiment was defending a British garrison against the forces of the King of Kandy. The garrison was surrounded and finally surrendered to the Ceylonese after a bloody siege. Below is an account from James Cordiner's "Description of Ceylon" (1807) of what happened after and the loyalty of the Regiment's Malay Captain. </b></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Major Davie, unable effectually to resist the Kandyans, proposed an armistice, and a truce was agreed to, on condition that he should at once abandon Kandy, with all its military stores, to the Adigar, whilst the British troops, should march to Trincomalee. During this and the previous transactions, we cannot ascribe too much praise to the noble conduct of Captain Noordeen, the native commander of the troops of the Malay Regiment. Tempted with the most flattering offers by the native princes in the opposite army, he still maintained his integrity and declined them, and has left a noble instance of the faithfulness and fidelity of his nation. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Every thing was agreed to — Major Davie and his officers were separated from the troops. However,the latter were marched into a narrow defile, then taken out two by two, and, in cold blood, massacred by the Kandyans, each successive pair being led to a distance from the larger company, and then murdered. The entire body of helpless sick left in the garrison hospital soon after shared the same fate. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the day the British soldiers were massacred by the Kandyan troops, Noordeen and his bother Karaeng Sapinine were ordered to be carried to the presence of the King of Kandy, and told that he wished to induce them to become the leaders of his Malay subjects and to fight for him. As they came into the royal presence, they refused to prostrate themselves on the ground to the King in the customary manner but instead saluted him respectfully. Their temerity did not anger the king and he repeated his offer to the brothers to become 'princes' over the Malays who resided in his kingdom. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Both brothers refused the offer, explaining that they had taken an oath to the King of England and that acceptance of this offer would be treachery, saying that they would live and die in their master's service.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The King imprisoned them but, three weeks later, again requested them to join him, and again they refused. Following this, the king became very angry and ordered them to be executed. Their bodies were denied decent burials thrown onto the jungle to be devoured by wild beasts - an act that horrified and greatly offended his Malay subjects.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Such were the fearful effects of the unnecessary surrender of Major Davie, misconduct fortunately rare in the annals of British warfare. The darkest shades, however, are seldom without some bright spot to relieve them; and it is grateful to turn from the pusillanimity of one officer, (although a Briton,) to the devotion and heroism of another, and a Malay. We have already noticed the decision and fidelity of Captain Noordeen, in his fight with the Kandyans, as an enemy ; and as a captive, we shall find the same consistency persevered in with admirable strength of mind. </span></div>
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Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-40894582792021268772014-06-12T22:41:00.000+01:002014-06-12T22:41:21.576+01:00The Johore Military Force and the 1915 Singapore Mutiny<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Extracted from "The Johore Military Forces: The Oldest Army Of Malay Regulars In The Peninsula" by Tunku Shahriman Bin Tunku Sulaiman </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Journal Of The Malaysian Branch Of The Royal Asiatic Society, Vol. 77, No. 2 (287)(2004), Pp. 95-105</span></i></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Malaya was not much affected during the initial outbreak of the First World War as the countries surrounding her were either friendly to Britain or neutral. However, Sultan Ibrahim gave 'a most graceful proof of </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">his loyal goodwill' when he placed himself and the Johore Military Force (JMF) at the disposal of the General Officer Commanding of the Troops, Straits Settlements. The Officer Administering the Government, R. J. Wilkinson, accepted his offer and from 10 August 1914, 112 officers and men were utilized at Woodlands, Kranji, and Seletar in Singapore where it was noted the men had done their duties 'willingly, cheerfully and smartly'. However, the Sultan's decision to send his men to Singapore had huge repercussions on the JMF, as it was there that the soldiers faced one of their biggest challenges to date.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In February 1915, the Singapore-based Indian Regiment, the 5th Light Infantry, was under orders to leave for Hong Kong. The sepoys (Indian Muslim soldiers), however, heard rumours that they would instead be sent to Europe or Turkey to fight fellow Muslims. There was already some resentment among the sepoys against the British for being at war with the Ottoman Empire which sided with Germany. The sepoys' anger had reached boiling point on 15 February when 800 Indian Muslim soldiers decided to stage a mutiny against the British.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When the decision to send the sepoys to Hong Kong was made, the acting General Officer Commanding of the Troops, Straits Settlements, Colonel D.H. Ridout, and the Sultan arranged for a contingent of the JMF to assist in garrison duties in Singapore. A detachment of 190 officers and men under Captain Cullimore was to guard the Kallang and Thompson Road reservoirs, the Tanjong Katong and Labrador cable stations, and to watch the enclosure in which German prisoners were confined at the Tanglin Prisoner of War camp. Apart from 200 rounds of ammunition held by the troops guarding Tanglin Barracks, those stationed elsewhere were without protection. Ever the conscientious ruler, the Sultan had accompanied his men and stayed at the Barracks until dark to ensure every-thing was in order. Only when he was satisfied did he return to Johore Bahru.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Neither the Sultan nor his men had any inkling of the mayhem they were to face on 15 February, a public holiday in celebration of the Chinese New Year festivities. The government perceived no signs of unrest or disloyalty among the 5th Light Infantry and, in fact, got the 'most positive assurances as to the loyalty of the Regiment'. All changed at 3 pm, however, when their officers were caught off guard after having a lie off after tiffin. A shot was fired at the Quarter Guard, signalling the start of the Sepoy Mutiny. Among the first victims were the regiment's own officers, Lieutenant H. S. Elliot and Captain M, F. A. Mclean.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From Alexandra Barracks, a party of 100 mutineers advanced towards the Tanglin detention camp with the intention of releasing the German prisoners. The guards at the Tanglin Barracks, consisting of the Volunteers under Second Lieutenant Montgomerie and the JMF, were unprepared for the uprising, which was to account for the high number of casualties, including Captain Cullimore. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With almost no ammunition, the guards were forced to retreat to 'Woodneuk', the Singapore residence of the Sultan of Johore.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When the Sultan was alerted of the mutiny, he immediately left for Singapore with 150 of his troops and volunteers, but speedily returned to Johore Bahru when he heard that the mutineers had crossed over to his state. Despite their limitations, the Johore troops were successful in arresting and forcing the surrender of the mutineers both in Johore and Singapore. By 20 February, the Johore Forces and volunteers had captured 180 men, as well as taken 81 rifles, 75 bayonets, and 3,000 cartridges. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Sultan himself was responsible for the surrender of four mutineers in Kulai when he was told by a Tamil labourer of the odd sight of an Indian clad in Chinese clothing. With just two other men, Major Daud and an Afghan sergeant, he persuaded four mutineers armed with rifles and bayonets to surrender. They were taken to Johore Bahru in the Sultan's own car. The rebellion ended after ten days with approximately 40 people killed. Eventually, 36 sepoys were publicly executed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The loyalty and bravery of the Johore troops were recognized when the Governor of Singapore, Sir Arthur Young, thanked them and the Sultan. Among other things, he said: 'Your Highness, as the representative of His Majesty the King, I wish to express to you my warmest thanks for the manner, the practical manner, in which you have shown your firm loyalty to the king and I thank you on behalf of the colony for the good work you have done for the Colony.</span></div>
Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-27090248565444993522014-05-12T01:30:00.002+01:002014-05-12T01:32:44.758+01:00"A splendid thing to belong to such an Empire"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i><br />An account by the British Resident at Pahang, Hugh Clifford, of his conversations with Sultan Idris of Perak during the latter's visit to London for the coronation of King Edward VII in 1902, with some startling insights on how the Sultan saw his role in the British Empire.</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The then Sultan of Perak had paid a long visit to England some eighteen months earlier and London wrought upon him no new impression. A man of fifty-three years of age, he had passed almost exactly half his life under Malay rule, and half under the new regime inaugurated by Great Britain. A man with eyes wherewith to see and a mind wherewith to judge, compare and think, he was in his day probably the most enlightened rulers of the Native States of the East, and a convinced apostle of British rule. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He had seen in his own time his country pass from a mere wilderness of forest, threaded sparsely by sorry footpaths, into a land surprisingly wealthy and prosperous , over the face of which roads and railways run criss-cross like the meshes of a net. He had seen lawlessness, brigandage, rapine and constant internecine strife vanish and be replaced by a peacefulness unequalled in Piccadilly. He had seen the spear and the <i>kris</i>, which once ruled his world, laid aside in the glass cases of museums, or brought out only on State occasions to deck courtly ceremonials. Moreover, he had seen his own ancestral lands, which of old lay fallow under dense jungle, opened up and made to produce rich revenues; blackest ignorance replaced by education; lack of sanitation by the wise respect for the laws of hygiene; and dire poverty by wealth and comfort. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Though the sentimentalist may mourn the disappearance of much that was picturesque, of much that was attractive, yet these be wonderful changes for any man to have witnessed in the space of half a lifetime, still more to have had a hand in bringing to pass; and without disparaging the wisdom and self-devotion of his European advisers, it must be admitted that Perak owes a large share of its prosperity to the personal efforts of perhaps the greatest of the Sultans who have ever ruled over it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But the thing that chiefly fired the Sultan's imagination was no one of the revolutions in fact and ideas to which I have alluded, for in all his talks with me it was not upon any of them that he insisted. The cardinal point which he gripped and which obviously filled him with pride, was the contrast between his own position in the world and that of the 27 members of his House who in unbroken line have ruled over his country in the past. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They, he would say, were frogs beneath an inverted coconut shell who dreamed not that there was any world beyond the narrow limits in which they were pent. Shut off from the rest of mankind, living in the hearts of their vast forests, they ruled barbarously over a barbarous people. They were feared by their subjects above the Tiger and, with ample reason, they were loved less than he; they wrought much evil, and no good, to man or beast; and withal they were squalid folk, contented with a paltry state, living ignobly in a world that did not know the insignificant fact of their existence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"It is wonderful thing," he said to me as we drove off the Horse Guards' Parade after the great Colonial Review. "These be but samples of the King's soldiers in distant lands. I saw our own people - a mere dozen or so - yet I know for how many that dozen stands. Mine is but a tiny country, while others that have sent men here today are vast. What a tremendous host do those whom we have seen this morning represent! Never since Allah first made the world hath there been so mighty a gathering! And this host is the host of my King!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"It is a splendid thing to think that one belongs to such an Empire - that one is part of it! None of my forebears, stowed away in their forests, enjoyed the greatness that is mine, in that I am myself a portion of something so very great!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That speech came from his heart, was no mere oriental hyperbole, for he spoke to me as friend to friend, and was not sparing of his criticisms when occasion arose. Observing all things with keen intelligence, criticising all that struck him as unworthy, praising everything that appealed to him as rightly belonging to the great Empire of which he felt himself to be a member, pleased by the kindness and courtesy extended to him, and looking forward with intense interest to the tremendous ceremony which he had come so far to witness, the Sultan of Perak passed the days of his visit until that fateful Tuesday arrived upon which it was announced that King Edward was compelled to submit to an immediate operation for appendicitis and that His Majesty's Coronation was indefinitely postponed. The blow was to us all a heavy one but from the Sultan there came no word concerning his personal disappointment.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"It is the will of Allah," he said simply. "Even our King is His servant to do with what He will; and I, who am the servant of the King, can do little to aid him in his extremity. But that little I will do. Today and tomorrow - until the danger to the King be passed - I go not forth from my dwelling. I will <i>sembahyang hajat</i> - recite prayers for my Intenton of the King's safety. To him my service is due, for to him I owe - everything."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And there I will leave him, clad simply in cotton garments, kneeling and prostrating himself upon his prayer carpet, making earnest supplications to the King of kings for the life of the ruler whose servants, in his name, have brought a malayan people out of the Land of Darkness and out of the House of Bondage. Surely there is hope for a race, let the pessimists say what they will, whose influence wins the love, admiration, confidence and ready support of such men as this - men with the clean mind, the keen intelligence and the kind heart of Sultan Idris of Perak - and makes of them loyal and enthusiastic Imperialists.</span><br />
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Extracted from 'Bushwhacking: and other Asiatic tales and memories' by </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sir Hugh Charles Clifford (1929. London: </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Harper & Brothers)</span></i></b></div>
Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-26557796874836558772014-05-11T19:35:00.005+01:002022-08-08T06:00:34.679+01:00Nakhoda Orlong<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif"><b><i><br />An abridged account by Frank Swettenham of the first failed British attack on Maharaja Lela's stronghold at Pasir Salak on December 7th, 1875, and the courage and loyalty of two Malay scouts who took part in that raid.</i></b></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiACIPEqZBewkJlpkbcjdSib3YDPGHfeM8NcY6sQNWIvjMtsWxHvctRmB_D5pMD9CiAvuaiCCg6JPIZpqSGSvhrARLpqeOufpDQuiULUH1BXSAZVKHaIQAixHPZ-Mls8T_b--2L4KSgKiBidYMFEuMn9rs0yK4xbFwkfdQWKQ9Ve1U9-AZ7C_uaDwRZpA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="457" data-original-width="601" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiACIPEqZBewkJlpkbcjdSib3YDPGHfeM8NcY6sQNWIvjMtsWxHvctRmB_D5pMD9CiAvuaiCCg6JPIZpqSGSvhrARLpqeOufpDQuiULUH1BXSAZVKHaIQAixHPZ-Mls8T_b--2L4KSgKiBidYMFEuMn9rs0yK4xbFwkfdQWKQ9Ve1U9-AZ7C_uaDwRZpA=w475-h360" width="475" /></a></div><br /></div><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">On the day after my arrival at Bandar Bharu, Captain Innes, R.E., came from Penang accompanied by two officers and 60 men of the First Battalion of H.M. loth Regiment, together with the Superintendent of the Penang Police H. Plunket and twenty native constables armed with rifles. When the news of Mr. Birch's murder reached that place, the nearest British Settlement, Captain Innes was sent with a force to take charge of the Residency. It is not my intention to detail the subsequent events except in so far as is necessary for a right understanding of an incident connected with the </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">death of a man called Nakodah Orlong, a Sumatran Malay. </span><br />
