Mr. Brooke continued his cruise for some time, and made very interesting collections of natural history, beside acquiring much insight into the native history, language, and customs, his detailed remarks on which it is to be hoped he will at a future day give to the public. He then returned to Singapore, where he was detained for several months by ill health; but availed himself of the opportunity to recopper and refit the Royalist, and set everything else in order for his next visit to Sarawak, the remarkable results of which are related in the following pages. Still sick and languid though he was, the very air of Borneo, and the prospect of activity, seemed to restore him to life, after the listless rest at Singapore, with “nothing to observe;” and only cheered by the kindest attentions and hospitalities of the inhabitants of that interesting and important settlement.

On the second visit of Mr. Brooke to Sarawak, about the end of August, 1840, he found the inhabitants in nearly the same state as at first, although there was much talk of reinforcements, and decisive measures for bringing the war to a close. The two parties lay within thirty miles of each other, the rebels holding the upper part of the river, and communication with the interior. The sultan, however, had sent down the Orang Kaya de Gadong to take more active measures, and his arrival stimulated Muda Hassim to something like exertion. This occurred on the fourth September, 1840, as appears by Mr. Brooke's journal, from which I shall give various extracts indicative not only of the character of my friend, whose ideas were written down at the time the impressions were made, but also supplying a distinct picture of the progress of this novel and amusing civil warfare, and demonstrating the unwarlike character of the Sarawak Borneons.

“An army of mixed Malays and Dyaks was raised to attack the Dyak tribes in rebellion, and this service was successfully performed; the rebel Dyaks were defeated, and most of them have since come over to the rajah. Their forces being weakened by desertion, were reported not to amount to more than 400 or 500 men, in four or five forts situated on the river; and it now remained to drive them from their last stronghold of resistance. It was confidently asserted by the rajah and Macota, that, were it not for the underhand assistance of the Sultan of Sambas, who had constantly supplied them with food and ammunition, the insurgents would long since have been dispersed.

“At the period in question they were said to be in great distress for want of provisions; and as a force was collecting to attack them from various quarters, it was greatly to be hoped that the war was verging to a termination. During my week's stay I have frequently visited Muda Hassim, and he has likewise been on board: our good understanding knows no interruption; and these savage, treacherous, bloodthirsty Borneons are our good friends, with whom we chat and laugh every evening in familiar converse. I find no cause to alter my last year's opinion, that they have few active vices; but indolence is the root of their evils.

“Sept. 7th.—Last night I received a strange and embarrassing present, in the shape of a young Dyak boy of five years old—a miserable little prisoner, made during this war, from the tribe of Brong. The gift caused me vexation, because I knew not what to do with the poor innocent; and yet I shrink from the responsibility of adopting him. My first wish is to return him to his parents and his tribe; and if I find I cannot do this, I believe it will be bettor to carry him with me than leave him to become the slave of a slave: for should I send him back, such will probably be his fate. I wish the present had been a calf instead of a child.

“9th.—Situ, my Dyak boy, seems content and happy; and judging by his ways, and his fondness for tobacco, he must be older than I at first supposed. In pursuance of my desire to restore him to his parents I made every inquiry as to their probable fate; but have learned nothing that leaves me any hope that I shall be able to do so. The Brong tribe having taken part with the rebels, were attacked by the rajah's people; and many were killed and the rest scattered. Pino, the Brong, knows not whether Situ's parents are alive or dead; nor, if the former, whither they have fled. Supposing my endeavors to restore the child fail, I have resolved to keep him with me, for many reasons. The first is that his future prospects will be better, and his fate as a freeman at Singapore happier, than as a slave in Borneo; the second, that he can be made a Christian. I can easily provide for him in some respectable household, or take him to England, as may hereafter be most advantageous for him; and at the former place he can always be made a comfortable servant with good training. Yet with all this, I cannot disguise from myself that there is responsibility—a heavy moral responsibility—attached to this course, that might be avoided: but then, should it be avoided? Looking to the boy's interests—temporal, perhaps, eternal—I think it ought not; and so, provided always I cannot place him where humanity and nature dictate, I will take the responsibility, and serve this wretched and destitute child as far as lies in my power. He is cast on my compassion; I solemnly accept the charge; and I trust his future life may bear good fruit and cause me to rejoice at my present decision.

