The Shallow Seas

by Dawn Farnham

  How like these pompous aristocrats, Nathanial thought. Really, the French revolution had been entirely justified. Charlotte looked pale and tired, and he was concerned for her. Tigran’s manservants sprawled under the coconut palms. Takouhi and Charlotte’s maids brought drinks, and two young boys were dragged in from the village to fan the ladies. The boys rested on their haunches, slowly sucking on the betel quids stuck into their cheeks, occasionally emitting a stream of red spittle, staring at Charlotte’s white skin and the curious foreign tuans.

  Finally, as rain began to fall, the Duke’s coach appeared in the distance and upon reaching the village, swept through, spraying muddy water, and halted at the contingent of soldiers gathered further down the road. Nathanial helped Charlotte and Takouhi into their carriage hurriedly, and in the storm, they approached the now rain-soaked group of men on horseback gathered in formation by the roadside

  The commander of the Javanese troops stood for some time talking, as they discovered, to the Assistant Resident of Surakarta and the Javanese Regent, who had arrived with his large entourage. They greeted the Duke, who did not deign to leave his carriage. The Dutch, Charlotte had read, ruled the vast countryside through the Regents of the districts, who controlled the villages and assured the payment of taxes and carrying out of work duties. In return, they were paid a salary and a percentage of the crops. They also, Nathanial had added, forced their own compulsory labour duties and were heavily involved in black-market trading. Never, however, even in the face of the most wholesale and obvious corruption, was a noble dismissed from office.

  As they watched from a distance, Nathanial suddenly, vehemently, spoke his thoughts aloud. “Look at them! It is this greedy collusion between the Dutch and the Javanese nobility which conspires to deprive the peasantry of all freedom and spirit.”

  Finally, as the rain lessened they were all pulled into strict order of precedence, with Nathanial, Charlotte and Takouhi bringing up the rear. They moved off slowly. Long before they could see Surakarta, each side of the road was lined with spearmen in rich dress, banners streaming, the gamelan playing at intervals near gold, three-tiered, silk-fringed royal umbrellas. Amongst this pomp and splendour, the villagers, awed, dropped to their haunches as the procession passed. It was rich and impressive, and Charlotte suspected that had she been a local peasant, she, too, would have done the same.

  17

  The Resident, Colonel Helvetius Snijthoff, came out to greet His Serene Highness, who, with great difficulty and many curses, was descending from the coach, evidently stiff and grumpy from the journey. The Javanese escort had disappeared. Nathanial presented their passports and letters of accreditation, which the Resident handed to his secretary, and refreshments were immediately served. After luncheon, attended by the garrison commander and other European residents, Charlotte, Takouhi and Nathanial went to the hotel.

  The Hotel der Nederlanden was a large, commodious building of brick and shingle, raised from the ground on pillars and surrounded on all sides, for coolness, by a deep verandah and shaded by a banyan. This tree and others in the extensive garden were home to thousands of black and red Java sparrows and the noise of their twitterings, especially at dusk, was deafening. When they rose occasionally, startled, from the trees, they darkened the sky, and the sound of their wings resembled a violent gale.

  After a refreshing interval in the cool waters of the hotel bathhouse, all three were glad to retire to their rooms, for the day had grown humid and the heat intolerable. Surakarta stood in a depression, and the natural heat of the day was thereby intensified. Charlotte, exhausted, slumbered to a chorus of cicadas and the croaky cry of the pretty green chick-chack.

  When she awoke, it was to a knock at the door and the arrival of tea. She joined Takouhi and Nathanial on the verandah. It was half past four. They were expected at the Residence at seven o’clock for a visit to the palace.

  The hotel keeper’s wife joined them, and Charlotte thought she might never meet such a creature again. A mestizo woman of Portuguese-Malay blood, she was in every respect pleasant, if a little raucous and inclined to chatter, which Charlotte put down to a lack of companionship in this stuffy, class-obsessed outpost. It was not her nature but her appearance which gave, at first look, cause for some alarm. She possessed only one good eye and one good ear. Where the others ought to have been were thick scars, and there was a long gash from forehead to jaw. She had been attacked by a pirate band whilst travelling with her father many years ago, she told them. Marauding pirates were the scourge of the seas, bursting out of the endless bays and rivers hidden by jungle growth to prey upon the ships and boats which constantly ploughed along the north coast of Java or to and fro from the myriad islands of the Nusantara, the sprawling archipelago.