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<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">With the force at our disposal, which included Lieut. Abbott, R.N., his four bluejackets, and about fifty so-called Sikhs, it was determined to attack Pasir Salak before the Maharaja Lela had time to collect a large following. An immediate advance was also considered advisable to prevent the number of our enemies being increased by what might look like our indecision. The distance from Bandar Bharu to Pasir Salak was five miles, every yard of it covered with vegetation of some sort, the only road a narrow path by the river-bank; moreover, Pasir Salak was not on our side of the river. It was, therefore, settled that we should start at daylight the next morning, the 7th November, in boats, that we should pole up stream two miles and walk the rest.</span><br />
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<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">All that was wanted was a body of scouts to feel the way, and I undertook to find these. There were Raja Mahmud and his two followers, but it was hard to say where any other trustworthy Malays could be got at such short notice. Late that evening, </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">however, Nakodah Orlong, whom I knew well, came in, and when I asked him if he would join us he at once consented, and said he could bring fourteen of his own men with him. That made us twenty, and was enough for the purpose.</span><br />
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<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">We were up at 4.30 A.M. on the 7th, got all the men into boats, and made a start by 7.30 A.M. The river journey was accomplished without incident, a landing was effected, and the party moved off. The scouts were in front, followed at an interval by half the detachment of the lOth Captain Innes and the sailors with a rocket-tube came next, then the Sikhs and Penang Police under Mr. Plunket, and last of all the remainder of the 10th Regiment. We began the march gaily enough, not expecting to meet with any resistance till near Pasir Salak.</span><br />
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<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">After walking a mile or so, always close by the river-bank, we came to a large field of Indian corn. The plants were eight or ten feet high, and so thick and close that it was impossible to see more than three or four yards in any direction; the ground between the corn-stalks was planted with hill-padi, and that was a couple of feet in height. On entering this field we opened out to cover as large a front as possible, and, when half way through the corn, passed a gigantic fig-tree growing on the edge of the river bank. On my right was Nakodah Orlong, and to the right of him one of his men called Alang; on my left was Raja Mahmud and the rest of the scouts. </span><br />
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<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">We had been walking fast, and of the rest of the force we could see and hear nothing. We were talking and laughing (being still a long way from Pasir Salak) when suddenly we came to the end of the cover, for the last few feet of the </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">corn had been cut down. At this moment Nakodah Orlong said, "There they are," and the words were hardly out of his mouth when we were greeted by a volley from the enemy concealed behind a stockade not a dozen yards in front of us.</span><br />
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<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Nakodah Orlong fell without uttering another sound, and, the enemy maintaining a brisk fire, our position was so uncomfortable that my own inclination was unhesitatingly to get out of the way. Probably my intention was apparent, for Raja Mahmud said, "Stand fast and shoot." I was obliged to him and followed his advice, but as the Manila boy and I were the only possessors of shooting-weapons, and the enemy were hidden behind a rampart of logs and banana-stems, while we had no shelter whatever, our continued existence was due simply to their want of skill. The absurdity of the situation was apparent, and its unpleasantness was heightened by the opening of a brisk fusillade in our rear. That decided us and we stepped back under cover, and then moved to the sheltering trunk of the fig-tree.</span><br />
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<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Arrived there we found that besides Nakodah Orlong (about whose fate there was no doubt, for he fell within a </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">yard of me), Alang was the only one missing. He was the last man on the right, and, as no one had seen him, we concluded that he also had been killed. It was at once proposed that we should go back and secure the bodies, but our own people keeping up a merciless discharge in rear, and the enemy doing their best in front, we were caught between two fires, and </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">thought it best to try and stop our friends at any rate from shooting us. We shouted, but that, of course, was no use, no </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">one could either see or hear us. Twice again during the day we were placed in the same uncomfortable position, and a man kneeling behind me was shot in the back of his thigh. Once also the Sikhs made a determined attack on the men with me as we were trying to outflank the Malays, and in spite of our shouts only desisted when almost within touch of us.</span><br />
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<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">The enemy's stockade was a long rampart impenetrable to bullets; it was faced by a deep and wide ditch cut at right angles to the river, with one end on the bank and the other in high jungle. The work was backed by a thick plantation of bananas, </span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">affording perfect cover, and those defending it were commanded by the Maharaja Lela in person, and his father-in-law Pandak Indut, foremost of Mr. Birch's murderers. Our rockets, an old pattern, were ineffective, and as they all went over the top of the stockade were greeted by the jeers of the enemy. We were close enough to hear even what they said in the intervals between the firing. </span><br />
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<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Our force was then reduced to the officers, the men of the 10th, bluejackets, and Malay scouts - the Sikhs and Penang police had retired<i> en masse</i> at an even earlier hour, and explained afterwards, with much force, that it was not for this kind of work that they had engaged. About 1 PM, Captain Innes gave the order to charge the stockade. That was done, but without guns to clear the way it was a hopeless task. We could not get across the ditch in the face of an unseen, protected enemy, while we were entirely at their mercy. We had to retire with the loss of Captain Innes killed, both the officers of the loth (Lieutenants Booth and Elliott) severely wounded, and other casualties. If men with weapons of precision and the knowledge to handle them had held the work, none of our party ought to have escaped. But with Malays you can take liberties; their weapons take some time to load, but they are deadly enough at a few yards distance. </span><br />
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<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Though we had gained nothing by rushing the place, the enemy did not like that style of attack and retired, only we did not know it then. We were engaged in counting the cost, picking up the wounded and organising an orderly retreat, for it was late, we had some miles to go, and we expected the Malays would leave their shelter and come after us. We had no surgeon, no stretchers, and the return journey was one that is not pleasant to recall. We reached our boats at 3 P.M., and the Residency a quarter of an hour later. </span><br />
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<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">For some time I was very busy trying to attend to the wounded, but then my Malay friends asked me for a boat, as they said they must go and fetch Nakodah Orlong's body, and see what had become of Alang. A British soldier was also missing. I gave the boat and they started. About 8 P.M. they returned with Alang and the body of his chief; they had met the lad swimming down the river with his master's body.</span><br />
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<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">When Nakodah Orlong fell, and the rest of us got away behind the great tree, this boy stayed by the dead man, and as he was right in the line of the thickest cross-fire, Alang pulled the body as close to the bank as he could, and there remained from morning till evening, making no sign, but simply declining to abandon the corpse. A man even came out from the stockade and attacked him with a kris, wounding him on the hand, but Alang beat him off. After the final charge, when our people passed close by him, it was he who saw the Malays retire, and he allowed us all to go away and leave him without giving any indication of his whereabouts. Then, the coast being clear, unable to carry the body so great a distance, he dragged it into the river and was swimming down stream with it when the boat met him.</span><br />
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<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">I went down to the boat to see Nakodah Orlong; he looked just as I had seen him last, except that his hair and clothes were drenched with water and there was a great hole in the centre of his forehead, marking, no doubt, the track of an iron bullet from a swivel-gun. Of that, however, he could never have been conscious, nor yet of the devotion of the man whose life had been in extremest peril throughout a long day to guard his chiefs dead body, without thought of gain or praise, only determined that none but loving hands should be laid upon the voiceless, pulseless clay he once called master.</span><br />
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<span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Given a glorious sunny day and a good cause, the idea of ending existence suddenly and painlessly in the pride of life and in face of the foe has its attractions, and robs the inevitable of its sting. But who can hope that after his death there will be one other being whose love is great enough to offer his own life a willing sacrifice to guard the thing that was to-day a friend and to-morrow will be corruption?</span><br />
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<b><i><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Extracted from the chapter "Nakhoda Orlong" in Sir Frank Swettenham's "Malay Sketches" (1895, London: John Lane). "</span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Malay Sketches" is available for download at my <a href="http://www.sabrizain.org/malaya/library/index2.html" target="_blank">Sejarah Melayu Library</a>.</span></i></b><br />
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Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-51379444378042254892014-05-10T14:19:00.003+01:002014-05-11T19:44:16.729+01:00Of Malay Savages<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i><br />Frank Swettenham, the first Resident-General of the Federated Malay States, writes about when he confronted an American lady's racism</i></b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1vMKMl82iCmErDTr_Mc3gKeC6RCq8ZalrrrT-suceGeM3gf_-3e1X1JjZZAStJORTZS7A6VBL-P2PhJa0S0_f-OPIYykuAEqRmtsMHIWbLwXmiMwqWwXjl_-pYD2Tc8AhmDQ7GZzECZwa/s1600/savages.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1vMKMl82iCmErDTr_Mc3gKeC6RCq8ZalrrrT-suceGeM3gf_-3e1X1JjZZAStJORTZS7A6VBL-P2PhJa0S0_f-OPIYykuAEqRmtsMHIWbLwXmiMwqWwXjl_-pYD2Tc8AhmDQ7GZzECZwa/s1600/savages.jpg" height="363" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One night, in the early months of this year, I sat at dinner next to a comparatively young married woman, of the type that is superlatively blonde in colour and somewhat over-ample in figure. She was indifferently dressed, not very well informed, but apparently anxious, by dint of much questioning, to improve her knowledge where possible. She was, I believe, a journalist. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some one must have told her that I had been in the East, and she, like most stay-at-home people, evidently thought that those who go beyond the shores of England can only be interested in, or have an acquaintance with, the foreign country wherein they have sojourned. Therefore the lady fired at me a volley of questions, about the manners and habits of the Malay people, whom she always referred to as "savages". </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I ventured to say that she must have a mistaken, or at any rate incomplete, knowledge of the race to speak of Malays as savages, but she assured me that people who were black, and not Christians, could only be as she described them. I declined to accept that definition, and added that Malays are not black. I fancy she did not believe me; but she said it did not matter, as they were not white and wore no clothes. I am afraid I began to be almost irritated, for the long waits between the courses deprived me of all shelter from the rain of questions and inconsequent remarks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At last, I said, "It may surprise you to hear that these savages would think, if they saw you now, that you are very insufficiently clad;" and I added, to try and take the edge off a speech that I felt was inexcusably rude, "they consider the ordinary costume of white men so immodest as to be almost indecent." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Indeed," said the lady, who only seemed to hear the last statement, "I have often thought so too, but I am surprised that savages, for I must call them savages, should mind about such things." It was hopeless, and I asked how soon the great American people might be expected to send a force to occupy London. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have just been reminded of this conversation. A few days ago, I wrote to a friend of mine, a Malay Sultan, whom I have not seen for some months, a letter inquiring how he was, and saying I hoped soon to be able to visit him. Now comes his answer; and you, who are in sympathy with the East, will be able to appreciate the missive of this truculent savage. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the cover there were three enclosures: a formal letter of extreme politeness, written by a scribe, the Arabic characters formed as precisely and clearly as though they had been printed. Secondly, a letter written in my friend's own hand, also in the Arabic character, but the handwriting is very difficult to decipher. And thirdly there is another paper, headed "Hidden Secrets" written also in the Sultan's own hand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The following is a translation of the beginning of the second letter. At the top of the first page is written, "Our friendship is sealed in the inmost recesses of my heart." Then this: " I send this letter to my honoured and renowned friend" (here follow my name, designation, and some conventional compliments). The letter then continues: "You, my dear friend, are never out of my thoughts, and they are always wishing you well. I hear that you are coming to see me, and for that reason my heart is exceedingly glad, as though the moon had fallen into my lap, or I had been given a cluster of flowers grown in the garden called Benjerdna Sri, wide-opening under the influence of the sun's warm rays."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"May God the Most Mighty hasten our meeting, so that I may assuage the thirst of longing in the happy realisation of my affectionate and changeless regard. At the moment of writing, by God's grace, and thanks to your prayers, I and my family are in good health, and this district is in the enjoyment of peace ; but the river is in flood, and has risen so high that I fear for the safety of the bridge." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is more, but what I have quoted is enough to show you the style. When this savage has turned from his savagery, he will no doubt write "Dear sir," and "Yours truly"; his correspondence will be type-written, in English, and the flaxen-haired lady will remark with approval that the writer is a businessman and a Christian, and hardly black at all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>Extracted from the chapter "West and East" in Sir Frank Swettenham's "Unaddressed Letters" (1898, London: John Lane). </i></b></span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"Unaddressed Letters" is available for download at my <a href="http://www.sabrizain.org/malaya/library/index2.html" target="_blank">Sejarah Melayu Library</a>.</i></b></div>