“Oct. 2d.—Lying at Sarawak, losing valuable time, but pending the war difficult to get away; for whenever the subject is mentioned, Muda Hassim begs me not to desert him just as it is coming to a close; and daily holds out prospects of the arrival of various Dyak tribes. The rajah urged upon me that he was deceived and betrayed by the intrigues of Pangerans, who aimed at alienating his country; and that if I left him, he should probably have to remain here for the rest of his life, being resolved to die rather than yield to the unjust influence which others were seeking to acquire over him; and he appealed to me that after our friendly communication I could not, as an Engliah gentleman, desert him under such circumstances. I felt that honorably I could not do so; and though reluctantly enough, I resolved to give him the aid he asked;—small indeed, but of consequence in such a petty warfare.

“3d.—I started to join Macota at Leda Tanah. At 4h. 30m. P.M. a pouring rain delayed us some time: and darkness setting in, rendered our pull a long and very disagreeable one. We did not reach Leda Tanah until eleven, when we found the army in their boats, and a small fort they had built on the bank of the river. I moved into Macota's large boat, and slept there; while he, as commander-in-chief, went backward and forward from one post to another during the night.

“4th.—At Leda Tanah the river divided into two branches; one part running past Siniawan, and the other to the left—likewise to another point of the mountain-range. Above Siniawan is Sarambo, a high detached mountain, perhaps 3000 feet in height, with a notch in the center. Off Leda Tanah is a sand and pebble bank formed by the junction of the two streams, and the country around is well cleared for this part; while the graves on the right bank bear witness to the population of former days. It is represented to have been a flourishing place, and the neighborhood well inhabited, until the breaking out of this unhappy war. The situation is delightful, and advantageously chosen at the confluence of the two streams.

“5th.—Ascended that to the left for a short distance. On the left hand, just above Leda Tanah, is the small creek of Sarawak, the original settlement, and from which the larger river now takes its name. I intended to have returned to-day; but as the weather threatened another deluge, I stopped till the following morning. It was a curious sight to see the whole army bathe, with the commander-in-chief at their head, and his Pangerans. The fare of these people is anything but luxurious, for they get nothing but rice and salt; and they were thankful in proportion for the small supplies of tea, sugar, and biscuit I was able to spare them.

“6th.—Quitted Leda Tanah, and reached the Royalist in five hours, one of which we were delayed by the way. The river is remarkably pretty; banks cleared of jungle, with fine trees, and a view of the mountains. Many parts are exceedingly shallow; but the natives state there is a channel for a moderate-sized vessel as far as Leda Tanah.”

On Mr. Brooke's return on board the Royalist, he found his steward Rankin, who had been lingering some time, still alive; and a seaman named Daniel, whom he had left with a slight fever, suddenly expired at ten at night in a fainting fit. He writes in his journal: “It is difficult to allege the immediate cause of his death, which probably arose from some organic complaint of the heart or the brain, quite independent of fever. Five minutes before his decease the man's pulse was high and full. The steward will follow in a few days; and death, which has never before entered on board, will thus strike two blows. To me it is a satisfaction that neither is in any way attributable to climate.

“7th.—Muda Hassim rendered me every assistance. A grave was prepared, and wood for a coffin, so that by two o'clock we proceeded to inter the dead. His last resting-place was situated on a gently rising ground behind the Chinamen's houses. The ensign was placed over his simple bier, and he was carried by his shipmates to the grave. All who could be spared attended, and I performed the service—that impressive and beautiful service of the Church of England.

“8th.—Having the melancholy duty of yesterday over was a relief, only alloyed by the sad prospect of a near recurrence. I now turned my mind seriously to departure, having well weighed the pros and cons of the subject.

