Stories from Deli

AN EXPEDITION IN OLD DELI. From Riou to the under. Arendsburg.
These days the military commander of Medan received a booklet consisting of a few issues of the: Nieuw Militair Tijdschrift, which included a series of articles by P., entitled: Notes and memories of the Dcli Expedition in 1872, At this old work was a note in which the retired captain of the Ind. army, J. B. Ponstijn, among others, wrote to the military commander: “In 1872, in a few issues of the New Military Magazine, which has not existed for a long time, I described the Dcli expedition insofar as I personally took part in it. Now that I’m almost eighty, I have no next of kin and the book is lost here, it might still be useful to read in the officers’ library or in the cafeteria, if you think it qualifies for that.”
This work is now presented to us through the goodwill of the military commander, Captain Beumer, and we consider it of such great value for the history of our region, especially as regards the contact of the Europeans with the Indigenous people, that we have already would like to request that it be given a better place than in the library of a canteen. Unfortunately we do not own a museum but it would belong in the library of son Dcli Museum.
We would like to borrow a few things from this, Lieutenant Ponstijn. hiding under the letter P. possessed the gift of appetizingly and often humorously describing the difficult sea journey which the troops, stationed at Riouw, made to Dcli, there to succor the Sultan of Dcli, and the paogeran of Langkat against a number of Batak-datos who settled at T. Langkat, “located in the western part of the realm of the Sultan of Dcli, at the confluence of the Meajirim and Biagei rivers, on a strip of land, about which the sultan possesses van Dcli and the pangeran vat Laugkat had argued for a long time. There the datoes had arbitrary authority, like that. They had refused to heed the summons of the two princes of the said kingdoms, had refused to heed the call of the government, had begun to commit acts of violence and at last fortified themselves in the said place, from where they had conquered the kingdom and the Sultan of üeli threatened. That place was the heiterst: target of the expedition. (The insurgents were led by the datus Daiil and Ketjil, zoome ‘; from the son of the first: Soelong bWai).
The punitive expedition was not exceptionally strong in men. It consisted of 14 l men and artillery. H.M. ship dun Briel ha. the order for the expedition, which had been given by telegraph to Singapore, was transferred to Ricuw, and that ship was also intended to transfer the troops. Den icadei May .872 chose the den Briel sea. The writer gives the following vivid description of the undoubtedly small but packed ship: “It was packed on board. In front of the mainmast there was not a single spot visible of the white ship’s deck. Around the galley and the hatches and between the guns the For the days and nights that would pass during the crossing, soldiers were stationed in a spot where they could lie, sit or stand as they pleased, as one could not move much without disturbing one’s neighbours. each in itself produced a different scene, while the activity of the sailors in their white ship’s clothing, moving everywhere, gave the scene still more life.Here clothes are mended, pockets sewn to tunics, white covers are made for the quarter cap, an old coat or trousers transformed into a pair of spats Some groups of natives have made the day their favorite playing cards ald and sit quietly and dignified with their legs crossed to forfeit the last tract received. The sailors and marines have something to do everywhere, then loosen a rope and then tighten a rope, sand here, scratch, there polish, forge, paint and each one of them is in full motion. There is a pleasant noise*.
The ship sailed that day to Pulu Sau, and stayed there for the night. The next day the roadstead of Singapore was sighted. And steaming day and night, four days later, at half past three in the afternoon, the ship anchored in the Dcli roadstead. Wittyly the author remarks: ‘At least it was learned that the roadstead was here, although there was no vessel in sight far and wide on the sea, and the land was still six hours away, with little more than a dark line in sight. Everyone had expected to meet here the H.M. steamship the Bangka, which was otherwise stationed at Riouw but now recently stationed at Dcli, in order to be able to debark immediately on arrival. Neither one nor the other came true. Disappointingly, the land of our illusions was not immediately

jk to be able to enter, as it is somewhat deep. Ando ships only at high tide through a wide channel to approach, for which time and opportunity had to be planned. Since even with the viewer of the coast alone a forest without life, a single sail nowhere, and of the mouth of the Dcli River could not be seen at all, a sloop was sent out on reconnaissance whose return they most patiently awaited.”