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Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-35574150889247655622014-05-06T01:30:00.000+01:002014-05-06T01:40:58.894+01:00Malaya's first Victoria Cross<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYyxOEhk_MOgAxd3b-zM88_rpKx-wel86v7FtwEQBumr918ilpU8KTFF3PFRsF3BDBxsCPsv1-dSYNpsRdXtJtL2p-2fPFQtyaCyWGdgFQmiCnn_syzoLv91rFdbXPV4OYRzt376gGnocU/s1600/VC.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYyxOEhk_MOgAxd3b-zM88_rpKx-wel86v7FtwEQBumr918ilpU8KTFF3PFRsF3BDBxsCPsv1-dSYNpsRdXtJtL2p-2fPFQtyaCyWGdgFQmiCnn_syzoLv91rFdbXPV4OYRzt376gGnocU/s1600/VC.png" height="320" width="222" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYyxOEhk_MOgAxd3b-zM88_rpKx-wel86v7FtwEQBumr918ilpU8KTFF3PFRsF3BDBxsCPsv1-dSYNpsRdXtJtL2p-2fPFQtyaCyWGdgFQmiCnn_syzoLv91rFdbXPV4OYRzt376gGnocU/s1600/VC.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYyxOEhk_MOgAxd3b-zM88_rpKx-wel86v7FtwEQBumr918ilpU8KTFF3PFRsF3BDBxsCPsv1-dSYNpsRdXtJtL2p-2fPFQtyaCyWGdgFQmiCnn_syzoLv91rFdbXPV4OYRzt376gGnocU/s1600/VC.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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<i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Victoria Cross is the highest military decoration awarded for valour "in the face of the enemy" to members of the armed forces of the British Empire territories, taking precedence over all other orders, decorations and medals. The first Victoria Cross awarded for action in Malaya was to Captain George Nicholas Channer. Though the citation for the award states that it was "for his gallant conduct during the recent operations against the Malays in Perak", the engagement in question was actually against the Malays in the Sungai Ujong War and not the Perak War. </i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>When the Dato' Kelana of Sungai Ujong (the area that is today known as Seremban) accepted a British Resident and agreed to it being a protected British state, Sungai Ujong was attacked by the Yam Tuan Antah of Seri Menanti. After a series of skirmishes, the Malays occupied a fortified position on the Bukit Putus pass. It was at this battle that Channer won his VC and below is the citation describing what occurred.</i></span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From the War Office, April 12, 1876</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Queen has been graciously pleased to signify Her intention to confer the decoration of the Victoria Cross on the undermentioned Officer, whose claim to the same gas been submitted for Her Majesty's approval, for his gallant conduct during the recent operations against the Malays in Perak, as recorded against his name, viz.:-</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Corps</b>: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bengal Staff Corps</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Rank and Name:</b> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Captain (now Brevet-Major) George Nicholas Channer</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Act of Bravery for which recommended:</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For having, with the greatest gallantry, been the first to jump into the Enemy's stockade, to which he had been dispatched with a small party of the 1st Ghoorkha Light Infantry on the afternoon of the 20th December, 1875, by the officer commanding the Malacca Column, to procure intelligence as to its strength, position, &c.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Major Channer got completely in rear of the Enemy's position, and finding himself so close that he could hear the voices of the men inside, who were cooking at the time, and keeping no lookout, he beckoned to his men and the whole party stole quietly forward to within a few paces of the stockade.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On jumping in, he shot the first man dead with his revolver, and his party then came up and entered the stockade, which was of a most formidable nature, surrounded by a bamboo palisade; about seven yards within was a log-house, loop-holed, with two narrow entrances, and trees laid latitudinally, to the thickness of two feet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Officer commanding reports that if Major Channer, by his foresight, coolness and intrepidity, had not taken this stockade, a great loss of life must have occurred, as from the fact of his being unable to bring guns to bear on it, from the steepness of the hill, and the density of the jungle, it must have been taken at the point of the bayonet.</span><br />
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Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-80156844144143243672014-04-26T15:40:00.000+01:002014-04-26T15:44:28.075+01:00The Day Hang Tuah Walked Through My Door<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>This is a short story by Adlan Benan Omar - a fellow lover of history and a dear friend who died on Thursday, 24 January 2008. He was only 35. Those of you who know him will remember Ben's almost encyclopaedic knowledge of Malay history</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>There can perhaps be no fitting tribute to this remarkable young man, and no better way to remember him, than to reproduce this short story by Ben, which not only highlights the passion that he had for Malay history, but also shows a bright, intelligent mind that was a breath of fresh air and a shining light in contemporary Malay culture.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I continue to remember Ben with great fondness</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>The Day Hang Tuah Walked Through My Door </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>by Adlan Benan Omar (1973-2008)</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Everyone knows who Hang Tuah is. Everyone knows that he was a great warrior, that he was loyal to his king, that he fought and defeated Hang Jebat in a gruelling duel. But I knew more about Hang Tuah than anyone else. No... I didn't read more than anyone else (how much more could a twelve-year-old have read anyway?). I knew more about Hang Tuah because he came to live with us a few months ago. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes, you heard me right. Hang Tuah did come to live with me and my family. Abah took him home one day. He had found the old man walking around the local playground one evening, while he was out jogging. It was getting dark and the old man had no place to go, so we took him in. Mak was not too happy about that, she thought the old man looked crooked. He was dirty and he didn't wear shoes. Mak said that people might think our family has gone weird. Abah just laughed. "Kasihan ...dia orang tua," he said. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My friends didn't believe me at first. They thought I was dreaming, or making things up, or just plain lying. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Azraai said that the old man was an alien from Mars and not Hang Tuah. Eqhwan laughed at me and said that either I or the old man must be mad. Anuar said that if Hang Tuah was still alive I wouldn't be able to understand what he said because he spoke classic Malay like in the hikayats. Hilmi (our local school's smart alec) tried to explain to me that the Melaka Empire was no more and that Hang Tuah was just a legend. He said that if Hang Tuah was still alive he would be at least five and a half centuries old and the latest edition of the Guinness Book of World Records stated that the oldest man in the world lived only to 120 years. Only Farid sympathised with me... and that was because he had an imaginary friend whom he always took along to play marbles with us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I really didn't care what they said. I knew that old man was Hang Tuah. I know because I asked him myself. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The morning after we took the old man in, Mak asked me to wake him up for breakfast. I went to the spare room and found that he was already awake. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with a blue batik bundle on his lap. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Jemput makan, Tok," I said, politely. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Terima kasih," he said. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was curious, so I asked, "Apa dalam buntil tu Tok?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Barang Tok... barang orang miskin," he replied. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then he opened it up slowly. I saw him fiddle for something, then he took out a long keris with an ivory sheath. It was at least a foot long and studded with jewels. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Ini keris Taming Sari," said the old man. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I snickered, "He! He! He!". I thought the old man was joking. Everyone knew that Taming Sari belonged to Hang Tuah and that it must have disappeared with its master. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The old man looked up at me. His eyes stared into mine. I felt a little queasy at that. His expression changed, he began to look angry. Suddenly his eyes drooped and he looked more hurt than angry. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Kenapa cucu gelak?" he asked. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Tak ada kenapa," I answered, a little frightened. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Tok tahu, cucu ingat Tok bergurau." I kept quiet. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He began again, "Inilah keris Taming Sari yang sebenar. Ini keris Tok sendiri." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Kalau begitu Tok ni tentulah..." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Hang Tuah," he interjected, "nama Tok ialah Hang Tuah." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Tapi Hang Tuah sudah mati." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He laughed, "Tidak, Tok belum mati. Tapi Tok sudah tua..." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Berapa umur Tok?" I questioned. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"540 tabun." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mak didn't really like Tok Tuah. But she didn't say anything when he just stayed on and on in the house. She didn't say a word when Abah and I took him to Hankyu Jaya to get some new clothes. She just kept quiet when Tok Tuah joined us to watch TV in the living room after dinner. I told her (and Abah) that the old man said that his name was Hang Tuah. She wrinkled her face (and Abah just laughed). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was a Wednesday night and RTM had a slot then called "Teater P. Ramlee". It so happened that they were showing Phani Majumdar's "Hang Tuah". P. Ramlee, so young and thin, acted as the hero and the late Haji Mahadi was Sultan Mansor Shah. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When Jebat got killed, Tok Tuah pipped in, "Tidak langsung macam tu..." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Abah stared at Tok Tuah. Mak stared at Tok Tuah. I too, stared at Tok Tuah. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Aku sudah tua masa tu, Jebat muda lagi. Jebat kuat. Dia sepak aku hingga aku tertiarap, kemudian aku berguling. Aku himpit dia. Aku kata sama dia 'baik sajalah kau mengalah'. Apa gunanya kita dua bersaudara bergaduh?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mak started to look worried again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Jebat tak mati." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Abah looked surprised. He said, "Habis tu, apa jadi pada dia?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tok Tuah said, "Aku tak mahu Sultan bunuh dia. Aku tahu Sultan zalim. Jadi, aku sorokkan dia di Ulu Melaka. Macam Tun Perak sorokkan aku masa aku difitnahkan. Lepas Melaka kalah dengan Portugis, Jebat ikut aku merantau." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I said, "Bila Jebat mati?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tok Tuah laughed, "Jebat belum mati. Baru tahun lepas aku jumpa dia. Dia meniaga di Kedah." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Meniaga?" I said. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Ya, Jebat duduk di Kulim. Dia meniaga kereta. Apa tu? Kereta 'second-hand' kata orang. Proton, Honda dan Nissan. Laku jualannya. Banyak orang beli." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One day, I took Tok Tuah on a walk around KL. He got bored just sitting in our small bungalow in Bukit Bandar Raya. So after school, we took the mini-bus to Central Market. Tok Tuah really enjoyed the walk. "Banyaknya orang..." he wondered. We ate at McDonald's. He didn't like the cheeseburger (well, he didn't like the cheese, though he loved the burger itself). After lunch, we went to Muzium Negara. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I showed him the frieze of a young Hang Tuah which was sculpted by an Englishwoman in the 1950s. It showed a handsome Hang Tuah in 'Baju Melayu' and 'samping'. He was holding Taming Sari in his hand. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Siapa tu," Tok Tuah asked. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Itu Tok-lah. ltulah orang putih gambarkan sebagai Hang Tuah. Hensem, kan?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tok Tuah chuckled, "Apa tulisan atas tu?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Ta' Melayu Hilang di-Dunia. Eh, takkan Tok tak ingat? Itu kan Tok yang cakap dulu?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He kept quiet. Slowly he mumbled, "Ta' Melayu Hilang di-Dunia? Tak ingat pun." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Suddenly, he started, "Oh! Bukannya Ta' Melayu Hilang di-Dunia. Silap tu. Tok tak pernah cakap macam tu..." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Habis tu?" I asked. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Masa tu Tok tengah pergi masjid untuk sembahyang Maghrib. Isteri Tok ikut sekali. Dia tengah ambil air sembahyang di tepi perigi, kemudian kakinya tergelincir. Dia terjatuh masuk. Orang ramal pun menjerit-jerit sebab perigi itu dalam. Apa lagi, Tok pun terjunlah untuk </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">selamatkan dia. Isteri Tok bukan sebarang orang, namanya Tun Sa'odah, anak Bendahara Tun Perak." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Kemudian?" I urged. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Bila Tok bawak dia naik, Temenggung Tun Mutahir ketawa. Katanya, Tok sayang betul pada isteri Tok. Tok pun jawab, "Mestilah... Ta' Isteriku Hilang di-Telaga. Jadi, mungkin orang silap dengar...!" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tok Tuah stayed with our family for more than six months. He stayed at home in the first few weeks but he felt guilty not doing anything to contribute. So, one morning, he followed Abah to work. Abah was manager of a factory in Sungai Buluh which made video tapes and CDs. They needed a new 'jaga' or watchman. Tok Tuah got the job. Abah said, "Who better to guard us than the great Malay admiral Hang Tuah?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The workers got along well with him. Amin, Abah's driver, said that Tok Tuah told them lots of funny jokes about Sultan Mansor of Melaka and his fifteen wives. Tok Tuah also got to know Rajalinggam, the sweeper, who he said reminded him of Mani Purindan, the father of Bendahara Tun Ali. Like Rajalinggam, Mani Purindan too came from Tamil Nadu and cooked delicious dhal curry. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One morning, my teacher at school said, "Tomorrow I want you all to bring a model of an old artefact. Then I want you all to explain its importance in front of the whole history class." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hilmi (always the teacher's pet) spent days working on a matchstick model of the Kuala Lumpur Railway Station. Azraai decided to build a spaceship instead. Eqhwan bought Anuar's origami keris for fifteen dollars and brought that to school. Farid asked his imaginary friend to draw a picture of Mel Gibson as Sir William Wallace. I? Well, I just brought Tok Tuah along. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My teacher was flabbergasted. She said, "Why have you brought this 'jaga' along?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I smiled, "He's not just a 'jaga'. He's the great warrior Hang Tuah!" