Max Havelaar (Nahuijs)/Chapter 8

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Max Havelaar; or, the Coffee Auctions of the Dutch Trading Company (1868)
by Multatuli, translated by Alphonse Nahuijs
Chapter 8
Multatuli4107320Max Havelaar; or, the Coffee Auctions of the Dutch Trading Company — Chapter 81868Alphonse Nahuijs

Chapter VIII.

[Continuation of Stern’s composition.]

Havelaar had requested the Controller to invite the chiefs, who were at Rankas-Betong to stay there till the next day to be present at the Sebah (council) which he intended to convene. Such a council generally took place once a month; but either because he wished to spare some chiefs who lived very far from the capital the unnecessary journey to and fro, or because he wished to speak to them immediately impressively, and without waiting for the appointed day, he chose the next morning for the first Sebah.

To the left of his mansion, but in the same grounds, and opposite the house which Madam Slotering occupied, stood a building, part of which was used for the offices of the Assistant Resident, where was also the Treasury. This building contained a large open gallery, which made it a very good place for such a council. There the chiefs assembled betimes in the morning. Havelaar entered, saluted, and sat down. He received the written reports on agriculture, police, and justice, and put them aside for after examination.

Every one expected an address such as the Resident had delivered the day before, and it was not quite certain that Havelaar himself intended to say anything else to the chiefs; but you ought to have seen him on such occasions to conceive how he, at speeches like those, grew excited, and, through his peculiar way of speaking, communicated a new colour to the most common things; how he became taller, so to speak, how his glance shot fire, how his voice passed from a flattering softness to a lancet sharpness, how the metaphors flowed from his lips, as if he was scattering some precious commodity round about him, which, however, cost him nothing, and how, when he ceased, every one looked at him with an open mouth, as if asking, “Good God! who are you?”

It is true that he himself who spoke on such occasions as an apostle, as a seer, afterwards did not exactly know how he had spoken, and his eloquence was therefore more powerful to astonish and to touch, than to convince by solid argument. He would have excited the martial spirit of the Athenians to frenzy as soon as they had decided to go to war with Philip; but he would not have succeeded so well, if it had been his task to incite them to this war through cogency of reasoning. His harangue to the chiefs of Lebak was of course in Malay,—a circumstance which added greatly to its effect, because the simplicity of the Oriental tongues gives to many expressions a force which has been lost in the greater formality of the languages of the West; whilst, on the other hand, it is difficult to render the sweetness of the Malay in any other language. We must, moreover, take into consideration, that the greater part of his listeners consisted of simple, but not at all stupid men, and at the same time Orientals, whose impressions differ considerably from our own.

Havelaar spoke almost as follows:—

“Mr, Radeen Adhipatti,[1] Regent of Bantam-Kidool,[2] and you Radeens Demang, that are chiefs of the districts of this province, and you Radeen Djaksa, administrator of justice, and you too, Radeen Kliwon, governor of the chief town, and you Radeens, Mantries, and all that are chiefs in the district of Bantam-Kidool——I salute you.

“And I tell you that I feel joy in my heart when I see you all assembled, and listening to the words of my mouth.

“I know that there are amongst you men who excel in knowledge and goodness of heart: I hope to enlarge my knowledge by contact with yours; for it is not so great as I should wish; and I certainly love probity, but I perceive that there are often in my soul faults that overshadow the probity, and hinder the growth; for you know how the large tree pushes away and kills the little tree. Therefore I shall look to those amongst you who excel in virtue, to try to become better than I am.

“I heartily salute you all.

“When the Governor-General commanded me to come to you as Assistant Resident in this district, my heart rejoiced. You know that I had never set foot on Bantam-Kidool; therefore I have obtained information about your district, and have seen that there is much good in Bantam-Kidool. Your people possess rice-fields in the valleys, and there are rice-fields on the mountains. And you wish to live in peace, and you do not desire to live in those districts that are inhabited by other persons. Yes, I know that there is much good in Bantam-Kidool.

“But not on that account alone did my heart rejoice; for elsewhere, also, I should have found much good.

“But I discovered that your population is poor, and therefore I rejoiced with all my soul.

“For I know that Allah loves the poor, and that He gives riches to whomsoever He will try; but to the poor He sends all who speak His word, that they may rise in the midst of their misery.

“Does not He give rain when the blade would otherwise wither, and a dewdrop in the cup of the thirsty flower?

“And is it not sublime to be sent to seek them that are weary, who have lingered behind after the work and have fallen down exhausted on the road, because their knees were not strong enough to carry them to the place where they should receive their wages? Should not I be glad to give a helping hand to him who tumbled into the ditch, and a staff to him who climbs the mountains?