“In the first place, the greatest advantage would result from my accompanying the rajah along the coast of Borneo; and if I could hope a reasonable time would leave him free to go there, I would wait spite of the season: for it is evident that by myself I should have to form fresh connections among the chiefs, and without that I reckon it next to impossible to penetrate even a moderate distance from the coast in a strange place. The next reason is, that it has been intimated to me that a rival faction, headed by Pangeran Usop, exists in Borneo Proper, and that that Pangeran, from my known friendship to Muda Hassim, might endeavor to injure me, i. e. kill me. At any rate, during Muda Hassim's absence, I should be obstructed in all my proceedings, and could not do more than sketch the bare coast-line. These are strong and cogent reasons for remaining for a time, if the ultimate object be attainable; and to these may be added my own feelings—my reluctance to quit the rajah in the midst of difficulty and distress, and his very very sad face whenever I mention the topic.

“On the other hand must be weighed the approach of the adverse monsoon, the loss of time, and the failure of provisions, which, though but luxuries to gentlemen which they can readily dispense with, are nevertheless necessaries to seamen, without which they get discontented, perhaps mutinous. There are good reasons on both sides.

“9th.—I sent Williamson to intimate my approaching departure; and when I went in the evening the little man had such a sorrowful countenance that my heart smote me. When I told him I would remain if there were the slightest chance of a close to the war, his countenance cleared, and he gaily repeated that my fortune and his would bring this struggle to an end, though others forsook him. I then consented to await the issue a few days longer, and to revisit Leda Tanah to ascertain if the news were true. It ran to the effect that the rebels, under the Patingi and Tumangong, are fortified at the foot of the mountain of Sarambo, on which hill are three Dyak tribes below that of Sarambo; over them Bombak; and on the summit the Paninjow. The Bombak and Paninjow have already, in part, joined Macota, and the Sarambo are to come in as to-day. These three last Dyak tribes deserting the rebels will leave them surrounded in their forts, which are commanded by the rest of the hill; and everything promises well, if the opportunity be vigorously used. The Sow and the SingÈ are in part at Leda Tanah, and more Dyaks daily joining. I must push the rajah on to action, for help from without is not likely to come. Yet I wish still more to accommodate matters; and if he would spare the leaders’ lives, I believe they would lay down their arms on my guaranty. But though he does not say that he will kill them, he will listen to no terms of compromise; and when I reflect that a European monarch, in the same circumstances, would act in the same way—that the laws of my own country would condemn the men for the same offence—I cannot urge the subject into a personal matter.

“16th.—Rankin's (my steward's) death having been some time inevitable, it was a relief when the event occurred. He was cut off in the flower of manhood, from the effects of hard drinking, which even his fine constitution could not resist. I buried him near the other man, and had a neat inscription, with the name of the individual, his ship and age, placed over each.

“Days passed on, but not quite unrelieved by events. And now I may positively state, that the war will be over in a few days, or not over at all. The first of these events was the desertion of the Dyaks, and the arrival of their chiefs with Macota. Next arrived 200 Chinese from Sambas, under a very intelligent capitan. Rajah Ali came next, bringing some ourang-outangs' heads; then Datu Naraja; and lastly, Pangeran Jedut from Sarebus, with the information that the Dyaks of that name, in consequence of a war with Linga, would not come here. Thus they not only refused to come themselves, but obliged the Linga people to stay at home to defend their country. To quiet this coast the Sarebus should receive a severe lesson.

“17th.—I had a large party of Dyaks on board in the evening, viz. the SingÈ, Sow, Bombak, and Paninjow, in all about fifteen men and two old chiefs. They ate and drank, and asked for everything, but stole nothing. One man wore a necklace of beads set with human teeth, taken of course in war, which I got from him for two yards of red cloth. Another was ornamented with a necklace of bears' teeth; and several had such a profusion of small white beads about their necks as to resemble the voluminous foldings of the old fashioned cravat. As far as I could observe, they all seemed in earnest about attacking Siniawan; and their allegiance to the rajah was as warm now (in words) as it had been heretofore defective in action.