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My teacher said, "I'll call your father and tell him you're playing jokes in class." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Please, Cikgu. Just listen to what he has to say," I insisted. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tok Tuah stood in front of the class. He coughed. My teacher sighed. I smiled. My friends sneered. "Assalamualaikum," he said. "Wa'alaikum Salam," we answered. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tok Tuah began his speech. He started out by saying that the Melaka we read about in the history books was very different from the real Melaka. He explained how the Sultan used to let anyone come to the palace with any complaints at all, and he would settle it there and then. He told us that he and his four friends used to go on tours to Pahang and Terengganu and Ujung Tanah, even to Siam, on great galliards with five big sails. He described to us that Melaka had 120,000 citizens, each of whom had land and houses of their own and that no beggars were allowed to go even a day without food and shelter. He mimicked Sultan Mansor's snarl, and Tun Perak's twitching handlebar moustaches and Jebat's swaggering walk. Finally, he told us how Melaka got corrupted by its wealth and warned us not to do the same now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That day, Tok Tuah got a standing ovation. Even Teacher clapped. I got an 'A' for History. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tok Tuah died seven weeks after that. He was 542 years old. It was during the Puasa month and he took the LRT from Sungai Buluh. He wanted to stop and buy some sweetmeats (he absolutely loved 'pau kaya'). When he arrived at Chow Kit station, he collapsed on the platform with a massive stroke. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They rushed him in an ambulance to Kuala Lumpur General Hospital but he was already gone. He didn't feel a thing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We buried him at Ampang Cemetery, right across from the grave of Tan Sri P. Ramlee, who played him in that film. I visit the grave sometimes just to tell him that I'm now a lecturer in Malay History </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">at Leyden University. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I still remember the day he walked through my door. It's as if it was just yesterday. Ah, well... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By the way, did I tell you I met King Henry VIII whilst I was studying in Cambridge? He worked as a night porter at my college. But that, as they say, is a different story.</span><br />
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Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-35944424332746819302014-04-26T01:57:00.000+01:002014-04-26T02:27:25.351+01:00The Story of Ram Singh<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>The story below is an account by Hugh Clifford, British Resident to the Sultan of Pahang, of the attack on Kuala Tembeling during the Malay uprising led by Orang Kaya Pahlawan Dato' Bahaman of Semantan to expel the British from Pahang in 1890. While it is obviously written from the British perspective of the conflict, it does give one an idea of the nature of the conflict and, no matter where your sympathies lie, is a rather enjoyable and riveting tale of heroic derring-do!</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They were a band of some fifty or sixty ruffians - rebel Malays from the Tembeling Valley of Pahang, clothed in ragged, dirty garments; long-haired, rough-looking disreputables from the wilder districts of Trengganu and Kelantan and Besut, across the mountain range; led by a dozen truculent, swaggering Pahang chiefs, rebels against the Malay Sultan and the Government, outlaws in their own land. The oldest, the most wily, was the ex-Imam Prang Indera Gajah Pahang, commonly-called To Gajah, a huge-boned, big-fisted, coarse-featured Malay of Sumatran extraction. To Gajahs three sons were also in the party. They were Mat Kilau, Awang Nong and Teh Ibrahim: typical young Malay roisterers, truculent, swaggering, boastful, noisy and gaily-clad. The foremost </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">fighting chief of the band was the Orang Kaya Pahlawan of Semantan. A thickset, round-faced, keen-eyed man of about fifty years of age, he was known to all the people of Pahang as a warrior of real prowess, a scout without equal in the Peninsula, and a jungle-man who ran the wild tribes of the woods close in his knowledge of forest-lore. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To' Gajah spoke to them about an attack that was to be made just before dawn upon the small detachment of Sikhs stationed in the big stockade at Kuala Tembeling. The word was passed for absolute silence, and the dugouts with their loads of armed men were then pushed out into mid-stream. The stockade, which was to be the object of the attack, was situated upon a piece of rising ground overlooking the junction of the Tembeling and Pahang Rivers, and at its feet was stretched the broad sand bank of Pasir Tambang, which has been the scene of so many thrilling events in the history of this Malayan State of Pahang.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The men in the boats floated down the stream borne slowly along by the current, were absolutely noiseless. The nerves of one and all were strung to a pitch of intensity. Hands clutched weapons in an iron grip; breaths were held, cars strained to catch the slightest sound from the stockade which, as they drew nearer, was plainly visible on the prominent point, outlined blackly against the dark sky. The river, black also, save where here and there the dim starlight touched it with a leaden gleam, rolled along inexorably, carrying them nearer and nearer to the fight which lay ahead, bearing sudden and awful death to the dozen Sikhs in the stockade. At last, after a lapse of time that seemed an age to the raiders, the boats grounded one by one upon the sand bank of Pasir Tambang, so gently and so silently that they might have been ghostly crafts blown thither from the Land of Shadows.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Orang Kaya Pahlawan landed with Wan Lela, Mat Kilau, Awang Nong, Teh Ibrahim, Panglima Kiri, and a score of picked men at his heels, leaving old To' Gajah and the rest of the party in the boats. Very cautiously </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">they made their way to the foot of the eminence upon which the stockade stood, flitting across the sand in single file as noiselessly as shadows. Hiding behind some sparse bushes, they caught sight of the glint of a rifle-barrel as a lone Sikh sentry passed down his beat away from them. The raiders could hear the regular fall of the heavy </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ammunition boots as the sentry marched along. Then they heard him halt, pause for a moment, and presently the sound of his footfalls began to draw near to them once more. Each man among the raiders held his breath, and listened in an agony of suspense. Would he see them and give the alarm before he could be stricken dead? Suddenly a figure started up in silhouette against the skyline behind the sentry's back, moving quickly, but with such complete absence of noise that it seemed more ghost-like than human. A long black arm grasping a sword leaped up sharply against the sky; the weapon poised itself for a moment, reeled backward, and then with a thick swish and a thud descended upon the head of the Sikh. The sentry's knees quivered for a moment; his body shook like a steam-launch brought suddenly to a standstill upon a submerged rock; and then he fell over in a limp heap against the wall of the stockade, with a dull bump and a slight clash of jingling arms and accoutrements.'</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In a second all the raiders were upon their feet, and, led by the Orang Kaya, waving his reeking blade above his head, they rushed into the now unguarded stockade, and then, sounding their war-cry for the first time that night, they plunged into the hut in which the Sikhs were sleeping.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There were nine men inside the hut. The jangle caused by the fall of the sentry by the gate had awakened two of them, and these threw themselves upon the rebels and, fought desperately with their clubbed rifles. They had no other weapons. Their companions came to their aid, and a good oak rifle-butt was broken into two pieces over Teh Ibrahim's head in the fight which ensued, though no injury was done to him by the blow. The rush of the Sikhs was so effectual that they all won clear of the hut, and six of their number escaped into the jungle and so saved themselves. The remaining three were killed outside the hut, and Kuala Tembeling stockade had fallen into the hands of the raiders. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Their greatest enemy of the rebels, the loyal Imam Prang Indera Setia Raja, had his village some thirty odd miles lower down the Pahang River, at Pulau Tawar, and if this place could also be surprised, the best part of Pahang would be in the possession of the rebels, and a general rising in their favour might be confidently looked for. The Orang Kaya and his people knew this, and their hearts were uplifted with triumph, for they saw now that the Saint who had foretold victory to their arms had been no lying prophet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Unfortunately for the rebels, however, all the Sikhs had not been within the walls of the stockade when the well-planned attack was delivered. On the morning of the attack two of the little garrison, Ram Singh and Kishen Singh, had bestirred themselves before their comrades, and were already shivering on the water's edge when the raiders arrived. It says a good deal for the admirable tactics of the Malays that it was not until the attack had been delivered that the two Sikhs became aware of the approach of their enemies. Suddenly, as the two Sikhs stood, naked save for their loin-cloths, the great stillness of the night was broken by a tempest of shrill yells. Then came half a dozen shots, ringing out crisply and fiercely and awakening a hundred clanging echoes in the forest on either bank of the river. An answering cheer was raised by the Malays in the boats, the tumult of angry sound seeming to spring from out of the darkness in front, behind, on every side of the bewildered Sikhs. The thick mist beginning to rise from the surface of the water served to plunge the sand bank upon which they stood into fathomless gloom. The ears of the two men rang again with the clamour of the fight going on in the stockade, with the shouts and yells of those who shrieked encouragement to their friends from the moored boats, with the clash of weapons, and with the sudden outbreak of the unexpected hubbub. But they could see nothing-nothing but the great inky shadows all about them into which everything seemed to be merged, and from which issued such discordant and fearful sounds.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'Where are you, Ram-siar, my brother?' cried Kishen Singh, despairingly; and a heavy silence fell around them for a moment as his voice was heard by the Malays in the boats. Then the shout of the enemies nearest to the two Sikhs broke out more loudly than before.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'Its the voice of a kafir!' cried some-'Stab, stab!' 'Kill, and show no mercy, in the name of Allah!'-'Where, where?' -and then came the crisp pattering of many bare feet over the dry, hard sand in the direction from which the Sikh had shouted to his countryman. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'Brother, I am here,' cried Ram Singh, more quietly, close to Kishen Singh's elbow. 'Alas, but we have no arms, and these jungle-pigs be many. We must tear the life from them with our hands. Oh, Guru Nanak, have a care for thy children in this their hour of need!'</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the dead blackness of the night both men could hear the swish of naked blades on all sides of them, for the Malays were as much baffled by the darkness as were their victims, and men struck right and left on the bare chance of smiting something. Presently the swish of a sword very near to Ram Singh ended suddenly in a sickening thud, the sound of steel telling loudly upon yielding flesh, and Kishen Singh gave a short, hard cough. The unseen owner of the weapon raised a cry of 'Basah! Basah! I have wetted him! I have drawn blood!' and a yell of exultation went up from a score of fierce voices. Guided by the noise, Ram Singh threw himself upon the struggling mass which was Kishen Singh rolling over and over in his death-agony, with the Malays tossing and tumbling, hacking and smiting above him. Ram Singh's left hand grasped a sword-blade, and though the fingers were nearly severed he managed to wrench the weapon from the grip of a Malay. Then, with the roar of an angry forest monster, he charged the spot where the tumult was loudest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Putting all his weight into each blow, and striking blindly and ceaselessly, he fought his way through the throng in the direction from which the sound of the river purring between its banks was borne to him. The Malays fell back before his desperate onslaught, but they closed in behind him, wounding him cruelly with their swords and daggers and wood-knives, while he in his blindness did them but little injury. None the less, as the dawn began to break, Ram Singh, bleeding from more than a score of wounds, and with his left arm nearly severed, succeeded at last in leaping into one of the moored boats, and, cutting the rope, pushed out into mid-stream. There were three Malays on board the little dugout, but they quickly slipped over the side, and swam for the shore, deeming this blood-stained, fighting, roaring Sikh no pleasant foe with whom to do battle; and as they went, Ram Singh, utterly spent by his exertions and by loss of blood, slipped down into the bottom of the boat</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fortunately, none gave chase and thus, as the day-light began to draw the colour out of the jungle on the river-banks, the dugout, in which the wounded Sikh lay, drifted rocking down the stream, until at last it disappeared round the bend a quarter of a mile below the rebel camp.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ram Singh lay so very still that the raiders may perhaps have persuaded themselves that he was dead; but they should have made sure, for their next move must be down stream, and the success or failure of their attack depended almost entirely upon the next village of Pulau Tawar being surprised as Kuala Tembeling had been, for here was the stronghold of Imam Prang Setia Raja, who was loyal to the Sultan. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ram Singh was also aware of the enormous importance of a warning being carried to Imam Prang, and, weighed against this, the mere question of saving or losing his own life seemed to him a matter of little moment. Although he was too weak to stand or to manage the boat, he determined to remain where he was until the current bore him to Pulau Tawar, and then, and not till then, to spread the news of the fall of Kuala Tembeling. He knew enough of Malay peasants to feel sure that no man among them would dare to help him if they learned that the rebels were in the immediate vicinity, and that he had received his wounds at their hands. He knew also that he could not rely upon any Malay to pass the word of warning which alone could save Imam Prang from death, and the whole of Pahang from a devastating little war. Therefore he determined that, dying though he believed himself to be, he must take that warning word himself. He swore to himself that he would not even halt to bind his wounds, nor to seek food or drink. Nothing must delay him, and the race was to be a close one between his own failing strength and rapidly moving rebels. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The sun rose higher and higher, each moment adding to the intensity of the heat. In the Malay Peninsula, men have frequently died a lingering death from exposure to the sun. Ram Singh bore all this, which seemed almost insignificant in comparison to the pain of the twenty-seven wounds on his body. Shortly after noon a sudden collision with some unseen object jarred the Sikh cruelly, and wrung a moan from his lips. A brown hand seized the gunwale of the dugout, and a moment later a beardless, Malay face, seamed with many wrinkles, looked down into the boat. 'What ails thee, brother?' asked the face. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'Help me to reach the Imam Prang at Pulau Tawar, said Ram Singh, lying bravely in spite of his ebbing strength. The Malay mounted the dugout and in a short while it was racing down stream with the cool rush of air fanning the fevered cheeks of the wounded man most deliciously. An hour or two later Pulau Tawar was reached, and Imam Prang, hearing that a Sikh in trouble wished to have speech with him, came down to the water's edge. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'What thing has befallen thee, brother?' he asked, aghast at the fearful sight before him. The dugout was a veritable pool of blood, and the feverish eyes of the stricken man stared out at him from a face blanched to an ashen grey, more awful to look upon by contrast with the straggling fringe of black beard. The pale lips opened and shut, like the mouth of a newly landed fish, but no sound came from them; the great weary eyes seemed to be speaking volubly, but alas! the words could not leave his lips. Was the supreme effort which the stricken Sikh had so nobly made to be wasted? For a moment it seemed as though the irony of Fate would have it so; and Ram Singh, deep down in his heart, prayed to Guru Nanak to give him the strength he lacked, that his suffering might bear fruit. Mightily, with the last remnants of his failing forces, the Sikh fought for speech. He gasped and struggled in a manner fearful to see, till at last the words came, and who shall say at what a cost of bitter agony?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'Dato the ... rebels .... came the faltering whisper. 'The rebels Kuala ... Tembeling ... fallen ... taken .... many killed .... make ready ... against their coming .... and behold.. I have brought the word ... and I die I die. . . . '</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />His utterance was choked by a great flow of blood from his mouth, and without a struggle Ram Singh fainted away and lay as one dead.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Imam Prang was a man of action, and he had his people collected and his stockades in a thorough state of defence long before the afternoon began to wane. While Imam Prang was busily engaged in profiting by the warning thus timely brought to him, Ram Singh was tended with gentle hands and soothed with kind words of pity by the women-folk of the Chief's household. He was a kafir and infidel, it was true, but he had saved them, and all that they held dear, from death, or from the capture which is worse than death.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So the rebels were repulsed, and were chased back to the land from whence they had come, and up and down that land, and across and across it, till many had been slain and the rest made prisoners, and at last Pahang might once more sleep in peace. And Ram Singh, who had saved the situation, was sent to hospital in Singapore, where he was visited by the Governor of the colony, who came to him in his great carriage to do honour to the simple Sikh private; and when at last he was discharged from the native ward healed of his wounds, a light post in the Pahang Police Office was found for him, where he will serve until such time as death may come to him in very truth. If you chance to meet him, he will be much flattered should you allow him to lift up his tunic; and you will then see a network of scars on brown skin. He is inordinately proud of them, and rightly so, say I, for which man among us can show such undoubted proofs of courage, endurance, and self-sacrifice as this obscure hero?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>From "In A Corner of Asia" by Sir Hugh Clifford, T Fisher Unwin Ltd, London, 1899 </i></b></span></div>
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Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-62413212056396812792014-03-05T22:17:00.001+00:002014-03-05T22:25:20.076+00:00The Birth Spirit (Penanggalan)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.35pt;"> "Sir, Listen to the story of the Birth-Spirit. Originally, it was a woman who practiced the art of the Devil in whom she believed and to whom she devoted herself day and night; until in fulfillment of her promise to her teacher that she would achieve the power of flight her neck became detached, hovering with her entrails trailing behind her, while her body remained where it was. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.35pt;">Wherever there were people whom she wished to torment, her head and entrails flew through the air on her way to suck the blood of those people. Those whose blood was sucked died. Drops of blood and water fell from her entrails, and if they touched a man, he would be afflicted with a severe illness in which his body wasted away. <br /><br />The Birth-Spirit likes to suck the blood of a woman with child. This is the reason for hanging '<i>jeruju</i>' leaves on the doors and windows of houses where a woman is confined, or placing thorns around the place where a woman is in labour, to prevent the Birth-Spirit coming in to drink her blood.<br /><br />In the house of a person who turns into a Birth-Spirit there is kept a basin or jar of vinegar which it uses to bottle its entrails. When the entrails leave the body, they swell up and cannot go back again. After they have been bottled in vinegar, they shrink and then can return to the body.<br /><br />There are many people who have seen a Birth-Spirit flying, with its entrails streaming behind it. At night, the entrails glow like fireflies. <br /><br />This is the story of the Birth Spirit as I have heard it from old men. But I do not believe a word of it. May Allah discountenance such evil"<br /><br /><i><b>From 'The Hikayat Abdullah' (1849). Illustration by Munshi Abdullah from 'The Indo-Chinese Gleaner, Volume 2' (1819)</b></i></span></span><br />
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Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-21182802998107845382013-02-17T17:47:00.000+00:002014-07-05T09:57:10.997+01:00Practical hints to explorers of the Malay world ....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b><br />... and other new additions to the Sejarah Melayu Library</b><br />
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I've updated my Sejarah Melayu Library today with 34 new, er, I mean, old books. And right at the top of my 'To Read' list is '<b><i><a href="http://www.sabrizain.org/malaya/library/practicalhints.pdf" target="_blank">Practical Hints to Explorers in the Netherlands East Indies</a>'</i></b>, from Volume I of '<i>Practical hints to scientific travellers'</i> by Hendrik Albertus Brouwer. Published in 1922, the book has useful information for budding Indiana Jones's on practical challenges in the Malay Archipelago, ranging from currency, food, packing, bivouac-building and surveying to intercourse with 'natives', outfits and how to get servants and carriers to carry all your adventuring stuff. On the latter, for example, Brouwer notes that "in many respects natives are like children; treat them as such, that is do not be needlessly severe, and humour them occasionally if what they want to do is not exactly wrong even if you would prefer things done otherwise. Do not be peevish, and don't be a dog in the manger." The intrepid Dutchman also reminds you to never forget to hold a feast (<i>slamatan</i>) for your workmen immediately after the construction of your jungle bivouac: "This is necessary in order to remain on friendly terms with the evil spirits."!<br />
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Also in today's Library update is <b><i>'<a href="http://www.sabrizain.org/malaya/library/bygoneselangor.pdf" target="_blank">Bygone Selangor; a souvenir</a>'. </i></b>a souvenir book published in 1922 in conjunction with the visit to Selangor of HRH The Prince Of Wales and then future King. The book highlights notable personalities and institutions in the history and development of Selangor, as well as its key economic and social activities. Just the advertisements alone are a joy to read, including this one for the Coliseum cafe and 'picture house' in Kuala Lumpur. There was an earlier publication <i>'Bygone Perak: Reminiscences of the Early Nineties'</i> which, unfortunately, I haven't been able to trace anywhere*.<br />
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Less royal travellers to Malaya would have found <b><i>'<a href="http://www.sabrizain.org/malaya/library/jenningsguide.pdf" target="_blank">Jennings' Guide to Singapore, Penang, Malacca'</a></i></b> a much more practical alternative. Published in 1900 by The Passenger and Tourist Agency of Sinqapore, it covers the three Straits Settlements and Federated Malay States of Perak, Selangor, Pahang, Negri Sembilan and Sungei Ujong, Johore, Deli, Bangkok and Batavia. For your shilling, it has information on places of interest, transportation, public services, church services, banks, clubs, rest houses and hotels.<br />
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I've also added to the Library perhaps the most famous literary work that's set in Malay lands, Joseph Conrad's <b>'<a href="http://www.sabrizain.org/malaya/library/lordjim.pdf" target="_blank">Lord Jim</a>'</b>. Published in 1900, <i>'Lord Jim'</i> tells the story of the moral fall and subsequent redemption of a young British seaman in the fictional country of Patusan - a remote inland settlement with a mixed Malay and Bugis population. While living on the island he acquires the title '<i>Tuan</i>' ('Lord') and wins the respect of the people, leading them against the predations of the bandit Sherif Ali and protecting them from the corrupt local Malay chief, Rajah Tunku Allang. There was a Hollywood adventure film of the book in 1965, with Peter O'Toole playing the lead role with James Mason and Curt Jürgens.<br />
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Other titles I've uploaded to the Library today are<i> 'An exposition of relations of the British government with the Sultan and the state of Palembang', 'The Malay Peninsula : a record of British progress in the middle East', 'Chu-fan-chi: Chau Ju-Kua and his work on the Chinese and Arab trade in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries', 'The head hunters of Borneo, journeyings in Sumatra', 'Kambuja Desa', 'My life in Sarawak: The Ranee of Sarawak', 'The Federation of Malaysia', 'Malaysia and the Pacific archipelagoes', 'Matahari; stimmungsbilder aus den malayisch-siamesischen tropen', 'Narrative of the shipwreck of the Antelope East-India pacquet', 'The Natives of Sarawak and British North Borneo', 'Quedah; or, Stray leaves from a journal in Malayan waters', 'Report on certain economic questions in the English and Dutch colonies in the Orient', 'Slave Trade, East India and Ceylon', 'Catalogue of Malay manuscripts and manuscripts relating to the Malay language in the Bodleian library', 'The China Sea directory', 'Evolution of the inhabitants of Java', 'Jelebu: Its History And Constitution', 'Adventures Among the Dyaks of Borneo', 'Seventeen years and four months captive among the Dyaks of Borneo', 'Seventeen years among the Sea Dyaks of Borneo', 'Isles of the East', 'Adventures of a younger son', 'Blown to Bits or, The Lonely Man of Rakata', 'The rajah of Dah', 'The globular jottings of Griselda', 'English-Malay dictionary: Kitab dari bahasa Inggris dan Melajoe', 'Lettres et pièces diplomatiques écrites en malay'</i> and <i>'An Account of the Island of Sumatra'</i>.<br />
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You can visit the Library at <a href="http://www.sabrizain.org/malaya/library/"><b>http://www.sabrizain.org/malaya/library/</b></a><br />
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<i>* February 18th update: I have since managed to locate the series of newspaper articles comprising '<b>Bygone Perak'</b> that was published in the Straits Times between November and December 1920. You can download these </i><b><a href="http://www.sabrizain.org/malaya/library/bygoneperak.pdf" target="_blank">here</a></b><i>.</i><br />
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Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-8956373120788252792012-05-02T08:58:00.001+01:002012-05-02T09:02:13.079+01:00Tiger tales from colonial Malaya<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The Tiger has featured prominently in Malay culture and history throughout the centuries, both as a symbol of authority, power and respect, as well as an object of terror, superstition and destruction.<br />
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In 2010, I was requested by the nature conservation organisation WWF Malaysia to prepare a compilation of accounts and stories of the tiger in Malayan history. This was for a fundraising event being organized by WWF Malaysia in the lead-up to the international Tiger Conservation Summit in St Petersburg, Russia, at the end of that year. Unfortunately, the fundraising event never took place but I'm providing the document I compiled here, for your edification.<br />
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Among the stories and accounts you will read about here is the legend of Tiger Rock in Pulau Pangkor; were-Tigers, including the Kerinchi were-Tigers and the fanged white Tiger-king of Kedah; Tiger superstitions and '<i>Kramat</i>'(sacred) Tigers; the excommunication of Tigers by the first Bishop of Malacca; use of Tiger parts in Singapore; royal Tiger and buffalo fights; accounts of unusual Tiger attacks; the Tiger in Malay proverbs; and the Tiger in the historical flags of the Malay peninsula.<br />
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<b><i><a href="http://www.sabrizain.org/malaya/tigertales.pdf" target="_blank">Click here to download the document</a></i></b> <i>(17 MB).</i><br />
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<i><br /></i></div>Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-8004017556764880202012-05-02T00:57:00.000+01:002012-05-02T01:51:21.864+01:00A Royal Malay Banquet Menu<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>Extracted from '<b>Perak and the Malays: "Sarong" and "kris"' </b>by John Frederick Adolphus McNair (London, Tinsley Brothers, 1878).</i><br />
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The Maharajah entertained a departing Governor and his lady at a banquet at the Istana, or palace, when the menus were printed on pieces of rich yellow satin bordered with green silk lace. As an example of the style in which an Eastern prince who adopts our customs can give a dinner, it may not be out of place to print here in extenso the contents of the bill of fare, in spite of the peculiarity of the Malay language. It is unnecessary to give a translation in full, and the reader will surmise that <i>Tim </i>signifies soup, <i>Ikan </i>fish, and so on. <i>Sambals </i>already been described; while amongst the <i>Manissan</i>, or sweets, plum-pudding and custard are sufficiently English to need no interpreter. Suffice it that the list contains all the delicacies to be procured in the Straits, not omitting <i>Dodol Baku </i>(ices), <i>Ananas</i>, <i>Susu</i>, and <i>Limau</i>.<br />
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</span><span style="font-size: 15px;"><i><b>'Perak and the Malays: "Sarong" and "kris"</b>' by John Frederick </i></span></span></pre>
<pre><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: 15px;"><i>Adolphus McNair (London, Tinsley Brothers, 1878) is available at </i></span></span></pre>
<pre><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: 15px;"><i>my <b><a href="http://www.sabrizain.org/malaya/library/index2.html" target="_blank">Sejarah Melayu Library</a></b>. Click <a href="http://www.sabrizain.org/malaya/library/documents/AFE25C149159B8E0CCEBB0CB5A89A6653494291D.html" target="_blank"><b>here </b></a>to download a copy.</i></span></span></pre>
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</div>Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-31778021438776022882012-04-09T10:12:00.000+01:002012-04-09T10:48:41.501+01:00“Here be Moors and Gentiles”: The first Englishman in Malaya<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ralph Fitch (ca. 1550 - 1611) was a gentleman merchant of London and was possibly the first English traveller to have visited the Malay Archipelago. Embarking on the ship 'Tiger' in 1583, he reached Malacca in 1588 and below is an extract from his chronicles with a brief description of the region.</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The 10 of January I went from Pegu to Malacca, passing by many of the ports of Pegu, as Martavan, the island of Tavi [Tavoy], from whence cometh great store of tinne which serveth all India, the islands of Tanaseri [Tenasserim], Junsalaon [Junkceylon], and many others ; and so came to Malacca the 8 of February, where the Portugals have a castle which standeth near the sea. And the country fast without the towne belongeth to the Malayos, which is a kinde of proud people. They go naked with a cloth about their middle, and a little roll of cloth about their heads. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Hither come many ships from China and from the Malucos, Banda, Timor, and from many other islands of the Javas, which bring great store of spices and drugs, and diamonds and other jewels. The voyages into many of these islands belong unto the Captain of Malacca, so that none may go thither without his licence, which yield him great sums of money every year. The Portugals here have often times wars with the king of Acheh, which standeth in the island of Sumatra, from whence commeth great store of pepper and other spices every year to Pegu and Mecca within the Red Sea, and other places.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Laban [Labuan] is an island among the Javas from whence come the diamonds of the new water. And they find them in the rivers, for the king will not suffer them to dig the rock. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Jambi [Jambi] is an island among the Javas also, from whence come diamonds. And the king hath a mass of earth which is gold; it grows in the middle of a river, and when the king doth lack gold, they cut part of the earth and melt it, whereof cometh gold. This mas of earth doth appear but once in a year; which is when the water is low, and this is in the month of April. Binia is another island among the Javas, where the women travel and labour as our men do in England, and the men keep house and go where they will.</span><br />