  Her father, the captain of the ship, his crew and herself had put up a spirited fight against the band of Bugis dogs, she related—for she was handy with a sword. They finally managed to kill the leader, but not before she had received a blow on the face which had left her like this.

  She took a large swig of gin and bitters, for tea was not a drink which had found favour with her. One could not help but like her buccaneer spirit, which had seemingly never faded. The married life apparently agreed with her, for she had had seven husbands, all seamen, but had given up the ocean life when she married her present spouse and they moved here. She had had eight children, all born at sea.

  The Dutch government needed people to run the inns and staging posts of the interior and paid them well for their labours. This was a subject which exercised Nathanial’s opinions as much as the excessive and vexatious use of passports. This circumstance of the State paying the innkeeper instead of the innkeeper paying the State was conclusive proof, to his English mind, that government monopolies do not work.

  “The only roads not impassable for half the year are the government roads.” he said. “Upon these the ordinary agriculturist is not permitted to travel. Though they built these fine highways, the hard-working Javanese are forced to travel with their heavy buffalo carts over tracks no better than ploughed fields. It is a brutal and incomprehensible tyranny.

  “Two Java rupees per mile,” he expostulated. “Had the island remained in British possession, how different things would have been. English capital and English enterprise would have destroyed monopolies, and competition would have long since lowered the extravagantly high expense of posting to a rate within the means of all classes, including one so indispensable as the growers of produce. Why the government cannot see that the whole system is rotten is beyond me. There never was a more foolish decision made than to give this country back to the hard, grasping hand of the Dutch.”

  Nathanial was about to continue when they were interrupted by Captain Palmer and three companions. Nathanial had known the American would be joining them here, but could not repress a scowl.

  Captain Palmer went immediately to the ladies and shook Nathanial’s hand. Palmer was very happy to see Mrs Manouk, although she looked a little pale. Still, such beauty. It filled a man with lubricious thoughts.

  Charlotte knew one of the three men. Owen Roberts, a merchant at Batavia and the current American consul, had attended her wedding reception at the Harmonie Club. He was a quiet-spoken, thoughtful man. He talked of his interest in promoting the import of American ice to Batavia as agent for the Tudor Ice Company. When his English companions, in the oppressive heat of the Surakarta afternoon, laughed gaily at such an outlandish thought, he was rather affronted and told them that ice had been very successfully introduced into Calcutta many years before. He then fell silent.

  Palmer introduced Mr Clay, an American merchant involved in the sale of Appalachian ginseng to China. It was a very lucrative trade, Mr Clay was happy to tell them, and one which had helped in large part to finance the American Revolutionary Wars. Even today, it was America’s greatest export to China. Mr Clay was based in Canton but was presently on his way back to America and doing a little travelling in the country.
Spying, Nathanial thought, but said nothing. Charlotte had some difficulty understanding him. He came from a place called Kentucky.

  Mr Ruschenberger was a ship’s surgeon with the United States Medical Corps. American bottoms carried a large part of the coffee and sugar exports both to Europe and to America. The Dutch had found them useful during the English blockade, for the Royal Navy did not attack American ships. Currently the ships travelled constantly to China and all the countries of the South Seas and represented a commerce of at least ten million dollars. He regretted that the United States provided no naval support for such American fleets, which were constantly at risk from piracy. He had sailed to seek a treaty for the American government with the King of Siam in 1835 and had subsequently completed a journey around the world. He was currently chronicling this mission for publication. He had joined Captain Palmer to visit the famed Javanese courts, about which he had read in both Raffles’s and Crawfurd’s account of the archipelago.

  In the rather stuffy atmosphere of a Java outstation, Charlotte was glad of their company, for they were easygoing and enjoyable. She sensed, however, that Nathanial was not of the same mind.