“18th.—Proceeded in the long-boat to Leda Tanah, which we reached in three and a half hours' pulling, and just in time to witness the start of 150 Malays and 100 Dyaks of Lundu for the mountain of Sarambo, at the foot of which Siniawan and the enemies' forts are situated.

“19th.—Did everything in my power to urge Macota to advance and divert the attention of the rebels from the party going up the mountain, but in vain: Malay-like, he would wait.

“20th.—I have before remarked that two rivers formed a junction at Leda Tanah; and this day I ascended the left hand stream, or, as they call it, the Songi besar (i. e. great Songi). The scenery is picturesque; the banks adorned with a light and variegated foliage of fruit-trees; and everywhere bearing traces of former clearing and cultivation. In the background is the range of mountains, among which Stat is conspicuous from his noble and irregular shape. On our return, the white flag (a Hadji's turban) was descried on the mountain, being the prearranged signal that all was well. No news, however, came from the party; and in spite of the white banner Macota took fright at the idea that the rebels had surrounded them.

“21st.—Detachments of Dyaks are coming in. Ten of the tribe of Sutor were dispatched as scouts; and in a few hours returned with the welcome intelligence that the detachment was safe on the top of the mountain, and that the three tribes of Paninjow, Bombak, and Sarambo, had finally decided on joining the rajah, and surrendering their fortified houses. Soon after this news the chiefs of the tribes arrived with about 100 men, and were of course well received; for if chargeable with deserting their cause, it is done with the utmost simplicity, and perfect confidence in their new associates. From their looks it was apparent they had suffered greatly from want of food; and they frankly confessed that starvation was their principal motive for coming over. I did all in my power to fix their new faith by presents of provisions, &c. &c.: and I think they are trustworthy; for there is a straightforwardness about the Dyak character far different from the double-faced dealings of the Malay. Their stipulations were, forgiveness for the past, and an assurance that none of the Dyaks from the sea (i. e. Sarebus and Sakarran) should be employed; for they were, they said, hateful to their eyes. These terms being readily conceded—the first from interest, the second from necessity—they became open and communicative on the best means of attacking the forts. A grand council of war was held, at which were present Macota, Subtu, Abong Mia, and Datu Naraja, two Chinese leaders, and myself—certainly a most incongruous mixture, and one rarely to be met with. After much discussion, a move close to the enemy was determined on for to-morrow, and on the following day to take up a position near their defences. To judge by the sample of the council, I should form very unfavorable expectations of the conduct in action. Macota is lively and active; but whether from indisposition or want of authority, undecided. The Capitan China is lazy and silent; Subtu indolent and self-indulgent; Abong Mia and Datu Naraja stupid. However, the event must settle the question; and, in the mean time, it was resolved that the small stockade at this place was to be picked up, and removed to our new position, and there erected for the protection of the fleet. I may here state my motives for being a spectator of, or participator (as may turn out), in this scene. In the first place I must confess that curiosity strongly prompted me; since to witness the Malays, Chinese, and Dyaks in warfare was so new, that the novelty alone might plead an excuse for this desire. But it was not the only motive; for my presence is a stimulus to our own party, and will probably depress the other in proportion. I look upon the cause of the rajah as most just and righteous: and the speedy close of the war would be rendering a service to humanity, especially if brought about by treaty. At any rate much might be done to ameliorate the condition of the rebels in case of their defeat; for though I cannot, perhaps ought not to, save the lives of the three leaders, yet all the others, I believe, will be forgiven on a slight intercession. At our arrival, too, I had stated that if they wished me to remain, no barbarities must be committed; and especially that the women and children must not be fired upon. To counterbalance these motives was the danger, whatever it might amount to, and which did not weigh heavily on my mind. So much for reasons, which, after all, are poor and weak when we determine on doing anything, be it right or be it wrong. If evil befall, I trust the penalty may be on me rather than on my followers.