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<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Interestingly, Fitch's journey is referred to indirectly by William Shakespeare in Act 1, Scene 3 of <i>Macbeth</i>, where the first witch cackles about a sailor's wife: "<i>Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master of the Tyger.</i>"</b><br />
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<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Fitch's chronicles were crucial to the early successes of the English East India Company, which was formed 12 years after his journey to Malay waters and for which he became a valued consultant.</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b><i>"Ralph Fitch : England's pioneer to India and Burma : his companions and contemporaries, with his remarkable narrative told in his own words"</i> (John Horton Ryley, 1899) is available at my <a href="http://www.sabrizain.org/malaya/library" target="_blank">Sejarah Melayu Library</a>. Click <a href="http://www.sabrizain.org/malaya/library/documents/C2292065F97DC0032865A8F6490071164AF1B4D6.html" target="_blank">here </a>to download a copy.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-66912025570498530242011-10-11T23:40:00.000+01:002011-10-11T23:46:57.113+01:00Lost Times and Untold Tales From The Malay World<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="Section1"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUlOymQZCGhP-UJ5f5_kYXnowvk44gjPBamO5nMbCrquC7QIVvKC205Ytx5zVnyL7Kp2wKV6jDnvXM5XkX6hCHCpU5Q4R9vjYNJvDSCpUdiIuzmwp46-ZNDkr4gaespXShbFEQrorOsY4l/s1600/00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUlOymQZCGhP-UJ5f5_kYXnowvk44gjPBamO5nMbCrquC7QIVvKC205Ytx5zVnyL7Kp2wKV6jDnvXM5XkX6hCHCpU5Q4R9vjYNJvDSCpUdiIuzmwp46-ZNDkr4gaespXShbFEQrorOsY4l/s320/00.jpg" width="203" /></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="messageBody translationEligibleUserMessage" data-ft="{"type":3}"></span></span><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><i><span class="messageBody translationEligibleUserMessage" data-ft="{"type":3}">Ian Proudfoot, one of the greatest scholars of the Islamic world of Southeast Asia and especially of early Muslim printing, passed away on 23 September 2011. The following is the introduction to the book 'Lost Times and Untold Tales From The Malay World' which pays tribute to his work.</span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;"></span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt; line-height: 110%;"><i> </i></span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt; line-height: 110%;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt; line-height: 110%;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">"maka kujadikan diriku pungutib sagala remah remah dcripada sagala </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: 0.3pt; line-height: 110%;">taman orang orang yang bijaksana, umpama, sa'ekor lubah yang </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: 0.1pt; line-height: 110%;">munghimpunkan mudu dcripada berbagei bagei junis bunga bungaan yang harum bahunya"</span></i><i> </i><i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: 0.15pt; line-height: 110%;"></span></i><i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: 0.15pt; line-height: 110%;">From Taman Mingatauan </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: 0.15pt; line-height: 110%;">1848, p. 2: "I make myself a compiler of the grains from </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: 0.2pt; line-height: 110%;">the gardens of wise men. like a honeybee collecting honey from various </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 110%;">fragrant flowers."</span></i></span></div></div></div></div><div class="Section1" style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;"><br />
Coiling like vines around the imaginary equatorial line, the lands of the Malay World are fabled for their fertility and are home to an enormous </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">variety of different species. The metaphorical Malay Garden of Knowledge </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">is also renowned for its riches, and has attracted the attention of many </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">scholarly cultivators intent on revealing the evocative textures of its lost </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">times and its untold tales.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.35pt;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.35pt;">Few scholars can match Ian Proudfoot's inspiring work in this </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">scholarly garden, where, for the past three decades, he has cultivated </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: -0.05pt;">with love and care the flowers and shoots of Malay World epistemology. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">Honouring the spirit of Proudfoot's scholarship, </span><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">Lost Times and Untold </span></i><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">Tales from the Malay World </span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">comprises original and provocative essays </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">that reveal how analyses of offbeat texts can produce fascinating insights </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.55pt;">into the past. In one absorbing volume, a multi-disciplinary cohort </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.55pt;">of </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: -0.25pt;">international academics presents intriguing, amusing and thought-provoking </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">perspectives on calendars, royal myths, colonial expeditions, printing, </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">propaganda, rituals, theatre, art, advertising, Islamic manuscripts, gardens </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">and erotic literature. Linked by themes of transformations in time, texts </span><span lang="EN-US">and technologies, the essays apply the approaches of history, anthropology, <span style="letter-spacing: -0.15pt;">art history, archaeology, linguistics, philology, literary criticism, and textual </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">analysis to a marvellous array of cultural expressions from the Malay </span><span style="letter-spacing: -0.05pt;">World, a huge geographical area spanning Peninsular and Insular Southeast </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">Asia, with excursions into West, South, and East Asia as well as the</span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="CharacterStyle2"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;"> "West". In this volume, mousedeers and beached whales, giant lizards, gaseous windbags and marginal Islamic scholars, Christian priests and </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">Japanese aristocrats all roam around freely — a forceful demonstration </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">of the futility of essentialising the cultural, literary and historical riches </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">of the Malay World.</span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="CharacterStyle2"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;"> </span></span></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="CharacterStyle2"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">Proudfoot's fascination with texts, technologies and time to a large </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">extent has shaped his academic life, forging his worldwide reputation as </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt;">an acknowledged expert in the Malay classical literature canon, philology, </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.5pt;">codicology, early printing and newspapers. His research interests </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">branched out to include literacy, printing and colonial education in </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">nineteenth-century Muslim Southeast Asia, ideologies and genres in </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.5pt;">classical Malay manuscript literature, and the history of Southeast </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">Asian Muslim calendars, and Indian calendars in Java.</span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;"><br />
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Impressive and varied as his intellectual output is, there are two </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">prize cultivars in Proudfoot's scholarly garden. The Malay Concordance </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">Project (MCP), an online searchable database of classical Malay texts, </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">comprises over 4 million words and 95 texts, including 80,000 verses. </span></span><span class="CharacterStyle2"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.6pt; line-height: 110%;">The MCP is a tribute to Proudfoot's linguistic, literary and technological </span><span lang="EN-US">expertise and his lifelong commitment to sharing and promoting research <span style="letter-spacing: 0.45pt;">among the international community of scholars of Malay literature. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">With his magnificent MCP, Proudfoot has revamped and structurally </span>refurbished the Malay Garden of Knowledge enabling students of Malay <span style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">literature in the whole world to use it.</span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;"><br />
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His fascination with early Malay printing has yielded an authorita</span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">tive 858-page book containing a database of early printed materials from </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">the "lands below the winds" in the British colonial sphere. The book is </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">introduced with an extended essay that outlines and analyses the advent, </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">heyday and demise of indigenous printing in British Malaya. With the </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.55pt;">expert assistance of his companion gardener, Lee Yook, Proudfoot </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">has meticulously analysed thousands of often overlooked and cheaply </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">printed publications and has rescued them from oblivion. At the same </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">time he has filled the yawning abyss between "traditional" and "modern" </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">Malay writing and, with his fine sense for nuance and detail, Proudfoot gallantly forbore from appending the label "transitional" or "intermediary" </span><span lang="EN-US">to it.</span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;"><br />
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Unusual for a compilation of books, printers, publishers, copyists, </span><span lang="EN-US">printshops, etc., the database evokes a sense of excitement in the reader; it strikes an emotional chord and evokes a certain dramatic tension. Proudfoot, <span style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">in his inimitable style, has succeeded in designing a seductive scholarly</span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"> garden in which it is a great pleasure to roam — to plagiarise the metaphor <span style="letter-spacing: -0.05pt;">Gijs Koster used for his book on classical Malay texts. Entering Proudfoot's </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">lost world is like embarking on an expedition: one roams at will, looking </span><span style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt;">up references and making one's own discoveries of connections and small </span>networks between texts, publishers and distributors.</span><br />
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Myths, journeys and the cultural significance of expeditions form </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">the themes in the next series of essays. On an excursion to a small </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">village in Central Java, George Quinn finds and discusses Java's Get</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">Rich-Quick Tree, home to the money-spinning creatures known as </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">tuyul. </span></i></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">Timothy Barnard continues with an expedition to Komodo Island, </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.35pt;">home of the giant lizard species, which inspired the creation of the </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">Hollywood</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.05pt;"> gorilla, King Kong. A Japanese aristocrat "hunter-gatherer" </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.45pt;">features in the next essay by Mikihiro Moriyama, who explores the </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">role of Lord-Hunting-Tiger, or Marquis Yoshichika Tokugawa, in the </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">study of the Malay language in Japan. His decision to convalesce in </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">the Lands to the South had far-reaching consequences for the big-game </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.5pt;">hunting Marquis and consequently for relations between Japan and </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">the Malay World. Amin Sweeney shows that not all expeditions were </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">successful or heroic. In his contribution he compares two accounts of the death of the explorer H. M. Becher; one a speech by the President </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.55pt;">of the Royal Geographical Society and the other a short story by </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">Hugh Clifford entitled "Albert Trevor". The eulogy on the sad demise </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">of "a Martyr of Science" given by the Society's President is juxtaposed </span><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">with </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">Clifford's "ripping yarn" about Trevor's, alias Becher's, expedition </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">and the less than heroic death of "a Gaseous Windbag of Colossal </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;">Ignorance".</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;"><br />