“Should not my heart leap with joy when it sees that I have been selected amongst many to turn lamentation into prayer, weeping into thanksgiving?

“Yes, I am very glad to be in Bantam-Kidool.

“I said to the woman who shares my sorrows and increases my happiness:—

“ ‘Rejoice, for I see that Allah gives a blessing on the head of our child! He has sent me to a place where work is to be done, and He thought me worthy to be there before harvest-time. For the joy is not in cutting paddy;[3] the joy is in cutting the paddy which one has planted. And the soul of man does not rejoice in wages, but in the labour that earns those wages.’ And I said to her: ‘Allah has given us a child; and there will come a time when he shall say: “Do you know that I am his son?” and then there will be those in the country who will greet him with love, who will put a hand on his head and say: “Sit down to our dinner, and live in our house, and take your portion of what we have; for we knew your father.” ’

“For, chiefs of Lebak, there is much to be done in your district.

“Tell me, is not the labourer poor? Does not your paddy often ripen for those who did not plant it? Are there not many wrongs in your country? Is not the number of your children small?

“Is there no shame in your souls when the natives of Bolang, which lies over there in the East, visit your country, and ask, ‘Where are the villages, and where the husbandmen, and why do not I hear the gamlang,[4] which speaks joy out of a mouth of brass, nor the stamping of paddy by your daughters?’

“Is there no bitterness in journeying from here to the South coast, in seeing the mountains that have no water on their sides, or the plains where the buffalo never drew the plough?

“Yes, yes, I tell you, that your soul and mine are sad because of these things; and, therefore, we are grateful to Allah, that He has given us the power to labour here.

“For we have in this country fields for many, though the inhabitants are few. And it is not the rain which fails, for the summits of the mountains suck the clouds of heaven to the earth. And not everywhere are rocks that refuse a place to the root; for in many places the ground is soft and fertile, and calls for the grain, which it is willing to return you in a bended blade. And there is no war in the country, whereby the paddy is trodden down while yet green, nor is there sickness to paralyse the patjol.[5] Neither are the sunbeams more powerful than is necessary to ripen the grain, that has to be food for you and your children; nor banjers,[6] that make you say, ‘Show me the place where I have sown.’

“Where Allah sends inundations that wash away the fields; where He hardens the ground as barren stones; where He makes the sun burn even to scorching; where He sends war to devastate the fields; where He slays with diseases, that make the hands weak, or with dryness that kills the corn——there, chiefs of Lebak, we bend our heads, and say: ‘His will be done!’

“But it is not so in Bantam-Kidool.

“I have been sent here to be your friend, your elder brother. Should not you warn your younger brother, if you saw a tiger in his way?

“Chiefs of Lebak, we have often committed faults, and our country is poor, because we have committed so many faults.

“For in Tjikandi, Bolang, and Krawang, in the regions round about Batavia, there are many men who were born in our country, and who have left our country.

“Why do they seek labour far from the place where they buried their parents? Why have they fled from the village where they were circumcised? Why do they prefer the coolness of the tree that grows there, to the shade of our woods?

“And even there to the North-West, over the sea, are many who ought to be our children, but who have left Lebak to wander in foreign countries with Kris,[7] and Klewang,[8] and gun! And there they die miserably; for the Government has power to beat the rebels.

“I ask you, chiefs of Lebak, why have many gone away, not to be buried where they were born? Why does the tree ask, ‘Where is the man whom I saw playing at my foot when a child ?’ ”

Havelaar waited here for a moment. To understand in some degree the impression which his words made, one ought to have heard and seen him. When he spoke of his child, there was a softness in his voice, something that was extremely touching, and which allured you to ask, “Where is the little one? I will at once kiss the child, that made his father speak so;” but when he soon afterwards passed with little order to the questions why Lebak was poor, and why so many inhabitants of these regions removed to other places, there was in his tone something which made you think of the noise that a drill makes when forcibly turned in hard wood. Yet he did not speak very loud, neither did he put any stress on certain words; there was even something monotonous in his voice, but whether studied or natural, which by this very monotony made the impression of his words stronger on minds that were so particularly sensitive to such a language. His metaphors, which he always borrowed from the life that surrounded him, were to him as allies to make what he meant perfectly understood, and not, as often happens, troublesome appendages, which burden the phrases of orators, without adding any plainness to the conception of what is meant to be illustrated. We are now-a-days accustomed to the absurdity of the expression “Strong as a lion;” but he who first used this metaphor in Europe, showed that he had not drawn the comparison from the poetry of the soul, which furnishes figures of speech, and cannot speak otherwise, but that he had simply copied this from some book,—from the Bible, perhaps,—in which a lion was mentioned. For none of his hearers ever tried the strength of the lion, and it would therefore have been rather necessary to make them estimate that strength, by comparing the lion to some other creature whose strength was known to them, than otherwise.

