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CHAPTER XVIII.
JAVA – THE BEAUTIFUL

We had not thought of visiting Java, but we heard so much of it from returning tourists as we journeyed through Japan, China and the Philippines, that we turned aside from Singapore and devoted two weeks to a trip through the island. Steamers run to both Batavia (which is the capital and the metropolis of the western end of the island) and Soerabaja, the chief city of eastern Java, and a railroad about four hundred miles long connects these two cities. A tour of the islands can thus be made in from ten to fifteen days, according to connections, but unless one is pressed for time, he can profitably employ a month or more in this little island, attractive by nature and made still more beautiful by the hand of man. There are excellent hotels at the principal stopping places, and the rates are more moderate than we have found elsewhere in the Orient.

The lover of mountain scenery finds much in Java to satisfy the eye. The railroad from Batavia to Soerabaja twice crosses the range, and as the trains run only in the day time, one can, without leaving the cars, see every variety of tropical growth, from swamp to mountain top, from cocoanut groves and rice fields on the low land to the tea gardens and coffee plantations of the higher altitudes, not to speak of mountain streams, gorges and forests.

Java is the home of the volcano and contains more of these fiery reservoirs than any other area on the earth's surface. While only about six hundred miles in length and from sixty to a hundred and twenty miles in width, it has, according to Wallace, thirty-eight volcanoes, some of them still smoking and all of them interesting relics of a period when the whole island was deluged with molten lava. Some assert that almost all of Java has been built up by the eruptions of volcanoes. Two extinct volcanoes, Salak and Gedah, can be seen from Buitenzorg, and from the top of Boro Boedoer temple nine volcanoes can be counted when the air is clear – at least Groneman so declares in his description of this temple, although not so many were visible the day we visited there.

It is only twenty-three years ago that Krakatau, which stands upon an island of the same name in the Strait of Sunda, just off the east end of Java, startled the world with an eruption seldom equaled in history. It began smoking in May, 1883, and continued active until the 26th of August following, when explosions took place which were heard at Batavia, eighty miles distant, and the next day the explosions were still more gigantic, being audible two thousand miles away. The loss of life caused by the mud and ashes and by the waves set in motion by the eruption was officially estimated at over thirty-six thousand. Various scientific societies, especially of Holland, England and France, made exhaustive reports on the Krakatau eruption. The Royal Society of Great Britain estimated that the volume of smoke arose to a height of seventeen miles and that several cubic miles of mud, lava and stones poured forth from the crater to the ruin of a large area. At one place the water rose more than seventy-five feet and threw a steamship over the harbor-head into a Chinese market; but under the influence of a tropical sun and abundant moisture the slopes of the volcano soon grew green again, and now the natives speed their skiffs through the adjacent waters and the inhabitants of this volcanic belt live and move with little thought of the mighty forces which have so often demonstrated their powers in the archipelago.

If one is interested in the study of trees, plants and flowers he can employ himself indefinitely in the famous botanical garden in Buitenzorg. While Batavia is the normal capital of Netherlands India, the governor general lives at Buitenzorg – a city built on a mountain slope forty miles from Batavia, where an altitude of some seven hundred feet gives an average temperature of eight degrees below that of the sea level. The botanical garden surrounds the palace and for nearly a century the authorities have been collecting specimens of the flora of the tropics.

