Max Havelaar (Nahuijs)/Chapter 19
[Composed by Stern.]
In the private letter which Mr. Slymering sent to Havelaar, he communicated to him, that he, notwithstanding his pressing business, would come the next day to Rankas-Betong, to deliberate on what ought to be done. Havelaar, who knew what such a deliberation meant—his predecessor had so often deliberated with the Resident of Bantamwrote the following letter, which he sent to meet the Resident, and be read by him before his arrival at Lebak:—
| “No. 91. | Private. |
| Immediate. |
“Rankas-Betong,
25th Feb. 1856, 11 P.M.
“Yesterday at 12 o'clock, I had the honour to send you my missive (Immediate, No. 88) containing in substance—
“That I, after a long investigation, and after having tried in vain to bring back by moderation the party concerned from his perversity, felt myself obliged by my official oath to accuse the Regent of Lebak of abuse of power, and to add that I suspected him of extortion. I have taken the liberty to propose to you in that letter, to summon that native chief to Serang, in order to examine after his departure, and after the corrupting influence of his extensive family had been neutralized, whether my accusation and suspicion were well founded.
“Long, or to speak more accurately, much have I reflected before determining upon this.
“I took care to let you know that I have endeavoured, by exhortation and threats, to save the old Regent from misfortune and shame, and myself from the deep regret of having been the immediate cause of his troubles.
“But on the other hand, I saw the (for many years) plundered and much oppressed population. I thought of the necessity of an example—for I shall have to report to you many more vexations,—if, at least this affair, by its reaction makes no end of them,—and, I repeat it, after mature consideration, I did what I thought to be my duty.
“I have just received your kind and esteemed private letter communicating that you will come here to-morrow, and at the same time a hint that I ought to have treated this affair privately at first. To-morrow I shall therefore have the honour to see you, and it is exactly on that account that I have taken the liberty to send you this letter, to add, before our meeting, the following considerations:—
“All my investigations about the Regent were quite secret; only he and the Patteh (Adjutant of the Regent) know it, for I myself had frankly warned him. Even the Controller knows only a part of my investigations. This secrecy had a double aim. At first when I still hoped to bring back the Regent to the right way, it was my object if I succeeded not to compromise him. The Patteh thanked me in the name of the Regent for this discretion. (It was on the 12th inst.) But afterwards when I began to despair of the success of my endeavours—or rather, when the measure of my indignation overflowed on hearing of a recent occurrence;—when a longer silence would have become participation as an accomplice—then that secrecy would have been to my advantage; for I too have to fulfil duties towards my household and myself.
“For after writing my letter of yesterday, I should be unworthy to serve the Government, if what I wrote down then was vain, unfounded, or invented. And would or will it be possible to me to prove that I have done what a good Assistant Resident ought to do—to prove that I am not unworthy the functions which I have received;—to prove that I do not risk thoughtlessly and rashly my seventeen hard years in the service of the Government, and, what is of more importance still, the interest of wife and child—will it be possible for me to prove all this, unless deep secrecy does not hide my investigations, and prevent the criminal from concealing himself?
“At the least suspicion the Regent would send an express to his nephew, who is coming here, and whose interest it is to maintain him, at any sacrifice, and to distribute money with a profuse hand to every one whom he had recently swindled, the consequence would be (I need not say will be) that I have passed a rash judgment, and am an unserviceable functionary, not to say worse.
“To prevent that result I write this letter. I have the highest esteem for you; but I know the spirit of East Indian functionaries, and I do not possess that spirit.
“Your hint that it would have been better to have treated the affair privately at first, makes me apprehensive of such a course. What I said in my missive of yesterday is true; but perhaps it would seem untrue if the affair was treated in such a manner as would reveal my accusation and suspicion before the removal of the Regent. I may not conceal from you that even your unexpected arrival in connexion with the express sent by me yesterday to Serang, gives me reason to fear that the accused, who would not listen to my exhortations, will now awake too soon, and endeavour, if possible, tant soit peu to exculpate himself.
“I have the honour to say that I still refer literally to my missive of yesterday; but I take the liberty to observe that this missive contained a proposal to remove the Regent before the investigation, and previously to make his adherents harmless; and at the same time that I believe myself to be no further responsible for what I advanced, than so far as you may be pleased to agree to my proposition as regards the manner of investigation—that it should be impartial, open, and above all, free.
“This liberty cannot exist before the removal of the Regent; and according to my humble opinion, there is nothing dangerous in that; as he can be told that I accuse him and suspect him, that I am in danger, and not he, in the event of his innocence being established:—for I myself am of opinion that I ought to be dismissed, if it shall appear that I have acted precipitately or rashly.
“Precipitately! . . . After years and years of abuses!
“Rashly! . . . as if an honest man could sleep, and live, and enjoy, while they, over whose welfare he is called upon to watch, who are in the highest sense his neighhours, suffer extortion and injustice!