You see, that Havelaar was truly a poet, that he, speaking of the rice-fields, that were on the mountains, directed his eyes thither through the open side of the hall, and that he really stood there; and in the imagination of Havelaar’s hearers he really looked about and asked for the inhabitants of Lebak that had gone. He invented nothing; he heard the tree speak, and only thought that he repeated what he imagined to have heard so distinctly in his poetical inspiration.

Should any one, perhaps, be inclined to make the observation, that the originality of Havelaar’s manner of speaking is not so indisputable, as his language makes you think of the style of the prophets of the Old Testament, I must remind him of what I said before, that in moments of ecstasy he was indeed something of a seer, and that he, fed by the impressions communicated to him by living in forests and on mountains, and by the poesy-breathing atmosphere of the East, would probably not have spoken otherwise, even if he had never read the sublime poems of the Old Testament.

Do we not find, in the verses written by him in early youth, lines like the following, which were composed on the Salak—one of the highest summits of the Preangan Regencies,—in the exordium of which he displays the softness of his emotions, and then suddenly passes to the description of the thunder which he hears below him:—

’Tis sweeter here our Maker loud to praise:
Prayer sounds more beautiful among the hills
Than in the plains. Upon the mountain top
The heart is nearer to its God, who makes
Unto Himself an altar and a fane,
Unsullied by the foot of human pride.
’Tis here He makes the rattling tempest heard—
Summons His rolling thunder—Majesty!”

Do you not feel that he could not have written the last two lines if he had not really heard God’s thunder, dictating to him im reverberating crashes along the mountain sides?

But he did not like to write poetry; it was, as he said, “like putting on a stiff corset,” and when he was induced to read anything of what he had written, he took pleasure in abusing his own work, either by reading in a ridiculous tone, or by stopping short at a most solemn place, and throwing in a pun which shocked his hearers. This was nothing more than a satire upon the disproportion between his soul and the corset which confined it.

Havelaar had ordered by a sign the customary tea and sweetmeats; but few of the chiefs partook of the refreshments. It appears that he had paused with premeditation at the end of his speech; and there was a reason for it. What must the chiefs have thought of his knowing already that so many had left Lebak with bitterness in their hearts? of his knowing already how many families had emigrated to neighbouring countries to avoid the poverty that reigned here? and of his knowing the fact that there are so many Bantammers amongst the bands in revolt against the Dutch Government? What does he mean? what is he aiming at? who is concerned in his questions?

And some of them looked at the district chief of Parang-Koodjang. But most of them looked at the ground.

“Come here, Max,” said Havelaar, who perceived his child playing before the house, and the Adhipatti took the boy on his knee; but he was too wild to remain there long; he jumped away and ran round the large circle amusing the chiefs with his talk, and playing with the hilts of their weapons. When he came up to the Djaksa,[9] who excelled all the others in his uniform, and thereby attracted the child, the Djaksa showed something on little Max’s head to the Kliwon,[10] who sat near him, and who seemed to assent to an observation about it.

“Go away now, Max,” Havelaar said; “papa has something to say to these gentlemen,” and the little boy ran away, kissing his hands to them.

“Chiefs of Lebak! we are all of us in the service of the King of Holland. But he, who is just, and desires that we should perform our duty, is far from here. Thirty times a thousand thousand souls, nay more, are under his rule, but he cannot be near all of those who are dependent on his will.

“The Governor-General at Buitenzorg[11] is just, and desires that every one should do his duty; but powerful as he is, and commanding all authority in the cities, and the elders of the villages, and disposing of the army on land, and of the ships at sea, he likewise can no more than the King see where injustice has been done, for the injustice is far from him.

“And the Resident at Serang, who is lord of the Residency of Bantam, where live five times a hundred thousand men, desires that justice shall be done in his dominion, and that righteousness shall reign in those parts that obey him. But where injustice has been done he lives far from it, and whoever does wickedly, hides himself from his face because he fears punishment.

“And Mr. Adhipatti, who is Regent of South Bantam, wills that every one does good, and that there shall be no infamy in that country over which he is Regent.

“And I, who yesterday called God Almighty to witness that I would be just and merciful, that I would maintain justice without fear or hatred, that I would be ‘a good Assistant Resident,’ I wish to do my duty.

“Chiefs of Lebak! we all wish to do our duty.