The present superintendent of the garden, Herr Wigman, is an enthusiast in his line, and we are indebted to him for a most enjoyable tour through the garden. The main entrance leads through an avenue of gigantic kanari trees, set some forty feet apart and forming a verdant roof that entirely excludes the sun. The officials believe that they have made this the most attractive driveway in the world, and so far as my observation goes, they are justified in their claim. Climbing vines of every variety have been trained upon these trees until their enormous trunks stand like so many columns draped in living green. One climbing vine, with a trunk which one would mistake for a tree if it stood alone, has festooned a row of trees three hundred feet long and is still reaching out for new conquests. Herr Wigman shows this monster vine with pardonable pride, but he has found on his visits to Europe that he could not give a truthful description of it without endangering his reputation for veracity. We saw, here, also, rattan vines of seemingly endless length, hanging from lofty limbs or coiling on the ground like a colony of serpents. A specialty has been made of orchids, as is evidenced by a collection of between two and three thousand varieties. Some of these are remarkable for their curious and variegated leaves, others for the beauty and delicacy of the flowers. We were shown three kinds of pitcher plants; one kind is fashioned like a rat trap, the tiny spines pointing downward so that the insect can enter but can not escape until the flower withers; another drowns his victims in a syrup-like water; while a third poisons the unlucky prisoners lured into the recesses of the blossoms. Several plants growing on tree trunks have porous bulbs which seem to be designed for ant houses; at any rate the ants are always found in them. By an admirable reciprocity the ants pay their house rent by protecting the plants from other insects. Some of the European nations have defended their occupation of Oriental countries on the same theory, viz., that they give protection in exchange for a domicile, but there is no evidence that the ant lives on the plant, while colonialism is always a burden to the natives.

In the botanical garden, as elsewhere in the island, are to be found all varieties of the palm – the royal palm, than which there is no more ornamental tree, the cocoanut palm, with its myriad uses, the sugar palm, the sago palm, the oil palm, the betel-nut palm, which furnishes the Malay a substitute for chewing tobacco, the nipa palm, so helpful in building, the fan palm, etc., etc.

Nature has been prodigal in her gifts to the people of the tropics, and besides giving plant life in confusing abundance, her generosity is shown in a number of trees, each of which can be put to many uses. Reference was made to the bamboo in one of the articles on Japan, but the Javanese have not only the bamboo, but the palm as well, and from this one tree they could build their houses (though the bamboo is usually used for frames and floors because it is lighter, the trunk of the palm might be employed) and secure food, drink and light, and in addition, a fermented liquor and a narcotic.

The lakes and pools of the Buitenzorg garden teem with lotus and water lilies of many colors. One variety, brought from New Guinea, has blue flowers of various shades and is as yet unknown in Europe and America. One water lily has enormous flat, circular leaves with the edges turned up like a pie pan. Some of these leaves are four feet in diameter, and an imaginative writer has pictured them as frying pans on which the natives bake hot cakes.

The papyrus, from which the ancient Egyptians made their paper, grows here, though it is no longer found in Egypt. Here, too, are flowering trees and shrubs of many kinds, one whose pods are so exactly like tallow candles that it is called the candle tree. But it would occupy more space than I have at my disposal to give an adequate description of the beauties of the garden, with its mighty banyan trees, its waving palms, its graceful bamboos, its odorous sandalwood and tangled vines, its rose garden, its depth of shade and wealth of bloom, its upas tree (not deadly, however, as tradition has it, but quite innocent of any criminal intent), its winding ways and really moss-grown paths and its secluded little cemetery where rest those members of the families of the governors who died on the island. No wonder Buitenzorg is the Mecca of the botanist and the one spot never neglected by even the casual tourist in the island.

Java reminds one of Japan in the appearance of its rice fields, its cultivated hills and its terraced mountain sides. Though the island is diminutive in area, containing a little less than forty thousand square miles, half of which is tillable, the land is so wisely used that it supports a population of 28,000,000. With so many mountains and with a rainfall amounting to ten feet per annum in some places; the island has, as might be expected, an abundance of springs and running streams, and these make possible a very perfect system of irrigation which has converted Java into a vast garden. Sugar is the chief export, followed by tea, coffee and copra, although rice is the product to which most attention is given. It is the chief article of food, and so much is required to support the dense population that its importance as a crop is not indicated by its place in the table of exports.