  By and by, the evening grew cooler and everyone separated to prepare for what they all felt sure would be a remarkable encounter with royal Javanese life.

  They gathered at the Residency. It was the occasion of the Susunan’s birthday. Charlotte and Takouhi had dressed very carefully in robes brought for this occasion. They were of the very finest materials which Tigran could buy. Charlotte had chosen a powder blue silk with dark blue velvet trim to wear with the ice blue diamonds Tigran had given her. Takouhi, too, was in European dress, pale green and gold.

  Charlotte detected a certain ambivalence in this visit, as if her friend did not quite know where she belonged. Charlotte had always thought of Takouhi, in some manner, as straddling both sides of this extraordinary society with ease but, here in the princely dominions, that was clearly not so. It was as if she had suddenly to confront the truth of her origins and for the first time question her allegiances.

  Whilst they waited for the arrival of the Susunan’s state carriage, which would, so they were told, lead them to the palace, Charlotte and Nathanial examined their fellow guests. The Duke was seated on a red velvet chair, dressed, they began to imagine, entirely for their amusement. The dark blue serge served as the basis for an alarming array of gold buttons, braid and cords which hung from his shoulders and arms. Every inch of his ample chest and protuberant belly was festooned with medals. A wide sash fell from shoulder to waist, from which dangled a long gold scabbard. His black cockade hat, frilled with gold feathers, hung in a great arc before his eyes and down to his shoulders. Charlotte and Nathanial were delighted to see that, even on this royal occasion, the Duke had not changed his footwear, and the same ragged velvet slippers peeped from under his uniform. The probability of his rising without difficulty was slim, and they both looked forward to it with eagerness.

  The Resident was dressed in a rather muted version of the Duke’s dress, though he was slimmer. Mevrouw Snijthoff, a plain woman with sallow skin, wore a splendid, if somewhat old-fashioned, gown of deep blue silk with pearls. The Americans wore dark tail coats and breeches with frilled undershirts. Nathanial had dressed as informally as he dared without risking ejection and occasionally threw glances at Charlotte, who, he thought, was tonight more lovely than Venus. Her colour had revived and her skin carried a glow. Her eyes were set off by the blue diamonds she wore. Her hair had been dressed with blue velvet ribbon and arranged becomingly high on her head. It was difficult to drag his eyes off her.

  They were standing together in order to comment wittily on their companions, and she occasionally put her fan in front of her mouth, moving it gently, to muffle their conversation.

  The fan was made of sandalwood and black japan lacquer and emitted a heady perfume at each movement. When he leaned forward to listen to her, he found himself befogged in this bewitching aroma, watching her pink lips, and suddenly found her presence desperately and uncomfortably arousing. Only when he saw Captain Palmer, Mr Clay and several others in the Duke’s party ogling her in the same manner did he scowl and stop acting like a fool.

  A flourish of gongs and trumpets brought all conversation to an end, for it announced the arrival of the Susunan’s carriage. It somewhat resembled an English post-chaise, what the French called a diligence à l’anglaise, large wheels at the back and smaller at the front, carved and gilt and somewhat worse for wear, Charlotte thought. The coachman wore a sarong with a scarlet coat and hat. Over the carriage floated two tiered, gold payongs, the umbrellas of state, which indicated the presence, even incorporeally, of the Susunan. Preceding the coach came several dozen nobles who formed a double line through which the carriage passed. The Susunan’s minister brought forward a gold salver. Upon it was a letter wrapped in yellow silk.

  The Resident took it and, in its place, put the letters of introduction from his guests. The minister placed the salver inside the coach and with a flourish of trumpets marched out of the Resident’s compound, leaving the Resident’s party to follow the state coach to the palace.

  Nathanial and Charlotte held their breath as the Duke roused himself. He made to rise, rocking slightly. The Resident looked straight ahead, then glanced down to the Duke. The rocking resumed more vigorously, this time with two servants holding him under the arms. The Resident continued to wait. Finally the Duke managed, with a loud grunt and several curses, to rise to his feet; the Resident gave him a stiff little smile and bowed slightly. He motioned for the Duke to go ahead of him down the steps of the verandah.

