Stories from Deli

chinese coolies life in Deli

Journey in the Batak Lands in December 1866 and January 1867

Sumatra Courant 18-07-1874

After I confirmed that two prahus, carrying the Si Baja of Boekoem and the Kedjoeroeban of Senembah, along with their entourage, had set off, I mounted my horse. I arrived in Perljoet at 7 o’clock in the evening after riding quickly and stayed there the following day because the prahus had not yet arrived. In the afternoon of the second day after our departure, the Kedjoeroeban of Senembah and the Si Baja of Boekoem arrived at the house of the Kedjoeroeban of Pertjoet, where I had taken lodging. We decided that evening to travel to Deli together the next day.

The following morning, when I intended to depart by sampan-pandjang, which I had left behind on my journey to Petoembah, I encountered difficulty again with the Si Baja, who said he did not dare to make the sea journey to Deli. I assured him that he had nothing to fear, and thus he arrived in Deli a day after me. Not yet acquainted with the Sultan of Deli, the Si Baja requested to stay with me until he had met His Highness. I naturally allowed him to do so, although it is not among the most pleasant things to have a Batak chief with an entourage of ten guests. I immediately informed the Sultan of his arrival, and we agreed that the Si Baja of Boekoem would be introduced to him the next day.

At the appointed time, I went with him to the Sultan’s residence, accompanied by the Kedjoeroehan of Senembah and about fifty followers, all Bataks. I rode ahead of them on horseback to give more significance to the event. The Sultan, although having many grievances against the Si Baja, received him very graciously and offered him various kinds of cakes. After he had enjoyed these, the Sultan presented him with a gift consisting of a headscarf and a black woolen jacket. He seemed very pleased with this; for he immediately put on the jacket over the red woolen one I had sent him as a gift to persuade him to come to Petoembah to meet me. However, he did not seem very eager to prolong his visit to Deli, for on the second day of his stay there, he requested permission to return to Boekoem.

I informed the Sultan of this, and we deemed it our duty to remind him of his past actions, so we agreed that the Sultan would convene a council the next morning, which I would attend. I informed the Si Baja of Boekoem of this, as well as the Kedjoeroehan of Senembah, without whose protection he seemed to feel insecure. Both appeared at the appointed time with their entourage, and the Si Baja was reminded of the many wrongs he had committed against the Malays, such as theft, robbery, and murder, among others. He requested and received forgiveness for these and promised to do everything in his power to revive trade with the mountains. The Sultan promised the Batak people the utmost protection when they came down from the mountains.

“I have always lived by robbery,” said the Si Baja of Boekoem, “because I have no other means of subsistence.” After the admonition, the Sultan informed him that I planned to make a journey to the mountains with the four soekoe chiefs and asked for his assurance that no harm would befall me. He promised to protect me and even to accompany me on my journey. After the Si Baja had eaten some cakes, the meeting was adjourned, and the Si Baja of Boekoem returned to his kampong, after requesting some opium from me as provisions for his journey.

Now determined to go to the mountains, I found a reason to hasten the execution of my plan because an English lieutenant of infantry, Mr. C. B. Sheppard, had come to Deli from Penang, where he was stationed, with the same purpose, so I suggested that we make the journey together, not knowing what his intentions might be. I thus made the necessary preparations, while the Sultan wrote to the four soekoe chiefs, who, as His Highness told me, had most dealings with the Batak chiefs through trade, to accompany me. These four soekoe chiefs were Orang Kaja Agoe, also called Orang Kaja Indra di Badja, of the soekoe Soeka Piring, Orang Kaja Stiha Radja, of the soekoe XII Kotta, Orang Kaja Sri di Radja, of the soekoe X Kotta, and the Kedjoeroeban of Senembah of the soekoe Roemah Reb. As the representative of the Sultan of Deli, the Sultan’s uncle, named Radja Moedin, accompanied me. Mr. Albert Breker, an industrialist in Deli, also joined our group.

We left on December 9th, departing from Laboean, the capital of Deli, at 9 in the morning, and arrived in Kampong Baroe at 5 in the afternoon. We passed through Kampong Alai, Kampong Gengab, Kampong Besar, Rantoe-Blimbing, Mertoeboeng, Rengas Sambilan, Kotta Baagon, Mabar, Rengas Sekoepang, Poeloe-Braian, Gloegoer, Meden, Kesawan, and Tebing-Tinggi. Although these settlements bear the name of kampong, they cannot really be considered as such. A scattered house here and there can hardly be called a kampong, so it is more likely that the name has been given to an area. The inhabitants of these kampongs have a chief or elder, who holds the title of Datoe and adjudicates minor cases, which are punishable by fines. Serious cases, such as murder, poisoning, or major thefts, are referred to the Sultan of Deli.