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Lost Times and Untold Tales from the Malay World</span></i><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;"> </span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">begins with </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.35pt;">a series of papers related to time and royal myths. Proudfoot's own </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">penetrating and mathematical work on time, its cyclical and linear </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">quantification and the cultural significance of calendrical values are </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">reflected in two pieces by Ricklefs and Kumar. Merle Ricklefs corrects a previous scholarly error about the date of the founding of Surakarta </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.35pt;">and presents a fascinating glimpse into Javanese chronograms. Using </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">the Christian calendar as a counterpoint, Ann Kumar explores different </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">dimensions of time in the Javanese calendar and the dominance of </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">royalty in its myths. John Miksic also considers issues of royalty and </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">time by investigating shining or investiture stones and their cultural </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">continuity which links the present with the prehistoric Indonesian </span><span lang="EN-US">tradition.</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="CharacterStyle2"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">Transformations in textual genres, different types of texts, their performance contexts and their cultural embeddedness, understandings of what a text is, as well as identifying key figures in and behind texts </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.6pt;">are central themes in Proudfoot's work and are themes reprised in </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">the next series of papers in this volume. Mary Kilcline Cody discusses </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.45pt;">the advertised "testimonials" of a number of ailing colonials who </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">claimed to have been cured by the universal remedy of </span></span><span class="CharacterStyle2"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">Dr William• </span></i></span><span class="CharacterStyle2"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">Pink Pills for Pale People. </span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">She traces these advertisements or pieces of infotainment back to Dr Williams himself while also looking into </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">medical discussions about the remarkable range of ailments experienced </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.55pt;">by Europeans in Malaya. Paul Kratoska turns his attention to the </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">cloak and dagger world of Allied propaganda in Sumatra and Malaya </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.45pt;">towards the end of World War II. His analyses of radio broadcast </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">scripts, pamphlets, postcards and matchboxes offer intriguing insights </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.35pt;">into Allied understandings of' the Malay world. Jan van der Putten </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">considers another type of text issued by colonial law enforcement </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">agencies to physically hunt down fugitives. Wanted posters were used </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">to try to capture suspects but also had the unwanted side-effect of </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.55pt;">causing a rise in corruption and boosting the suspect's reputation. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.6pt;">This may be one of the reasons why the genre seems to have had </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">little success in Southeast Asia, especially if it concerned a "political" </span><span lang="EN-US">fugitive.</span></span></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="Section4" style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><div class="Style7" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="CharacterStyle2"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.45pt;">The search for Fatimah, daughter of the Prophet Muhammad, in </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">a wide array of texts in several languages of Insular Southeast Asia </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">organised by Wendy Mukherjee yields a fascinating result about the </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">"mundane" and "cultic" representations of this revered and prominent </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.5pt;">member of the House of Muhammad </span></span><span class="CharacterStyle2"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.5pt;">(Ahl al</span></i></span><span class="CharacterStyle2"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.5pt;">-</span></i></span><span class="CharacterStyle2"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.5pt;">Bait). </span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.5pt;">Michael Laffan </span><span lang="EN-US">provides a thought-provoking philological exploration into the contextual <span style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">nature of the term "Jawi" as the Arabic appellation of place of origin </span></span></span><span class="CharacterStyle2"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">(nisba), </span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">which ends in the identification of one of </span></span><span class="CharacterStyle2"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">the four key players </span></span><span class="CharacterStyle2"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">in </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">a religious controversy taking place at the Acehnese court in the </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">seventeenth century. Another of these key players, Shams al-Din, is </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">discussed by A. H. Johns, who calls for a reappraisal of his scholarship, </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">while Mark Emmanuel tries to draw Muhammad Yusuf, a key figure </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt;">behind </span></span><span class="CharacterStyle2"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt;">Maialah Guru, </span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt;">out of the shadow cast by his older brother Zainal </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: -0.05pt;">Abidin, better known as Za'ba. Unveiling hitherto unknown or overlooked </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">figures and their works is also the main theme in the two following </span><span lang="EN-US">contributions in which Anthony Reid traces the printing activities of the <span style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">Catholic Priest, Fr. Pecot in early nineteenth-century Penang, while Edwin</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt; line-height: 110%;"> Wieringa sheds light on a marginally printed work by the prolific and </span>well-known Islamic scholar and supervisor of the Malay press in Mecca, Ahmad al-Fatani.</span></div><div class="Style7" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.5pt;">Transformations in social and performative contexts are key </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">themes in the next series of papers. Julian Millie's social history of the </span><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">karamat </span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">ritual in West Java traces its evolution and explores how the </span><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">karamat </span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">reading tradition holds authority in different social contexts. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">Helen Creese examines the reasons for the continuing popularity of </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: -0.05pt;">oral performances in what should be the print-literate society of Bali and </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">transformation is also a key notion in Holger Warnk's essay, where he </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">follows the peregrination of Faust as represented in different genres of </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">Southeast Asian performance. While Muhammad Haji Salleh looks for </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">love and its representation in older Malay texts, Christine Campbell </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.35pt;">has found it in the early-twentieth century novel </span><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.35pt;">Hikayat Faridah </span></i><i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: -0.05pt;">Hanom </span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: -0.05pt;">by Syed Sheikh al-Nadi. Muhammad argues that while unveiled </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.35pt;">descriptions of romantic relationships are rare, there are still many </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">literary examples that feature love, and he discusses the different stages </span>of the affair as discernible in one text. Christine analyses the early Malay <span style="letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">novel from the unconventional perspective of erotic tension that is </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">caused by the delay of sexual union between the two lovers. She notes a </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.65pt;">special role for objects of modernity such as letters, carriages and </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">a pistol, which tend to lead a life of their own in the erotic plot of this </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">novel that is most often analysed from Islamic reformist and feminist </span>perspectives.<br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US">The social and political significance of certain artefacts of modernity <span style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">form the core of the essay by Kees van Dijk. The introduction of the </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">bicycle had far-reaching consequences for the emancipation of women, for workers, as well as for the indigenous population of the colonies. </span><span style="letter-spacing: -0.05pt;">Inevitably, the introduction of modern technologies also caused tensions, </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">including the danger of accidents caused by bicycles, tram ways and, of </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">course, cars. Nico Kaptein takes up this transport theme in his perusal </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">of the letters of Sayyid 'Uthman and offers insights into aspects of </span><span style="letter-spacing: -0.15pt;">modernity, particularly of the danger of the proliferation of cars in colonial </span>Batavia.</span> </span><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;"><br />
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Colonial intrusions also motivated scholarly research into a bouquet </span><span lang="EN-US">of Southeast Asian cultures and literatures, thereby systematising them, <span style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">distorting their texture and destroying connections between them. Ulrich Kratz considers these distortions that have triggered </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">the </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">compartmental</span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">isation of cultures into different categories, destroying relations that </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.35pt;">were in place before the advent of Western powers in Southeast Asia. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">He discusses the Jawi writing tradition that cemented the relations of </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.35pt;">Islamic polities with the wider Muslim World and calls for a study of </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: -0.05pt;">the remains of the writing tradition in the Southern Philippines. Campbell </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.5pt;">Macknight also wants to rescue something from oblivion: the whale </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.55pt;">of Bugis scholarship in the form of Matthes's monumental Bugis</span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.45pt;">Dutch dictionary is washed ashore on the beaches of Sulawesi, and it </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">is Macknight's plan to doctor it up and tow it back to open waters so </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">that many scholars are given the chance to use it. In his contribution, he </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">outlines a programme of action for a major revisiting and translation of </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">this work with a view to setting it free in the virtual ocean of the Internet, </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">along the lines of Proudfoot's inspirational MCP.</span> </span><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;"><br />
<br />
Annabel Gallop revisits Ian Proudfoot's article on a Malay manuscript </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">of the Cunning Mousedeer story that was erroneously categorised as "Chinese" because it was brought back on a return voyage from China </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.5pt;">and the French savants at the time could not understand the script. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">This has inspired Gallop to trace Chinese influences on the illumination </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">patterns of Malay religious manuscripts. She picks here a lotus flower, </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">there a chrysanthemum motif from the Malay garden, which may suggest </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">that Proudfoot's Mousedeer may have been Chinese after all, at least in </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">its illumination. The finale to the Malay garden of knowledge theme is </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">provided by Virginia Hooker who considers how some of these gardens </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">were designed, constructed and represented in the literary imagination. In </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">the concluding essay to this volume, she sets off on a lyrical foray into </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">the significance of Malay literary representations and conceptualisations </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.85pt;">of the garden, starting from the garden as pleasure grounds for </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">the dead as it is described in the Qur'an. This conceptual garden has </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">inspired Muslim peoples to design gardens reflecting Paradise, while it </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">was also taken up as metaphor for books and institutions to teach the </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">believers about their tasks in terrestrial life. One of the most important </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">tasks in this conception is to seek knowledge.</span> </span><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;"><br />
<br />
Proudfoot's career is defined by an abiding interest in the value of </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">knowledge for knowledge's sake, which makes him a scholar of the old </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.4pt;">school. Nothing is more alien to this scholar than a notion that there </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">may be certain things that are unworthy of study. His absolute confidence </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">in the intrinsic value of the scholarly enterprise is matched only by his </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">disdain for the mutable trends and fashions that sometimes and perhaps </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.55pt;">increasingly dictate scholarly activity. His reserved nature conceals </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.65pt;">a resolute insistence on approaching things on his own terms and </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="CharacterStyle2"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">these characteristics explain his status as a respected colleague and an inspiring role model for many generations of students.</span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="CharacterStyle2"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;"><br />