“22d.—At daylight the fleet was astir; and in an hour the defences were cut down, the timber, bamboos, &c., formed into rafts ready for transportation, and the stockade, by breakfast-time, had as completely vanished as though it had been bodily lifted away by some genius of the Wonderful Lamp. Everything was ready for a start, and we waited lazily for the flood-tide; but when it did make, the usual procrastination ensued, and there was no move till it was near done. Then, indeed, we proceeded up about two-thirds of the way, and brought up with two good hours' daylight, in spite of my remonstrances. No place could be better calculated than where we rested for an attack upon boats: high banks covered with grass and trees offered a safe shelter for musketry, against which no return could be made. The night, however, passed away quietly.

“24th.—Dawn found us on the advance to our proper position. A thick fog concealed us, and in half an hour the people were on shore busy reËrecting our fort, less than a mile from two forts of the enemy, but concealed from them by a point of the river. No opposition was offered to us; and in a few hours a neat defence was completed from the dÉbris of the former. The ground was cleared of jungle; piles driven in a square, about fifteen yards to each face; and the earth from the center, scooped out and intermixed with layers of reeds, was heaped up about five feet high inside the piles. At the four corners were small watch-towers, and along the parapet of earth a narrow walk connecting them. In the center space was a house crowded by the Chinese garrison, a few of whose harmless gingalls were stuck up at the angles to intimidate rather than to wound. While they labored at the body of the defence, the Dyaks surrounded it by an outer work, made of slight sticks run into the ground with cross binding of split bamboo, and bristling with a chevaux de frise (if it may be so styled) of sharpened bamboos about breast-high. The fastenings of the entire work were of rattan, which is found in plenty. It was commenced at 7 A.M. and finished about 3 P.M., showing how the fellows can get through business when they choose. This stockade, varying in strength according to circumstances, is the usual defence of the Sambas Chinese. The Malays erect a simple and quicker-constructed protection by a few double uprights, filled in between with timber laid lengthwise and supported by the uprights. Directly they are under cover, they begin to form the ranjows or sudas, which are formidable to naked feet, and stick them about their position. Above our station was a hill which entirely commanded both it and the river; to the top of which I mounted, and obtained an excellent view of the country around, including the enemies' forts and the town of Siniawan. A company of military might finish the war in a few hours, as these defences are most paltry, the strongest being the fort of Balidah, against which our formidable assault was to be leveled. It was situated at the water's edge, on a slight eminence on the right bank of the river; and a large house with a thatched roof and a lookout house on the summit; a few swivels and a gun or two were in it, and around it a breastwork of wood—judging from a distance, about six or seven feet high. The other defences were more insignificant even than this; and the enemies' artillery amounted, by account, to three six-pounders and numerous swivels; from 350 to 500 men, about half of whom were armed with muskets, while the rest carried swords and spears. They were scattered in many forts, and had a town to defend, all of which increased their weakness. Their principal arm, however, consisted in the ranjows, which were stated to be stuck in every direction. These ranjows are made of bamboo, pointed fine and stuck in the ground; and there are beside, holes about three feet deep, filled with these spikes, and afterward lightly covered, which are called patobong. Another obstacle consists of a spring formed by bending back a stiff cane with a sharp bamboo attached to it, which, fastened by a slight twine, flies forcibly against any object passing through the bush and brushing against it: they resemble the mole-traps of England. The Borneons have a great dread of these various snares; and the way they deal with them is by sending out parties of Dyaks during the night to clear the paths from such dangers.

“Though I have stated the insignificant nature of the enemies' lines, it must not be supposed I imagined them at all inferior to our own resources. Our grand army consisted of 200 Chinese, excellent workmen, but of whose qualities as soldiers I can say nothing. They were, however, a stout, muscular set of men, though wretchedly armed, having no guns and scarcely any muskets; but swords, spears, and shields, together with forty long thin iron tubes with the bore of a musket and carrying a slug. These primitive weapons were each managed by two men, one being the carrier of the ordnance, the other the gunnery for while one holds the tube over his shoulder, the other takes aim, turns away his head, applies his match, and is pleased with the sound. Their mode of loading is as curious as the piece and its mode of discharge. Powder is poured in, the end knocked on the ground, and the slug with another knock sent on the powder, without either ramming or cartridge. Indeed, it is difficult to imagine any weapon more rude, awkward, or inefficient.