As a traveler is more impressed by the unusual things than by the things with which he is familiar, one who visits Java immediately notices the numerous fruits peculiar to the island. They have here all of the fruits usually found in tropical countries and several that are not found elsewhere. The pineapple grows in perfection and can be bought in the market for about a cent apiece. The Java orange is not equal in taste or variety to those of California or Florida, but the banana, of which there are more than a hundred varieties, makes up for the deficiency. Mrs. Scidmore, in her book on Java, is authority for the statement that four thousand pounds of bananas will grow on the space required to produce ninety-nine pounds of potatoes or thirty-three pounds of wheat; if her calculation is correct and the ratio of productiveness anything like the same in the case of other fruit, one can understand why the problem of living is so simplified in warm countries. A fruit closely allied to our grape-fruit is found here, a variety of which grows in China and Japan. The papaya, which we first tasted in Honolulu, the mango, whose season had passed in the Philippines, the sour manila and the durian are all to be bought in the market here. The last named fruit has succeeded in arraying into ardent friends and unsparing critics the tourists who have ventured to eat it. Some declare that it is delicious, while others can not bear the taste, and all agree that the odor is exceedingly repulsive. It is rough-skinned, very large, sometimes weighing ten or fifteen pounds, and resembles in appearance both the bread fruit and the nangka.

Among the fruits which we have tasted for the first time the mangosteen and the rambutan are rivals in popularity. The first is a delicately flavored, orange-shaped morsel of pure white, encased in a thick hull of deep red. It melts in the mouth, and leaves a memory of mingled flavors. Its fame has spread abroad, and there was for years a standing offer of thirty pounds to anyone who would put Queen Victoria in possession of a ripe mangosteen, but it decays so quickly that not even ice will preserve it during a long sea voyage. The rambutan has not received as much praise as the mangosteen, but I am not sure but that it is superior for continuous use. The word rambutan means hairy, and the name was given to this fruit because it has a covering something like a chestnut burr, except that the so-called hairs are soft instead of spine-like. There is a variety of rambutan which has a smoother covering without the hair-like projections, and this is very appropriately called the kapoelassen (which means bald) rambutan. The usual color of the covering is a bright crimson, but there are several different shades, and the trees present a very attractive appearance when laden with ripe fruit. The pulp of the rambutan resembles a pigeon's egg in size and shape and contains a single seed. The flavor is half tart, half sweet, and recalls all the good things one has ever tasted.

Another Javanese fruit is the doekoe, which on the outside looks like an apricot, but is divided into sections like an orange and has a taste peculiarly its own. The jamboa, or Java apple, is conical in shape and has a white wax appearance. But enough has been said to indicate the variety of fruits exposed for sale on the street and peddled at railway stations. The natives usually carry an assortment of fruit as they go to or return from market, and the floor of the third-class railroad coaches are always littered with rinds and peelings. Verily, one can revel in fruit to his heart's content in Java.

One of the most interesting days that we spent in Java was devoted to a trip to Boro Boedoer, the great Hindu temple near Djokjakarta. Leaving the through train at this station with the jaw-breaking name, we went by tram line about twenty miles and then drove six miles farther. Near the temple the road crosses a ferry, the substantial bridge which once spanned the river there having been swept away, and when we reached this point we found the stream so swollen by recent rains that the natives were not willing to risk their boats in the angry flood. We returned to the tramway station and spent the night in the hospitable home of the Dutch stationmaster, the only white man in the town. Returning to the river early next morning we found that the waters had sufficiently subsided to enable us to cross, and we reached Boro Boedoer while yet the sun was low. And what a monument is Boro Boedoer to the zeal of the Buddhist priests, the skill of the Hindu architect and the patient industry of the Javanese! As a temple it is not surpassed, in labor expended upon its construction it is comparable with the pyramids, and in artistic skill displayed in design and execution, it is even superior to them.