The Banka appeared to have entered the river and the Briel had to follow. At half past one in the afternoon the ship steamed in. At a conference with the commander of the Banka it appeared that, in consultation with the controller Deerns, political agent with the Sultan of Dcli, and that Sultan had asked only fifty men from the Resident van Riouw to be reinforced with the troops already present against to pull up the recalcitrant dates. The government, then not yet accustomed to frugal austerity, sent about three times as many instead of 50. A strong landing division was now assembled consisting of 200 mar van Riouw, consisting of 111 bayonets with the lieutenants Schmidt auf. Altenstadt and Ponstijn, 1 howitzer, 2 12-inch mortars and 19 artillerymen under Lieutenant van Meurs and the ambulance. The navy was 82 men strong, including 69 Europeans, both marines and sailors, with the naval lieutenants Metman, Verheggi and Kempe, while the arabulans were assigned to the health officer of the Ba:ka, Steendijk. The whole was commanded by Captain Koops.
The disembarkation was not easy. The ships could not proceed to the landing site at Laboean and everything had to be transferred to the present government cruiser, the cutter and to private vessels.
Lieutenant Ponstijn was to advance the column with a dozen soldiers on a day’s march and for that purpose at 10 o’clock in the evening he transferred into a longboat with his crew to be transported to the landing site in order to go from there to Kloempaug, where the fibak plantation van den lord de Munnik, called Arendsburg was located. “Because of the low tide, the baikas advanced only very slowly and kept aground due to the low water level. This caused much trouble, and remember, because it was dangerous to let the sailors disembark in order to relieve the vessel from the drought, because of the number of caimans that made it safe into the river. In the vicinity of the low swampy banks covered with undergrowth, it was swarming with blood-eared musicians, who did not leave us for a moment with rut. They were of unusual size and terribly inconvenient.”
Concerning the march of the detachment under Ponstijn from Laboean to Arendsburg we read the following: ‘The detachment had left Laboean at two o’clock in the night. The march during the night yielded nothing and progressed rapidly. The night was cool; the coolies hadn’t! then to carry cooking utensils and hut was unnecessary to urge the guides, who lit the way ahead with torches, to my quicker haste. They were always a few paces ahead of us, constantly waving their burning torches and walking at a small trot. Not understanding why they ran so fast without being urged to do so, they were told that they hardly needed to rank their son. Their subsequent reply: ada matjan tosaa I made their swiftness sufficiently comprehensible to us.* When day dawned and the nevd cleared, we were able to take a look at the land, which we indeed felt with our feet during the march, but because of the night darkness had not yet seen with our eyes.”
The Laboeanweg, however, then showed almost the same picture as it does today and at seven o’clock in the morning the detachment arrived at Arendsburg. The column had not had it so easy. She was attacked by a heavy rain shower, which Lieutenant Ponstijn also got to enjoy, for he had gone to meet the koionne at nine o’clock in the evening. The road soon turned into a mud puddle because of the continuing rain. The torches were therefore extinguished. The bandage from the column went missing, because the front ones who smoked the shed started to walk faster and faster and the rear ones on the slippery path could hardly move forward. This gang later, soaked, storms into the large tobacco shed at Arendsburg, causing great confusion.
Next time we will see the march against the companies Rotterdam and Per’é’/érance and the capture of Tirnban, Langkat.

AN EXPEDITION IN OLD DELI. II Against Timbang Langkat.