“Of Malays we had 250, of whom 150 were on the Sarambo mountain, occupied in defending the Dyak houses. Of the hundred remaining with the grand army, about half were armed with muskets. A few brass guns composed our artillery; and in the boats were a good many swivels. The Dyaks amounted to about 200, of various tribes, viz., Sibnowans, Paninjows, Bombak, Sarambo, Kampit, Tabah, Sanpro, Suntah; but these were merely pioneers, and would not face the report of fire-arms. The Borneons, in fighting, wear a quilted jacket or spencer, which reaches over the hips, and from its size has a most unservicelike appearance: the bare legs and arms sticking out from under this puffed-out coat, like the sticks which support the garments of a scarecrow. Such was our incongruous and most inefficient array; yet with 300 men who would fight, nothing would have been easier than to take the detached defences of the enemy, none of which could contain above thirty or forty men. But our allies seemed to have little idea of fighting except behind a wall; and my proposal to attack the adversary was immediately treated as an extreme of rashness amounting to insanity. At a council of war it was consequently decided that advances should be made from the hill behind our fort to Balidah by a chain of posts, the distance being a short mile, in which space they would probably erect four or five forts; and then would come a bombardment, noisy but harmless.

“During the day we were not left quiet. The beating of gongs, shouts, and an occasional shot, gave life to the scene. With my glass I could espy our forces at the top of the hill, pleased no doubt to see us coming to their support. At night loud shouts and firing from the rebels caused us to prepare for an attack; but it proved to be nothing but lights moving about the hill-side, with what intent we were ignorant. The jungle on the left bank having been cleared, we did not much expect any skirmishers; but some spies were heard near our boats. With this exception the night passed away unbroken on our part, though the rebels kept up an incessant beating of gongs, and from time to time fired a few stray shots, whether against an enemy or not was doubtful.

“25th.—The grand army was lazy, and did not take the field when they possessed themselves of two eminences, and commenced forts on each. About 11 A.M. we got intelligence that the enemy was collecting on the right bank, as they had been heard by our scouts shouting one to another to gather together in order to attack the stockades in the course of building. Even with a knowledge of their usual want of caution, I could not believe this, but walked nevertheless to one of the forts, and had scarcely reached it when a universal rebel shout, and a simultaneous beating of the silver-tongued gongs, announced, as I thought, a general action. But though the shouts continued loud and furious from both sides, and a gun or two was discharged in the air to refresh their courage, the enemy did not attack, and a heavy shower damped the ardor of the approaching armies, and reduced all to inaction. Like the heroes of old, however, the adverse parties spoke to each other: ‘We are coming, we are coming,’ exclaimed the rebels; ‘lay aside your muskets and fight us with swords.’ ‘Come on,’ was the reply; ‘we are building a stockade, and want to fight you.’ And so the heroes ceased not to talk, but forgot to fight, except that the rebels opened a fire from Balidah from swivels, all of which went over the tops of the trees. Peace, or rather rest, being restored, our party succeeded in entrenching themselves, and thus gained a field which had been obstinately assaulted by big words and loud cries. The distance of one fort from Balidah was about 800 yards, and manned with sixty Malays; while a party of Chinese garrisoned the other. Evening fell upon this innocent warfare. The Borneons, in this manner, contend with vociferous shouts; and, preceding each shout, the leader of the party offers up a prayer aloud to the Almighty, the chorus (or properly response) being the acclamation of the soldiery. We, on our side, kept up a firing and hallooing till midnight, to disguise the advance of a party who were to seize and build a stockade within a shorter distance of Balidah. When they reached the spot, however, the night being dark, the troops sleepy, and the leaders of different opinions, they returned without effecting anything.”