According to archæologists, it was built about twelve hundred years ago when the Javanese were worshipers of Buddha, but the invasion of the Mohammedans of the fifteenth century was so complete that that stupendous pile was first neglected, then deserted and at last forgotten. It was so overgrown with trees and shrubbery that the Dutch traders were in the country for two centuries before its presence was discovered. When it was found and unearthed during the occupancy of the English under Sir Stamford Raffles in 1814, the people living in the vicinity were as much surprised as the foreigners, for all tradition of its existence had been lost. This seems hardly possible when it is remembered that the temple stands upon the summit of a mound, is five hundred feet square at the base and towers to the height of a hundred feet. The structure is pyramidal in form and rises in eight terraces, the first five being square and the last three circular. Each terrace has a wall at the outer edge, which with the wall of the next succeeding terrace forms a roofless gallery, either side of which is ornamented with bas reliefs descriptive of the life of Buddha. These carvings, if placed side by side, would, it is estimated, extend for three miles, and the story which they tell has been interpreted by eminent archæologists who have visited the place. These pictures in stone not only portray the rise and development of the great Indian teacher, but they preserve a record of the dress and customs of the people, the arms and implements used, and the fauna and flora of that time.

At the center of each side there is a covered stairway leading to the summit, and there is evidence that the galleries were once separated from each other by doors. In the niches along the gallery walls there are four hundred and thirty-two stone images of Buddha, life size and seated on the ever present lotus. On the three circular terraces there are seventy-two openwork, bell-shaped structures, called dagabas, each containing a stone image of Buddha. Surmounting the temple is a great dagaba fifty feet in diameter and in it was found an unfinished statue of Buddha similar to those found on the various galleries.

As the stone employed in the construction of the temple was of a hard variety the bas reliefs are well preserved. No mortar was used for cementing the stones and no columns or pillars were employed.

Besides Boro Boedoer there are hundreds of other temples scattered over the island. Within two miles of the elevation upon which the great temple stands there are two religious edifices – one a shrine of exquisite proportions, restored in 1904, and another a temple of considerable size now being restored. At Brambanan, about twenty miles east of Djokjakarta, there is a large group of temples scarcely less interesting than Boro Boedoer. One of the reports received by Sir Stamford Raffles describes this territory as the headquarters of Hinduism in Java and the temples as "stupendous and finished specimens of human labor and of the science and taste of ages long since forgot."

I must reserve for another article my observations upon the people and upon Dutch rule of the island and will conclude this paper with the suggestion that Java should be included in a tour of the world, whether undertaken for instruction or pleasure, for few sections of the earth have been so blessed by the Creator's bounty, so beautified by the skill of the husbandman, or are so rich in ruins.

CHAPTER XIX.
NETHERLANDS INDIA

As the Dutch have administered in what they call Netherlands India, a colonial system quite different in its methods from the systems adopted by other nations, I have thought it worth while to make some inquiries concerning it.

The Malay archipelago, which might almost be described as a continent cut up into islands, has furnished a farm on which several nations have experimented in colonialism, but the Dutch, both in length of occupancy and in the number of people subjected to their rule, are easily first. The archipelago is more than four thousand miles long from east to west, and if the Philippine Islands are included, thirteen hundred miles wide. Some of the islands are larger than European states; Borneo and New Guinea each have an area greater than the British Isles. On the map the islands of the archipelago look like stepping stones connecting Asia with Australia, but some writers, arguing from the fauna and flora as well as from the depths of the surrounding waters, contend that the western islands are an extension of Asia and the eastern ones an extension of Australia. Alfred Russell Wallace, for instance, points out that the animals, birds and natural products of the two sections differ so much as to suggest that one group is much older than the other.

This archipelago is the home of one of the branches into which the human family is divided, viz., the Malay or brown race. These people are distinct in appearance, and in many of their characteristics, from the yellow and black races as well as from the white race. There are in some of the islands remnants of aboriginal tribes, but the Malays from time immemorial have furnished the prevailing type. They have shown themselves capable of continuous and systematic labor where they have been subjected to coercion, or where a sufficient inducement has been presented as a stimulus; but the depressing influence of a continuous summer, added to the bounty of the tropics, has naturally made them less industrious than those who live in the temperate zone. The clothing required by the Malay is insignificant in amount and value. The little children are bare and seem to enjoy a shower as much as ducks do. In Sourabaya, the second city in Java, we saw a group of them naked, sliding on their stomachs on a marble floor of an open porch during a heavy rain. This seemed a fairly satisfactory substitute for the ice ponds of the north.