</span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.6pt;"> </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.6pt;">A teacher and mentor, Ian Proudfoot has trained and inspired </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">many active scholars in Australia, the United States, Japan, Indonesia, </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.2pt;">Malaysia, Singapore and Britain. His intellectual brilliance, unfailing </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.1pt;">courtesy, great humanity, and generosity to colleagues and students in his over 30 years at the Faculty of Asian Studies at the Australian National <span style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;">University</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.15pt;"> are legendary. Although his interests sometimes may at first </span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.35pt;">glance appear quirky and offbeat, he brings to bear great expertise, </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">thoroughness and that rare ability to make material speak volumes about </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.3pt;">culture and society. The Malay Garden of Knowledge is indeed ably </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.25pt;">tended by the range and depth of this quiet scholar's interests and his </span><span lang="EN-US" style="letter-spacing: 0.35pt;">perceptive uncovering of its lost times and untold tales represents a </span><span lang="EN-US">remarkable and enduring legacy.</span> </span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">From Lost Times and Untold Tales from the Malay World, By Jan van der Putten, Mary Kilcline Cody, NUS Press, 2009. A preview of the book is available at <a href="http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=r6ZQfWHzP0wC%20">Google Books</a></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 110%;"><br />
</div></div>Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-58261889979696945162009-09-18T16:37:00.000+01:002009-09-18T16:37:58.222+01:00Magic of the Malays<i>Extracted from 'The Asiatic Journal and Monthly Register for British India and its Dependecies (Volume XI)' January-June 1821 (Kingsbury, Parbury & Allen, Booksellers to the Honourable East India Company)</i><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSXYnmJngx9gxHiZYC-okrepQw_Sg7jH0uK7kQtb0tMyF_v9XljeVnsy1HoB3TLrlsFpPYTqfewc0tjykHDAoM-yfJhX1c6nLN0NUhlBOAICdBam2AT7dh4PvIKl9IA7LZL6JIt1jZu3bq/s1600-h/banana.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSXYnmJngx9gxHiZYC-okrepQw_Sg7jH0uK7kQtb0tMyF_v9XljeVnsy1HoB3TLrlsFpPYTqfewc0tjykHDAoM-yfJhX1c6nLN0NUhlBOAICdBam2AT7dh4PvIKl9IA7LZL6JIt1jZu3bq/s320/banana.gif" /></a>Principle is the spring of action. If a man's principle be wrong, his conduct will, in general, be so too. One of the great principles that forms the character of the Malays is the belief of magic. The word <i>magic </i>I conceive best adapted here, as it embraces all the various modifications of those strange things that are said to take place. The Malays have regular systems of magic, which differ in every country, and are <i>as </i>numerous and various as the magic itself, whose inventive genius produces them; but those of one place cannot make use of that of another, except they be regularly initiated into it. They believe in a great number of evil spirits whose influence their magic counteracts. These are all known by distinct names, and have all one common head or prince, <i>i.e. </i>Iblis, or the devil. They are as follows : Iblis, Sheatan, Jin, Fari, Dewa, Mambang, Rak-asa, Gar-gazi, Polang, Hantu, Penang-Galan, and <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Pontianak</st1:place></st1:city>.<br />
<div class="gtxtcolumn"><br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;">The magic of the Malays may be divided into two kinds, <i>viz. </i>profane and religious. The latter they pretend to be certain prayers, taught by the Deity, the recital of which never fails to procure particular favours. I will first give a few examples of their profane magic : —<br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;"><br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;">I. <i>Tuju, </i>to point — When a man has ill-will against any one, he makes a certain kind of dagger on the principles of the mystery, and recites his prayer over it. If the man whom he wishes to injure lives at a distance, he takes hold of the handle of the dagger and strikes towards that place, as if to stab his antagonist. The man's enemy immediately becomes sick; blood adheres to the point of the dagger, which he sucks, saying, "Now I am satisfied." His enemy then becomes speechless and dies.<br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;"><br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;">II. <i>Tuju Jantong </i>— (Jantong is the top of a newly opened bunch of plantains (bananas), in shape like a heart). A man wishing to revenge himself on another, seeks a newly opened plantain top, and performs the mystery under it ; then ties the plantain, and having recited a prayer, be burns the point, which communicates to the heart of his adversary, till his sufferings are intolerable. When he has tormented him long enough, he cuts the plantain, and the man's heart falls down into the body, and he dies; the blood coming out of his mouth.<br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;"><br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;">III. <i>Tuju Jindang.— </i>This is a sort of evil spirit, in appearance like the silkworm, which people rear in a new vessel, and feed on roasted paddy. When a man wants to hurt another, he performs the mystery and sends the insect away, saying, "Go and eat the heart and entrails of such and such a one." The insect then flies away. When it falls on the body, it is like the touch of a bird flying against a person, but nothing is seen, only the place where it enters, which is generally the back of the hand or between the shoulders, turns blue. The torments which the creature inflicts are excruciating and<i> </i>it eats out all the internal parts of the man, and the body turns all over blue. As soon as the man is dead, the insect returns to its keeper.<br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;"><br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;">IV. <i>Pontianak.—</i>These<i> </i>are the children born of people after death. They appear generally in the shape of birds, sometimes white, sometimes speckled like a magpie, but not so large ; in Java they are quite black. But they can transform themselves, and assume the shape of other animals, and even that of man. This bird is dreaded more than a tiger; in moonlight nights it chases men walking alone, but never women. It kills young children and sucks their blood. One appeared sometime ago in human shape, to a man coming from the market with some fish. The <st1:city w:st="on">Pontianak</st1:city> formed friendship with the man, and went with him to his house, assisted in cutting up the fish with its long nails or claws, and after the man went to sleep, the <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Pontianak</st1:place></st1:city> killed its kind host and went away. They have two servants, an owl, and a species of caterpillar, which they employ as messengers to bring information of what they see and hear. It is almost impossible to hurt or catch one of them. They are covered with hair, instead of feathers. A man was once fortunate enough to get a hair of one (how I know not), and the Pontianak brought him as much gold as he wished, but to his great mortification, this cunning Pontianak got its hair back, and in an instant all his gold disappeared.<br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;"><br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;">I could add a great number of such bugbears, a belief in which keeps the minds of the people in bondage and terror; but I suppose the reader finds as little entertainment in reading of those as I find in writing of them. I shall now mention a few of the prodigies which are effected by their <i>religious </i>magic (I call it religious magic on their own principles, but it is in reality blasphemy.) If the reader has faith enough to believe them, he will no more doubt of Mahommed's night journey.<br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;"><br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;">I. The devil, when tempting Eve to eat of the forbidden fruit, pretended that, by reciting a certain prayer which God had taught him, he obtained immortality.<br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;"><br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;">II. Enoch prayed one day that he might see heaven. The angel Gabriel was immediately sent to show him all the celestial glories. When his wish was gratified, he departed, but presently returned; Gabriel asking who it was that knocked, Enoch replied, "that he came back for his slippers which he had forgotten." When he got in, he would not be put out again, and the Lord reproved Gabriel for attempting it.<br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;"><br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;">III. Solomon one day prayed to the Lord that he would bestow upon him tokens of favour, and badges of honour and glory, such as no man ever possessed before him, nor would attain to after him. The Lord granted him his request, and gave him a signet, upon the keeping of which this glory depended. When he washed, bathed himself, or attended to any necessary business, he committed this ring* to a concubine of his, named Amina. One day, while the ring was in her custody, the devil, in the shape of Solomon, imposed upon her, and obtained the ring, by virtue of which he got to the throne, and made many alterations in the laws. Solomon all this while wandered about forsaken and unknown, till at the end of forty days the devil flew away and threw the signet in the sea. The ring was swallowed by a fish which was caught and brought to Solomon, who found the ring in its belly. Having thus obtained the signet, he recovered the kingdom; took the devil, and tying a stone to his neck, threw him into the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">sea</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename w:st="on">Tiberius</st1:placename></st1:place>.<br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;"><br />
</div><div class="gtxtbody"><span style="font-variant: small-caps;">Sianu (</span><i>(From the <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Madras</st1:place></st1:city> Government Gazette)</i><br />
</div><div align="right" class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div class="gtxtcolumn" style="text-indent: 12pt;">* <i>Solomon is represented, or said to lie on a golden sofa in heaven, richly decorated with all manner of precious stones, and two angels in the shape of serpents, one white and the other black. Many attempts have been made to steal the ring, but they have all been defeated.</i><br />
</div>Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-60622935061008427542009-09-16T09:25:00.000+01:002009-09-16T17:23:14.015+01:00Kerbau Balar (The Albino Buffaloes)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_MTHCYN_3curAQ-Np-m0WUQKl-macgyi1kMxCNqR71r85Lx-tQ1M5k7njL5aezLskiwLFFyEIunaP8GlOR5nuQ59UiULMZ_F0FP0wpGDPh_8anwAt4OFV-V-4T9Is2OkdxJhDJbSt1rBY/s1600-h/redbuffalo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_MTHCYN_3curAQ-Np-m0WUQKl-macgyi1kMxCNqR71r85Lx-tQ1M5k7njL5aezLskiwLFFyEIunaP8GlOR5nuQ59UiULMZ_F0FP0wpGDPh_8anwAt4OFV-V-4T9Is2OkdxJhDJbSt1rBY/s320/redbuffalo.jpg" /></a><br />
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>In light of the recent controversy over the so-called cow head protest in Malaysia, it might be a good time to revisit a traditional fable from Melaka with a strong anti-racisim message. Ironically, the tale revolves around ... no, not cows, but ... buffaloes!</i></div><br />
There was once a herd of buffaloes, among whom were a pair of albino buffaloes. The pair had been born with red hides, and not the black hides of the other buffaloes in the herd.<br />
<br />
Because their hides were of a different colour to the other buffaloes, the red buffaloes were shunned by the other buffaloes. The other buffaloes would not talk to the red buffaloes. They would not graze together with the red buffaloes. And whenever the red buffaloes tried to enter the buffalo pen, they were kicked and driven away by the other buffaloes.<br />
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“You do not look the same as us,” the other buffaloes said. “So you cannot stay with us. Go away from us and live somewhere else!”<br />
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So the red buffaloes had to live outside the buffalo pen, sleeping wherever they could find some shelter and grazing wherever they could find some grass. They were sad and miserable because they were hated and scorned by the other buffaloes. They so much wanted to belong to and be part of the herd.<br />
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One day, the farmer who owned the buffaloes told all the buffaloes that he was going to take them over the nearby hill in the evening, to a field where he would give them all the gift of a beautiful red collar. The buffaloes were all very excited to hear this news but could not go out of their pens to see this wonderful field over the hill where they would receive this gift. However, because the red buffaloes lived outside of the pen, they decided to go to this field and come back to tell the other buffaloes about it. Maybe then, they could be accepted by the herd.<br />
<br />
So the red buffaloes climbed up the hill and over it and arrived at that field. To their horror, all they could see there were the heads and legs of hundreds of slaughtered buffaloes scattered all around, with the ground soaked in their blood. Unknown to the buffaloes, the field was an abattoir.<br />
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The red buffaloes galloped back to the pen and tried to warn the other buffaloes. But before they could say anything, the other buffaloes all bellowed: “You do not look the same as us - go away from us and live somewhere else!”. As much as they tried, none of other buffaloes would listen to or even go near the red buffaloes, and would only charge them with their horns and tell them to go away from their pen.<br />
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The two red buffaloes could only flee to the forest. And true enough, when evening came, the farmer came and led all the black buffaloes away over the hill and to the field, where they all had their throats cut and were slaughtered for the market.<br />
<br />
But the two red buffaloes were safe in the forest and they became wild buffaloes, which could not be caught. They lived alone, but free, for a very long, long time.Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5731452289590637153.post-75442342693064724952009-09-16T03:51:00.000+01:002009-09-16T03:53:02.649+01:00Punishment of Adultery among the Malays<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2w2flobrEcIwGO0-AEZeVlpu9ZWsRaItgNijrs4kzfP8MU-hy2HVqGR8UWDyj1LmKgCKqqHj_-Y9ON2QaAZqhcD9cPSMpoSgnOtbgZj1iym2HTSdMjYoXfZlFNAdBs76LOsau-jPbyHf7/s1600-h/adultery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2w2flobrEcIwGO0-AEZeVlpu9ZWsRaItgNijrs4kzfP8MU-hy2HVqGR8UWDyj1LmKgCKqqHj_-Y9ON2QaAZqhcD9cPSMpoSgnOtbgZj1iym2HTSdMjYoXfZlFNAdBs76LOsau-jPbyHf7/s320/adultery.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<i><b>Extracted from The Asiatic Journal and Monthly Register </b></i><br />
<i><b>for British India and its Dependecies (Volume VII), July-December 1819. Published by Kingsbury, Parbury & Allen, Booksellers to the Honourable East India Company.</b></i><br />
<br />
<b>1786, Feb. 27</b> — Capt. D. told us a remarkable story of the Malays. While he was trading at Rhea (Riau), the master of the house next to him being upon a voyage, his wife proved unfaithful. Information of this was communicated by a slave to the chief throughout the island. Their houses are close by the waterside, so that they always travel by water; a very little time after the notice was given, three or tour hundred canoes appeared on the water, making towards Captain D's house; he knew not their business, and feared for his life. He armed his servants and himself, and fastened his doors; but when he perceived they came on a visit to his neighbour, he opened his doors: and relates the following particulars.<br />
<br />
“As adultery is death without mercy, the adulterers often by opium, or the like, work themselves up to madness, and having armed themselves, issue forth and destroy as many as they can (run <i>amok</i>). This the Malays seemed to fear, as the adulterer defended himself against a multitude for two hours, before they expelled him the house; about a dozen entered at once in search of the offender, and upon the least appearance of him hurried out again, full of terror and anxiety.<br />
<br />
At length having succeeded by piercing him a few times with their lances, he came forth and surrendered. He was immediately surrounded; and every man present made a small incision with their lance, and so cut his flesh that before he died there was no part of his body for two inches together which was not mangled in the most horrid manner.<br />
<br />
The woman escaped, and fled to the king, threw herself down at his feet, and proclaimed herself his slave (which is the custom of the country, and generally protects them): but in this instance linking could effect nothing: his protection could not screen her from punishment. The friends of the dead man demanded her life; and the people would not suffer his body to be buried till she also was delivered up to justice. The body lay three days exposed before the door, and was only removed when his accomplice had suffered death by strangling.” — Rev. D. Brown’s <i>Journal at Sea</i>.Sabri Zainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13641314915328975834noreply@blogger.com0