“I have been here, it is true, but a short time. I hope, however, that the question will for once be, what has been done, if anything has been well done, and not whether it has been done in too short a time. For me, every moment is too long, when characterized by extortion and oppression, and every second weighs heavy on me that is passed in misery by my negligence, by my ‘spirit of arranging.’
“I regret the days which I allowed to pass away before reporting to you officially, and I apologize for that neglect.
“I have taken the liberty to request you to give me the opportunity to justify my letter of yesterday, and to guarantee me against the miscarriage of my endeavours to free the province of Lebak from the worms which have gnawed, since the memory of man, at its welfare.
“It is therefore that I have again taken the liberty of asking you to approve my action, which consists only of investigating, reporting, and proposing to remove the Regent of Lebak, without direct or indirect notice beforehand; and moreover to order an investigation to take place of what I communicated in my letter of yesterday, No. 88.—The Assistant Resident of Lebak,
This request, not to take the criminals under his protection, the Resident received on the way. An hour after his arrival at Rankas-Betong, he paid a visit to the Regent, and asked him whether he could “say anything to the prejudice of the Assistant Resident,” and whether he, the Regent, “wanted money.” To the first question the Regent replied, “I have nothing against him! I can solemnly swear to that!” The second question he answered in the affirmative, whereupon the Resident gave him a couple of bank-notes.
It may be understood that Havelaar knew nothing of this. We shall see by and by how he became acquainted with so shameful a transaction.
When the Resident Slymering entered Havelaar’s house, he was paler than usual, and the intervals between his words were longer than ever. It was indeed no small thing for a person who so excelled in arranging and making out the yearly reports of “tranquillity,” to receive so unexpectedly letters in which there was no trace either of optimism or of artificial colouring, or of fear of the disapprobation of the Government.
The Resident of Bantam was in a fright; and if I may be forgiven the ignoble comparison for the sake of exactness, I feel inclined to liken him to a little street-boy who complains of the violation of old customs, because he has been beaten without previous abusive language.
He began by asking the Controller why the latter had not endeavoured to restrain Havelaar from his accusation? Poor Verbrugge, who was entirely unacquainted with the circumstances, said so, but was not believed. Mr. Slymering could not believe that any person without assistance could do his duty in such a manner. As Verbrugge, however, maintained his ignorance, the Resident began to read Havelaar’s letters.
What Verbrugge suffered in listening is indescribable. He was an honest man, and would not have lied if Havelaar had appealed to him to confirm the truth of the contents of these letters. But even without that honesty, he had not always been able to avoid the truth in many written reports, even where it was dangerous to tell it. How would it be if Havelaar made use of those reports?
After having read these letters, the Resident said that, if Havelaar chose to recall these documents, it would be agreeable to him to consider them as not written, which Havelaar firmly but politely refused.
Having in vain tried to move him to this, the Resident said that he must investigate the charges, and that he had therefore to request Havelaar to summon the witnesses in support of the accusation he had brought against the Regent.
Ye poor creatures, whose sides had been wounded by the thorns in the ravine, how anxiously would your hearts have beaten if you could have heard this request!
And you, poor Verbrugge, you first witness, chief witness, ex officio witness, a witness in virtue of office and oath, a witness who had already borne witness on paper, which lay there on the table under Havelaar’s hand! . . . .
Havelaar replied:—
“Mr. Resident,—I am Assistant Resident of Lebak; I have promised to protect the population from extortion and tyranny; I accuse the Regent and his son-in-law of Parang-Koodjang; I will prove my accusation as soon as that opportunity is given me, which I proposed in my letters. I am guilty of slander if this accusation is false!”
How freely Verbrugge breathed again!
And how strange the Resident thought Havelaar’s words.
The conversation lasted long. With politeness, for Slymering was polite and well-bred,—he urged Havelaar to turn aside from such wrong principles; but with as much politeness the latter remained immoveable. The result was, that the Resident had to yield, in saying as a threat, what was to Havelaar a victory, that he should be compelled to bring the matter under the notice of the Government.
The meeting was ended. The Resident paid the visit to the Regent, to put to him the questions already mentioned, and then dined at the scanty board of the Havelaars, after which he returned in great haste to Serang, “becausehehadstillsomuchtodo.”
The next day Havelaar received a letter from the Resident of Bantam, the contents of which may be understood from the reply, of which I here give a copy:—
“No. 93.—Private.
“I have had the honour to receive your missive of the 26th inst. (La. O, private), containing mainly the following:—
“That you had reasons for not accepting the proposals made in both my official letters of the 24th and 25th inst., Nos. 88 and 91;
“That you had desired a previous confidential communication;
“That you do not approve of my transactions described in both those letters;
“And lastly, some orders.
“I have now the honour again to assert, as I did verbally in the meeting of the day before yesterday:—
“That I fully respect the legality of your power as regards deciding whether to accept my proposition or not:—
“That the orders received shall with exactness be obeyed—with self-sacrifice, if need be, as if you were present to witness all I do or say, or, more properly, all I do not do or do not say.