At the Arendsburg company, peace was not kept low. The help of the Riouwtroepen was called in from two sides, namely by the company Rotterdam and by the company Peraeverance. The latter company was located approximately halfway between Arendsburg-Rotterdam. The planters of those enterprises asked for assistance, because they had received word that the Bataks would attack them at night or at dawn. Of course they could not resist this attack with their one and a half weapons and their coolies. Two detachments were sent, each of thirty men, the first, destined for Rotterdam, under Sergeant Allia, a brave fellow, whose account is often praised. The second for Perseverance under Lieutenant Ponstijn. Persévérance was only half an hour’s walk from Arendsburg and Rotterdam an hour. Nevertheless, it took Lieutenant Pon9tijn’s detachment three hours. It left at half past nine at night. It rained and blew quite heavily and under unfavorable conditions the Sungal River had to be crossed. To cross the swollen river, no other aid was used than a hollowed-out log, primitively propelled or rather passively steered by a Malay. Four people could be transferred at a time. But the torches kept blowing and raining out, so that in darkness, rain and wind one had to descend the slippery riverbanks and clamber up the other side! They came over, however, and then things started moving at an accelerated pace. But now they were in enemy territory and it was therefore necessary to take security measures. Lieutenant Ponstiju tells of it in his account: “The road, initially ten feet wide, gradually turned into a narrow footpath that led through tobacco fields. They marched from the flank in rank and file and in total darkness, for the rain had extinguished the torches for good, and all attempts to get them burning again failed because they were soaking wet. The footpath often divided. They then went right, then left. The tobacco fields seemed to have no end. It was already three o’clock when the guide came to tell in a frightened voice that he no longer knew the way. So it was stopped. What did and where to? There we stood in the darkness and silence, gazing about to see if there was any light to be found. But in vain. A desperate case. True, it had become dry again, but not a single spot of light could be seen in the sky. After remarking to the guide that we had been on the road since midnight and the undertaking was only a short distance away, he replied that, although he had not yet dared to say it, he had long doubted the right path, ere there the road, which continually divided itself, offered no sign of recognition through the darkness. The latter might serve as his apology; through no fault of his own and through no fault of his own he may have led us astray, the sense of being lost was little edifying and very disappointing. As we stood there indecisive, contemplating which direction to choose, and in vain letting the eyes roam in the darkness to discover some light, the ear was surprised by a dull and heavy sound, to guess ten minutes away, and so it seemed, produced by a horn. In the same direction, that sound was repeated in several places and continued over and over.
Lieutenant Ponstein thinks it’s the enemy who spotted him. With his detachment he advances in the direction of the sound and comes to a large wooden gate, which the guide recognized as the entrance to the yard of the company, Perseverance.” The gate was closed and no one heard anything, so we repeatedly and freely knocked softly to announce our arrival.At last a movement was heard inside, and a voice asked, identifying itself as belonging to a European, in Malay who was there, to which was the reply, “Soldiers, come to help.” Soon after, the gate was heard to be stripped of its barricades and the doors opened. A slender European dressed in white showed up with a revolver in hand and made himself like Mr. Peyer, of the Peaeveran plantation. He knew and informed the commander of the detachment that his watch, placed here and there on the lookout in the distance, had heard some noise and noise of voices, whereupon they had blown on the cow horns to indicate that the enemy was in the vicinity. was coming; and, furthermore, that guards, coolies, and servants gathered in the courtyard to strike at the attack they expected every moment. Going up the yard we saw a number of people gathered together armed with patjols, spades, bamboo sticks and a few guns; in reference

esteem to see the enemy appear. But it does not come to an attack, neither on Rotterdam nor on Perséverance. And the commander of the column decides to engage the enemy in his stronghold at Timbang-Langkat, whereupon he has apparently withdrawn. Mr. Peyer would guide the columns, because he was so well known in that area. The Deli controller would also accompany the troops on their journey to Timbang-Langkat. The princes of Deli and Langkat were to support the columns of auxiliaries, as a result of which the commander had devised a plan of attack, allocating an easy portion to these irregular troops, as the column kept the task of taking the benting to itself. The prince of Langkat had undertaken to position himself with his auxiliaries downstream as close as possible to the fortifications. The chief jaksa would march with the Delian auxiliaries across Soenggal and Sapu Idjoe to occupy the entrances to Timbang Langkat from that side. Both would, as soon as the column’s fire was heard, come as close as they could to cut off the enemy if he tried to flee. The advance to Timbang Langkat is going quite well, until the troop with all their followers comes to a stand in front of the Bindjei River, where it joins the Mentjirim River. The enemy has nestled in the bushes on the opposite bank near the soaring alaw alang and receives the Riouwse troop division with a tremendous but poorly directed fire. The crossing will therefore have to be forced and the artillery will be placed in position. She must drive the enemy out of the undergrowth, or at least keep them busy so that the crossing over the river can take place unhindered. A Batak servant of Mr. Peyer is found willing to point out a ford in the river for twenty-five dollars. The man does this job commendably. The artillery cover is reinforced with about forty infantry rifles, which are always unleashed on the invisible enemy. And then one ventures the crossing at the designated place.
