Stories from Deli

Deli Courant 14-11-1916

The other day we had the opportunity to attend a lecture given in an intimate circle by a former resident of Deli, in which he shared insights from his experience regarding the development of this region, which he has witnessed since 1875. The speaker was kind enough to lend us his manuscript, so that we could draw from it some things that can be presumed to be of general interest. Admittedly, many who have an affinity for the history of this country will have heard or read something about most of the conditions of forty years ago, and there will also be those who still personally remember certain things; for them, the refreshing of their memory will undoubtedly be pleasant.

We will therefore take a few examples: How to get here was the first point the speaker considered, and about which he recounts: Once a week, a small paddle steamer, the “Col. Phayre,” sailed from Penang to Deli, and it was usually crammed with cargo and coolies and pigs and chickens and oxen and carts—so that not much space and comfort remained on board for European passengers, and one could consider oneself lucky to secure a long chair and lie there as best—or as worst—as one could, until arrival at Belawan.

The boss on board was a Chinese “Chin-Chew”; there was also a European captain, but he had nothing to say; he was there only “pro forma” because the law prescribed that there had to be a captain. • The captain was usually drunk and lay sleeping and snoring on a long chair, i.e. when he was not awake and, in his drunken stupor, threatened to smash everything to pieces.

After a stormy, miserable crossing, we steamed into the Belawan River the following day, surrounded on both sides by forest and forest and forest, and on the banks only here and there a crocodile; absolutely no trace of people or houses to be seen. Thus we steamed through the jungle to Belawan, where we dropped anchor alongside an old hulk of a sailing ship, which lay anchored there as a warehouse to take over our cargo, or to collect and store the tobacco cargo destined for the “Col Phayre” for the duration of the week. Here, too, no trace of civilization, only on the bank a few miserable atap huts of woodcutters, who supplied the “Col Phayre” with firewood.

There we lay now, hearing our steam whistle, and after an hour or so, a couple of Chinese sampans came rowing around the corner of the river, which were to transport us to Laboean. If the current was with us, we could row the distance from Belawan to the “Boom” at Laboean in an hour; but if the current was against us, or at low water, then all rowing was of no use, and one had to wait patiently and wait, sometimes for three or four hours, sometimes even longer, and that in a Chinese sampan in the scorching sun.

The “Boom” at Laboean was a small attap hut with a receiver and a bookkeeper; from there it was another half hour’s walk up the river to Laboean, but at low water the road was dry and one could come from the Boom to Laboean on foot.

Laboean was then the capital of Deli; all traffic to the interior and the shipment of tobacco took place from here. The interior administration was also established at Laboean at that time, and it consisted of Assistant Resident Hallewijn and Controller van der Does de Bije; there was also a garrison, consisting of a lieutenant and 25 men. In those days, the practice of collecting donations at auctions was more common than it is today. The aforementioned controller did not possess much, the speaker said, but what he did have fetched a hundred thousand guilders when he left the region.

All tobacco was brought down the river to Laboean by ox cart or sampan, and from there to Belawan, and then from there by “Col.” Phayre to Penang and from Penang to Amsterdam. In those days, the river was the main thoroughfare; most goods went up or down the river by sampan, and the sick soldiers evacuated from Medan to Java all went down the river by sampan.

The garrison battalion of Sumatra’s East Coast was stationed in Medan; the encampment was then located where the Town Hall and the Java Bank are now, and the canteen was on the grounds of Hotel de Boer. At that time, Medan was little more than a tobacco plantation. Hotels did not yet exist either, and if one wanted to stay overnight in Medan, one had to make use of the hospitality of one of the officers or of one of the gentlemen of the Deli Mij.

The road from Laboean to Medan was miserable, full of holes 20 to 30 feet long and 2 to 3 feet deep, and everything was covered in mud; ox carts often got stuck in it and could move neither forward nor backward, and in rainy weather or ‘bandjir’ the entire road was sometimes under a foot of water. In those days, there were no newspapers, no railways, no electric light in Deli (no lighting at all, in fact, and electric light had not even been invented yet). ), no telegraph, no ice, no soda water, no draft beer, no taxes, no bicycles, motorcars had not yet been invented, no police, no nursing care, no plant association, no rubber companies, no petroleum wells, no running water (telephones, gramophones, kines, etc. were all still unknown then), no dos-a-dos, no Manila band, no churches, no religion, no schools; there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that in any way resembled civilization.

But there was cholera, and fever and dysentery and malaria, and murder and mayhem prevailed, and everyone could do as they pleased with impunity. But not always. I remember, for example, the speaker continued, that one fine day the Gayus raided Mr. Johannes Lühmann’s Soengei Diski enterprise, and Mrs. Lühmann murdered the assistant and wounded Mr. Lühmann. Then a general great hunt for the criminals was made with the cooperation of the indigenous administration of the Sultan of Laboean, and then a band of Bataks and Gayos were taken prisoner and brought before the Rapatan in Laboean, and seven of them were found guilty and sentenced to death, and one fine morning all were hanged in a row in public. I went to look at it too, but it was not a pretty sight.

Gradually the situation improved; roads appeared, hotels, co-ops, street lighting, telegraphic connections, railways, and telephones; Medan, Bindjey, and Tandjong Poera became places where people came to live; shops and ladies appeared, until we finally reached the point where we are now.

When we look back on these last 40 years, one must be amazed at everything that has been accomplished in this short time and how a flourishing, splendid colony has emerged from the jungle, a colony of which the Dutch may be proud.

As evidence of the primitive conditions that still existed here in those pioneering years, we mention that the firm Hüttenbach & Co., then located in Laboean, took charge of delivering the mail for the various enterprises, which each paid $10 per month for this service. The firm collected the mail in Laboean, sorted the letters, and then delivered them in separate mailbags for the various enterprises to Medan Estate, where at “Lim Choon” (where the Hotel de Boer is now located) the bags were handed over to the various caretakers of the enterprises, who then transported them by horse to the enterprises and returned the following day.

Well-known old Delian names can still be found among the subscribers. We mention: De Deli Mij., Medan Estate, A. Breker, Helvetia Estate, J. Huber, Amplas Estate, Gamborg & Krueng, Saentis Estate, De Bar, Polonia Estate, baron Baud, Soekamoelia Estate, Naher & Grob, Kota Bangosn Estate, Ritgen & Cramer, Rotterdam Estate, Ottzen & Thomson, Enterprise Estate, De Floris, Sunge Putih Estate, De Guigneé Frères, Sungei Si Kambing Estate, Amsterdam Deli Compan.y, Padang Boelan Estate, Joh. Lühmann, Sungei Diski Estate, Arendsburg Mij, Kloempang Estate, Peyer & Gulich, Timbang Langkat Estate, Deli Batavia Mij, Gedong Djohore Estate, Wijnen & van Steeden, Rimboen Estate and J. v. d. Sluys, St. Cyr. Estate. The English spelling of the names indicates that the influence of the Straits was significant here.