The adults, both men and women, wear a sarong (except when the men content themselves with a breech cloth). The sarong, a simple strip of cloth, is draped about the figure with all the fullness in front and fastened in some mysterious way without the aid of buttons, hooks or pins. This garment, if garment it may be called, gives opportunity for the exercise of taste, and the range in price is sufficient to permit of some extravagance in dress. The best native sarongs are more expensive than silk, the cloth being overlaid with wax, upon which the pattern is traced, and the dyes applied by hand. The masses use a cheap cotton print manufactured in Europe. One of the striking peculiarities of Javanese life is the adoption of the sarong by the European women for morning wear. Ladies who appear at dinner in full evening dress may be seen on the balconies and streets in the morning hours clad in loose hanging sarongs and thin dressing sacques, their bare feet encased in sandals. On the Dutch boat upon which we left Batavia we saw posted notices designating the hours during which the sarong could be worn, and giving permission to men to wear a pajama-like outfit during the same hours.

The Malay women wear no hats, but the men usually wear a turban, the tying of which is a great perplexity to the foreigner.

The natives of the Malay Islands appear to be a mild mannered and peaceful people, although fighting tribes have been encountered in the mountain regions, the suppression of which has cost the Dutch many lives and a large outlay of florins. In Sumatra there are sections that have never been subdued.

The Chinaman is to be found throughout the archipelago; in fact, he far outstrips all other foreign elements. The population of Java is given as 28,747,000 in the government statistics, and of this total 277,000 are Chinese. The number of Europeans is given as 62,477, and the number of Arabs at 18,000, while a little more than three thousand come from other Asiatic countries. I was informed that the 62,000 described as Europeans included the half castes who number more than 40,000, the number of real Europeans being about 20,000. In the other islands controlled by Holland, the population is given at a little more than five and a half millions, and the number of Chinese at 260,000, while the European population is estimated at 13,000, the Arabs at 9,000, and other Asiatics at 13,000. It will be seen from these figures that the Chinese form the chief foreign ingredient in Netherlands India, as they do in Borneo and the Straits Settlements. In Java, where we had a chance to observe them, we found that the Chinese monopolized the mercantile business except where they were compelled to share it with Arabs and Indians. We also heard of them as money lenders, the rate of interest being generally usurious. It may be said to their credit, however, that as Shylocks the Arabs can surpass them. The superiority of the Arab in this respect has given rise to the saying among the natives that the Chinaman leaves a native with nothing but a sarong while an Arab strips him bare. Many Chinamen have grown rich and have permanently identified themselves with the country, and of these some have discarded the queue entirely while others have retained it in a diminutive form, a little wisp of hair lengthened out with silk thread and growing from a spot not much larger than a dollar.

Apropos of the Chinese agitation against our exclusion act, it is interesting to know that the Chinese born in Java presented a petition to the governor general a few years ago asking for the restriction of the further immigration of Chinese coolies. The petition was not granted, but the leader of the movement so aroused the wrath of the coolies that they called upon him in a body and pelted his house with mud.

In all of the Malay states the opium vice is turned to account by the rulers. In some places the sale of opium is a government monopoly, while in others it is farmed out to the highest bidder. In North Borneo there is a district called Sarawak owned and ruled by an Englishman who is known as Rajah Brooke. When we were passing through Singapore, I noticed in a morning paper an advertisement wherein the Sarawak government asked for bids for a three years' lease of the "opium farm," "gambling farm," and "arrack farm" (arrack is the native name for an intoxicating liquor). In all of the archipelago the vices of the people seem to be as remunerative to the government as their virtues, and I was reminded of the Chinese official at Pekin who jokingly informed me that he had a selfish reason for opposing the boycott of American goods, because it would deprive him of American cigarettes, of which he was very fond.