Undaunted, Sergeant Tessers made his way into the river first and was followed by the men of the vanguard. Slowly, hand in hand, they waded through the swift current, and were watched in fearful suspense by their comrades who stood on the bank, especially when they reached the middle of the river, where they feared seeing them sink; but the water was only a little above the waist, and fortunately no higher. When it appears that the river is fordable in spite of the Anellen current, Lieutenant Kempe is ordered to follow the preceding section as soon as possible with a dozen bayonets. After that, the Lange u t its somewhat covered steeply forward in the roads to descend in the same way along the bank. Now the enemy is trying to prevent our crossing by some enlivened fire. Although invisible, it burns out from all sides of the greenery. While descending, Lieutenant Lange is wounded a second time, namely in the lower right leg, and thus put out of action; Captain Koops now takes command of Lange’s division and led them into the slope along the slope to the side of the ford, located a little forward to the left below the battery. With a loud hurrah, the long train descends the steep bank. Hand in hand, the couple with cartridge bags hung around their necks, they urinate into the river, carefully holding the rifle above water. As if from a mouth resounds from the river the Wien Neerland’s Blood, borne by all Europeans, mingled with the piercing war cry of the Native soldiers, which was accompanied above their heads by the rifle fire of the comrades who remained on the bank and the shots of the enemy, drowned out by the kartets fire, cracking the branches on the other side. As they descend, Metman’s column is also ordered to follow. Holding on and supporting each other, the long line spreads out into the river and soon reaches the other bank. It could just take another kartets shot. The adjusting screw is turned half a turn lower, a tug on the deduction tube and the last shot goes off. The bullets whizzed over the heads of the foremost, who, having reached the dry land, waited for their comrades, and now, with a general cheer, are climbing the other bank. By this fire the enemy had been chased away, and the last remaining of them also fled when they saw the bayonets appear on that side of the river.
And chasing the enemy one suddenly finds himself facing the benting. The enemy holds out for a moment, but when the stockades have broken through in a few places, he flees and Timbang Langkat has been taken without too great loss. We

have borrowed this storming of Timbang Langkat from the story of Mr. Ponstijn, because it is always nice to be reminded of the time when the planters’ houses were fortresses, with barricaded gates, and in which one had to be prepared at night for an attack from Batakkers or other unwilling folk. Those things are so quickly forgotten in an orderly country. Accompanying the story is a map on which one tries in vain to look for the present conditions. Elsewhere in the work, Medan is spoken of as kampong Medan. It’s not even marked on that map. On the spot, however, approximately a residence of Mr. Rodijk, approximately where the post office and the home of Mr. Smits now stand. Thus, for those who like to try to find the new conditions in the old, it is a nice job and, we end by expressing once again the hope that it will be well preserved, or that perhaps a Richard will be found who will otherwise ensure its survival.