“But if there should be amongst us any who neglect their duty for gain, who sell the Right for money, or who take away the buffalo from the poor, and bread from those who are hungry——who shall punish them?

“If any of you knew it, he would stop it, and the Regent would not suffer such an injustice to be done in his Regency, and I myself should oppose it where I could, but if neither you, nor the Regent, nor I knew it——

“Chiefs of Lebak! who shall then do justice in Bantam-Kidool?

“Hear me, and I will tell you how justice would be done in such a case.

“There comes a time when our wives and children shall weep while preparing our shroud, and the passers-by shall say, ‘A man has died there.’ Then he who arrives in the villages shall bring the news of the death of him that has died, and the person who lodges him shall ask, ‘Who was the man that died ?’

“ ‘He was good and just. He did justice, and drove not the suppliant from his door. He listened patiently to all who came to him, and returned that which had been taken away. And him who could not plough his land, because the buffalo had been taken out of his stables, he assisted to seek for the buffalo; and where the daughter had been carried off from the house of her mother, he sought the thief and brought the daughter back. And where work had been done, he did not withhold the wages, nor take away the fruit of him who planted the tree, nor the coat that was another’s, nor eat the food that belonged to the poor.’

“Then it shall be said in the villages:—

“ ‘Allah is great: Alla has taken him home. His will be done: a good man has died.’

“But again the passenger shall stand before a house and ask, ‘What is this, that the gamlang is silent, and the song of the maidens is hushed?’ And again it shall be said, ‘A man has died.’

“And whosoever journeys to the villages, shall sit in the evening with the host, and round about him the sons and daughters of the house, and the children of those who live in the village, and he shall say:—

“ ‘A man has died, who promised to be just; and he sold justice to every one who gave him money. He watered his field with the sweat of the labourer whom he had called away from his own labour. He did not pay the labourer his wages, but lived on the food of the poor. He became rich from the poverty of others. He had much gold and silver, and plenty of precious stones; but the labourer who lives in the neighbourhood did not know how to appease the hunger of his child. He smiled like a happy man; but there was gnashing of the teeth from the suppliant who sought justice. There was contentedness on his features; but there was no milk in the breasts of the mothers who would fain have given suck.’

“Then the people of the villages will say:—

“ ‘Allah is great——we curse no one!’

“Chiefs of Lebak! there comes a time when all of us must die!

“What shall be said in the villages where we have had power, and what by the bystanders who witness the funeral? and what shall we answer if, after death, a voice speaks to our soul, and asks, ‘Why is there weeping in the fields, and how is it that the young men hide themselves? Who took the harvest out of the barn, and the buffalo that should have ploughed the fields out of the stall? What have you done with your brother whom I gave you to watch over? Why is the poor man sad? Why does he curse the fruitfulness of his wife?’ ”

Here Havelaar paused again for a few moments; and then continued, in the most simple tone possible, and as if nothing had been said to make an impression:—

“I wish to live on good terms with you, and therefore I beg you to regard me as your friend. Every one who has erred may reckon on a lenient sentence from me, for as I err so often myself, I shall not be severe; at least not in ordinary mistakes or negligences. Only where negligence becomes a custom, I will oppose it. Of faults of a more grave kind——of tyranny and extortion, I do not speak—such a thing shall not happen; is it not so, Regent?”

“Oh no, Mr. Assistant Resident, such a thing shall not happen in Lebak.”

“Well then, gentlemen, chiefs of Bantam-Kidool! let us be glad that our province is so poor. We have a noble work before us. If Allah preserve us alive, we shall take care that prosperity comes. The ground is fertile enough, the population willing; if every one is suffered to remain in the enjoyment of the fruits of his labour, there is no doubt that within a short time the population will improve, as well both in the number of souls as in possessions and civilisation, for these things generally go hand in hand. I beg you again to regard me as a friend who will help you where he can, above all where injustice must be prevented. And now I commend myself to your co-operation.

“I will return to you the reports I have received on agriculture, cattle-breeding, police, and justice, with my orders.

“Chiefs of Lebak! I have said. You can return every one to his home. I cordially greet you all.”

He bowed, offered his arm to the old Regent, and conducted him to his house, where Tine awaited him in the gallery.

“Come, Verbrugge, don’t go home yet. Come, a glass of Madeira! And, yes, I must know that——Radeen Djaksa! stop a moment.”

Havelaar said this whilst all the chiefs, bowing low, prepared to return to their homes. Verbrugge, too, was about to take his leave, but returned with the Djaksa.

“Tine, I'll take some Madeira; so will Verbrugge. I say, Djaksa! tell me what you said about Max to the Kliwon?