The Dutch traders followed the Portuguese into the East Indies, and in time supplanted them. Holland then chartered the East India Trading Company and Amsterdam became the spice center from which all Europe drew its supplies. The Dutch Trading Company was manned by a thrifty crew, and it was not long before they conceived of monopolizing the world's spice market, and they accomplished this by destroying groves and prohibiting competition by treaty with the natives. They are also charged with destroying spice by the ton in Amsterdam in order to maintain the price. One apologist for this almost universally condemned practice of the Dutch, says:

"When the Dutch established their influence in these seas and relieved the native princes from their Portuguese oppressors, they saw that the easiest way to repay themselves would be to get this spice trade into their own hands. For this purpose they adopted the wise principle of concentrating the culture of these valuable products in those spots of which they could have complete control. To do this effectually, it was necessary to abolish the culture and trade in all other places, which they succeeded in doing by treaty with the native rulers. These agreed to have all the spice trees in their possessions destroyed. They gave up large, though fluctuating, revenues, but they gained in return a fixed subsidy, freedom from the constant attacks and harsh oppression of the Portuguese, and a continuance of their regal power and exclusive authority over their own subjects, which has maintained in all the islands except Ternate to this day. It is no doubt supposed by most Englishmen, who have been accustomed to look upon this act of the Dutch with vague horror, as something utterly unprincipled and barbarous, that the native population suffered grievously by this destruction of such valuable property. But it is certain that this is not the case."

He then proceeds to charge that the native sultans had a "rigid monopoly" of the spice trade before the Dutch arrived, and that the latter by prohibiting the cultivation of spices left the natives more time for the production of food and other salable things, and concludes: "I believe, therefore, that this abolition of the spice trade in the Moluccas was actually beneficial to the inhabitants, and that it was an act both wise in itself and morally and politically justifiable."

It will be noticed that in a very brief space he employs the arguments mainly relied upon to support monopoly wherever it has appeared, and also for colonialism in its worst forms. In the first place, the Dutch had to "repay themselves" for having "relieved the native princes from their Portuguese oppressors" – that is, they had to collect pay for their philanthropy; second, as the sultans were doing the same thing, the Dutch might as well do it – that is, the very familiar argument, "If we don't do it, somebody else will;" and third, it was a good thing for the natives – it is never difficult to prove this to the man who profits by the system. But nothing is said as to the effect of the monopoly upon consumers of spices throughout the world. It does not seem to occur to the writer above quoted (Wallace) that they are to be considered. The view point from which he looks at the whole matter can be judged from his admonition to the British that they must not be too much "afraid of the cry of despotism and slavery" if they are to improve their "rude subjects" and raise them up toward their own level.

At the beginning of the nineteenth century, the Dutch East India Company became involved and turned its possessions over to the crown of Holland, since which time Netherlands India has been a crown colony. There was a brief interim of British rule (1811 to 1816), but at the close of the Napoleonic wars the Dutch regained their possessions by treaty, and the English congratulated themselves that they had been relieved of a burden.

The Dutch have governed Java through the natives, a resident acting as "elder brother" to the Javanese ruler. While the native government has not been disturbed, and while the native ruler is protected from rival claimants, he is really a prisoner in his own castle, and can not leave the premises without permission. However, as these native rulers receive good salaries and are allowed to exact homage from their subjects, they seem quite content with their lot, and the people, naturally docile, yield obedience to the chiefs of their own race.

The culture system, aside from the indirect method of ruling, is the distinguishing feature of Dutch colonialism as it existed until recent years. The East India Company followed the practice of the native princes and collected a land tax or rent of one-fifth the crop, and required in addition the labor of all able-bodied males for one day in five. During the five years of British rule, forced labor was abolished and a land tax substituted for the one-fifth rent, while a separate property system was encouraged. As soon as the Dutch resumed control, they went back to their old régime except that they demanded one day's labor in seven instead of one day in five. By regulating the crops to be planted, by collecting the fifth of the produce of the land and by compelling the peasants to plant one-fifth of the village land in crops to be sold to the government at a fixed price far below the market price, the government of Holland derived large revenues from its India possessions. It has been estimated that in fifty years a sum exceeding three hundred million dollars was exacted from the natives in forced labor and in the sale of produce below the market price. As might be expected, the greed which manifested itself in the conduct of the government aroused increasing criticism, and the authorities were at last compelled to change their methods.