“I know that you place confidence in my good faith in this matter.
“But I take the liberty solemnly to protest against the least semblance of disapprobation of any action, any word, any phrase, done, spoken, or written by me in this matter. I am convinced that I have done my duty:—in my object and in the manner of executing it quite my duty;—nothing but my duty, without the least deviation.
“I have long pondered before acting (that is: before examining, reporting, and proposing), and if I have been “to a certain extent mistaken in anything,—my fault was not precipitancy.
“In the same circumstances I should do againyet a little quickerexactly, exactly the same.
“Even if it happened that a higher power than yours disapproved anything which I did,-(except perhaps the peculiarity of my style, which is a part of myself, a defect for which I am as little responsible as a stammerer for his defect;)—even if that happened. . . . but no, that cannot be, even if it were so, . . . . I have done my duty.
“Certainly I am sorry—yet without being astonished,—that you judge differently of this; and as far as regards myself, I should rely upon what appears to me to be a slightbut there is a question about a principle, and I have conscientious reasons which require that it shall be decided which opinion is correct, yours or mine.
“Serve otherwise than I served at Lebak, I cannot.
“If the Government desires to be served otherwise, then I shall be obliged as an honest man to ask the Government to discharge me;—then I must endeavour, at the age of thirty-six years, to commence a new career;—then I, after seventeen years, after seventeen heavy difficult years of service as a functionary, after having devoted the best of my lifetime to what I considered to be my duty, then I must again ask society for bread, if if will give me bread, for my wife and child—bread in exchange for thoughts—bread perhaps in exchange for labour with spade or wheelbarrow, if the strength of my arm is approved more than that of my soul.
“But I cannot and will not believe that your opinion is shared by his Excellency the Governor-General, and I am therefore compelled, before I pass to the bitter extreme of what I wrote in the last paragraph, to beg you respectfully to propose to the Government:
“To order the Resident of Bantam to approve so far the transactions of the Assistant Resident of Lebak, including his letters of the 24th and 25th inst., Nos. 88 and 91;—
“Or:
“To call the above-mentioned Assistant Resident to account on the points of disapprobation to be given by the Resident of Bantam.
“I have, finally, the honour to give you the grateful assurance that if anything could bring me back from my long calculated, and calm but fervently adhered to principles in this,—it would have been indeed the polite, engaging manner in which you, at the meeting of the day before yesterday, opposed those principles.—The Assistant Resident of Lebak,
Without deciding as to the correctness of the suspicions of Slotering’s widow, concerning the cause which made her children orphans, and only accepting what may be proved, that there was a strong connexion in Lebak between fulfilment of duty and poison—even if that connexion existed only in public opinion—yet it may be conceived, that Max and Tine passed sorrowful days after the visit of the Resident. I believe that I need not paint the anguish of a mother, who, when offering food to her child, has continually to ask whether she is not perhaps murdering her darling?
And certainly little Max was an “adored child,” who had stayed away seven years after the marriage, as if the rogue knew that it was no advantage to come into the world as the son of such parents.
Twenty-nine long days had Havelaar to wait before the Governor-General communicated with him, . . . .
But we are not yet so far.
A short time after the vain endeavour to move Havelaar to withdraw his letters, or to betray the poor people who had confided in his magnanimity, Verbrugge entered Havelaar’s house. The good man was deadly pale, and had some difficulty in speaking.
“I have been with the Regent,” he said; “it is scandalous, . . . but do not betray me!”
“What? What must I not betray?”
“Do you pledge me your word to make no use of what I shall tell you?”
“More halfness,” said Havelaar; “but well! I pledge my word.”
And then Verbrugge told Havelaar what the reader knows already,—that the Resident had asked the Regent, if the latter could say anything against the Assistant Resident, and had quite unexpectedly given him money. At the same time Verbrugge knew it from the Regent himself, who had asked him what reasons the Resident could have had for this.
Havelaar was indignant, but he had pledged his word.
The next day Verbrugge returned and said that Duclari had told him how ignoble it was to leave Havelaar, who had to fight such opponents, so completely alone, whereupon Verbrugge released him from his pledge.
“Very well,” said Havelaar, “write it down.”
Verbrugge wrote it down. This declaration is likewise before me.
The reader will have long understood why I renounced so cheaply any pretensions to authenticity in the history of Saïdjah.
It was touching to observe how Verbrugge—timorous before he was awakened by the reproaches of Duclari—dared to trust Havelaar’s pledged word, in a matter which so induced violation of it!
And another thing. Years have passed since the events which I relate. Havelaar has suffered much during this time, he has seen the suffering of his household—the documents which lie before me bear witness of this, and it seems that he has waited. . . . I give the following note from his hand:—“I read in the newspapers that Mr. Slymering has been made Knight of the Order of the Dutch Lion. He appears to be now Resident of Djocjocarta. I can therefore now speak of the affairs of Lebak without danger to Verbrugge.”