  Although the Duke had managed to steady himself quite adequately, the long, dangling scabbard had not. As he took a step it swung, swiping the servant and causing him to drop his supporting arm. The Duke, suddenly deprived of one pillar of support stumbled; his cockade hat fell over his eyes and he grabbed at the first person to hand, which, unfortunately, was the Resident. At the same time, the scabbard made an arc and struck the Resident on the leg. All the prayers of heaven could not stop what happened next, and when it was over, both the Duke and the Resident were tangled in a mass of dusty gold braid and upturned swords at the foot of the steps.

  As a crowd rushed forward to raise the two dignitaries from the ground, Charlotte and Nathanial retreated quickly, stifling their laughter. Fortunately, in all the fuss and bother their merriment went undetected.

  Their departure was delayed whilst the men were led from sight and cleaned up. After a while, Captain Palmer came to find Charlotte and Nathanial, smiling, to tell them they had been asked to mount their carriages. Before Nathanial could move, Palmer took Charlotte’s arm, and tucking it intimately into his own, led her back to the verandah before helping her, his hand on her waist, into the carriage. Before releasing her, he brought her hand to his lips, holding the kiss too long. Nathanial glowered, Takouhi frowned and Charlotte blushed. When the Resident returned, his face was red with repressed fury. The Duke, who had survived the fall surprisingly well, had been installed, with a flow of curses, in the coach, and the procession moved off to the sound of trumpets.

  With flaming torches and lanterns aloft, they passed at a funeral pace around the high walls of the fort and entered the walled plain before the palace, where the imperial guard was drawn up under arms. They were somewhat shabbily dressed and armed with muskets. The royal flag was lowered as the carriages passed.

  As they stopped at the principal entrance to the Palace, the gamelan burst forth in a wild flourish. The walls were ablaze with lanterns. Chiefs, lined up on either side, lowered their spears in salute as the visitors passed. Inside the gate, the entire party, preceded by a liveried guard of honour, made their way slowly through the maze of lamp-flickering courtyards and gateways. Here and there, half-shadowy figures appeared from the carved walls, the face of the Kala, with its grotesque teeth and tongue, smiling at them as they passed. In one courtyard, in a blaze of light, a band of Ja
vanese musicians struck up an endearing if rather clumsy rendition of William of Nassau, the national air of the Netherlands. In others, they saw displays of French clocks, Venetian crystal, Spanish furniture, Dutch paintings. Relations between the Resident and the Susunan, Nathanial explained, involved a never-ending exchange of gifts, though whilst the Resident might present the king with a handmade Persian carpet, the king might return this largesse with the gift of two unusually shaped mangoes! This long transit on foot from carriage to throne room, he added, was calculated to aggravate and tire his often overdressed Dutch guests, a small revenge.

  In the Duke’s case it was successful, for he was dripping with sweat, tiring fast and the occasional Kreuzmillionen! Donnerwetter! reverberated around the corridors.

  The Resident was finally greeted by two very old female attendants of the Susunan, who shook hands with him without speaking and led him into the royal presence. Finally, Charlotte thought, after this wearying, twilight journey, they would see the king, and she turned to Nathanial excitedly. He smiled but felt Palmer’s eyes on Charlotte like some predatory reptile’s. Really, he disliked this man.

  18

  His Majesty, the Susunan of Surakarta, was seated under the lofty square roof of the royal pendopo, which was resplendent with crystal chandeliers and Javanese lanterns. A carved wooden canopy of gilt and red hung from the roof above the throne. The throne was more like a large stool, in truth, but wrought entirely of silver. To one side stood two chairs, clearly set there for the principal guests, and on the other side was a table on which stood the royal regalia, the crown jewels, as it were, of Java. There were gold bowls and salvers, figurines of an elephant, a serpent, a bull, a deer, the royal betel box and spitting pot. Next to this were two more chairs, one occupied by a very small, fine-boned woman dressed in a shimmering bodice and sarong made of songket, a cloth of silk woven with silver and golden threads. Rows of chairs formed an aisle before the throne, one side occupied by royal princes, the other empty. Behind these chairs, on the ground, sat the rest of the court.