The terrain along which we rode is flat; only near Tebing-Tinggi does it become somewhat hilly. The road is nothing more than a footpath, always winding because it follows the Deli River, which meanders in many curves. Along the road, there are several coconut groves, nutmeg gardens, and many areca palms. Beyond Tebing-Tinggi, there are some pepper gardens, which are planted and maintained by Bataks. These people enter into agreements with the Malay population to plant and deliver pepper, usually at the price of 3 guilders per hundred gantangs, which yields an average profit of 4 guilders for the Malays, as the price in Laboean is usually set at 14 guilders.

In earlier times, there were many pepper gardens in these regions, but due to the ongoing unrest that occurred between the Bataks during the reign of the Sultan’s grandfather and later under his father, Sultan Osman, many gardens were destroyed, abandoned, and left to decay, and many Malays refrained from allowing the Bataks to plant, fearing that they would lose their advanced money in this way. Nowadays, there is little suitable land for that cultivation, as the forest lands that could otherwise be used for it have not been left fallow long enough to be used profitably. The pepper gardens that I saw were well maintained; the vines were trained along dedap trees, a type of wood that grows quickly and provides even shade.

The Malay population is mainly engaged in rice cultivation, and their paddy fields had been in the ground for three months. Paddy and pepper are transported in small sampans along the river, as it is very shallow. Only when it has rained heavily in the mountains does the water rise by about two or three fathoms within an hour. This happens only a few times during the rainy season, and then the roads and gardens are transformed into a river for a few hours.

Upon arriving at Kampong Baroe, at the house of the Datoe, Orang Kaja Indra di Radja, who was to accompany us, I asked where the kampong was and was told that the people all lived scattered in ladang huts. I urged him to try to persuade them to gather in a kampong, which he promised to do. The Malays under Orang Kaja Indra di Radja consist of about two hundred households. We stayed the following day in Kampong Baroe, where I received a visit from the Batak kampong, which we had to pass further on. This chief holds the title of panghoeloe.

Because I had difficulty in Kampong Baroe obtaining coolies for transporting the baggage, I sought the help of the panghoeloe of Deli-Toewa, who promised to send the necessary Bataks the next morning, as he indeed did, and we continued our journey on the 16th. We departed at 8 o’clock and arrived at Deli-Toewa at 11:30 after crossing the river once. About an hour before reaching the kampong, we came upon an earthen embankment, which, they said, was formerly the fortified place of the people of Deli-Toewa against the enemy who came to harass them by sea.

In earlier times, this fortification, which has a circumference of about a quarter of an hour’s walk, contained several houses, which were later destroyed by fire. It is said that Deli-Toewa used to be located by the sea, and large ships could anchor near the kampong. I sent a very old model kris, found in that fortification while cultivating a rice field, as a gift to the Batavian Society of Arts and Sciences.

As we continued to climb over hilly terrain, we arrived in Deli-Toewa, where we stayed for a few hours. We had followed the river up to Deli-Toewa, which from there is not navigable even for very small prahus.

We thought, upon seeing the large number of people waiting for us at the entrance to the kampong, that we were entering a large Batak kampong, but we found only seven houses. Unable to imagine that so few houses could provide shelter for so many people, I inquired about the matter and learned that the kampong had nearly completely burned down about six months ago; only the houses we saw had been spared, so that about two hundred people had to share these humble huts.

These houses are all built on flat ground and consist of a single room, in the middle of which is a passage leading to a door at the back of the house. To the right and left of this passage are the living quarters of the different families who have taken up residence there. Each household has its own separate area, which is separated from the others at night by hanging pieces of cloth. In the middle of each area is an open hearth, where everyone cooks their rice. It is not surprising that these houses are black with soot inside, and that a European could hardly endure an hour in such a building without nearly suffocating from the smoke. As we walked through the building from the front door to the back door, our eyes watered as if we were mourning a death.

The flooring is made of earth, the walls of bamboo, and the roof is thatched with idjok; it was clear that the roof was already several years old by the amount of moss growing on it. The kampong chief’s house is thirty feet long and ten feet wide.

(To be continued)

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