Minta ampong (I beg your pardon), Mr. Assistant Resident; I looked at his head, because you had spoken.

“What the deuce has his head to do with that? I have already forgotten what I said.”

“Sir, I said to the Kliwon——” [Tine approached, they spoke about little Max.]

“I said to the Kliwon, that the Sinjo” (Portuguese, Senko, which here means young gentleman, on the same principle as lucus a non lucendo) “was made for a king.”

Tine was glad to hear that——she thought so too!

“And the Adhipatti locked at the head of the little one, and to be sure! he too saw the oeser-oeseran,[12] according to Javanese superstition destined to wear a crown.”

As etiquette did not permit the Djaksa a place in the presence of the Regent, he took his leave, and we were for some time together with the Regent without speaking of anything relative to the “service.” But the Regent asked all of a sudden, “if the money which was to the tax-gatherer’s credit could not be paid?”

“Certainly not,” said Verbrugge, “Mr. Adhipatti knows that this cannot be done till his responsibility ceases.”

Havelaar played with Max, but this did not prevent him from reading in the Regent’s face that Verbrugge’s answer displeased him.

“Come, Verbrugge, don’t let us be troublesome,” said he, and he called for a clerk out of the office. “We will pray that his account will certainly be approved.”

After the Adhipatti had taken his leave, Verbrugge, who was a confirmed red-tapeist, remonstrated—

“But, Mr. Havelaar, that must not be! The tax-gatherer’s account is under examination at Serang.——Suppose anything to be wanting?”

“Then I will make it good,” Havelaar said.

Verbrugge did not understand this great consideration for the tax-gatherer.

The clerk soon returned with some papers; Havelaar signed his name, and ordered payment to be hastened.

“Verbrugge! I will tell you why I do this. The Regent has not a farthing in the house: his writer told me so——he himself wants this money, and the tax-gatherer will advance it to him. I would rather transgress, on my own responsibility, a form, than leave a man of his rank and years in perplexity. Moreover, Verbrugge! people at Lebak abuse their power in a fearful way——you ought to know it: do you know it?”

Verbrugge was silent.

I know it!” Havelaar continued, “I do know it! Did not Mr. Slotering die in November? Well! the day after his death, the Regent forced the population to labour in his rice-fields without payment. You ought to have known it——did you know it?”

Verbrugge did not know it.

“You ought to have known it. I know it,” continued Havelaar. “There you have the monthly reports of the districts,"—and he showed the parcel which he had received in the Council,—“look, I have opened nothing; there are statements of the number of labourers that have worked in the metropolis for the different chiefs.——Well, are these statements correct?”

“I have not yet seen them——

“Neither have I; still I ask you if they are correct?——Were last month’s statements correct?”

Verbrugge was silent.

“I will tell it you: They were false! For three times the number of labourers had to work for the Regent that the orders regulating such matters permit, and they did not dare put this in the reports——Is what I say true?”

Verbrugge was silent.

“The reports which I received to-day are likewise false,” continued Havelaar; “the Regent is poor; the Regents of Bandong and Tjanjor are members of the family of which he is the head. He is an Adhipatti, and the Regent of Tjanjor is only a Tommongong, and because Lebak is not fit for coffee-culture, and therefore gives him no emolument, his revenues do not allow him to vie in magnificence and pomp with a simple Demang of the Preangan Regencies, whose duty it would be to hold his nephews’ horses——Is that true?”

“Yes, it is.”

“He has nothing but his salary, and from that a deduction is made to pay off an advance which the Government gave him, when he——do you know?”

“Yes, I do.”

“When he desired to build a new mosque, for which much money was required. Moreover, many members of his family——do you know?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Many members of his family (who do not properly belong to Lebak, and are therefore not much esteemed) range themselves as a troop of plunderers round him, and extort money from him——is that true?”

“Yes,” said Verbrugge.

“And when his purse is empty, which is often the case, they take, in his name, from the people what they like——is that so?”

"Yes, it is.”

“I am also well informed——but more about that by and by. The Regent, who is old, has for some years beet ruled by a desire to become meritorious through gifts to the priests; he spends much money for the travelling expenses of pilgrims to Mecca, who bring him back all sorts of old relics and talismans——Is it not so?

“Yes, that is true.”

“Well, because of all this he is very poor. The Demang of Parang-Koodjang is his son-in-law. Where the Regent himself does not dare to take, out of shame for his rank, this Demang does it. But it is not the Demang alone—who courts the Regent by extorting money and goods from the poor population, and who carries the people away from their own rice-fields, by driving them to the Regent’s rice-fields; and he——! I will believe, that he would willingly act otherwise, but necessity compels him to make use of such means——Is not all this true, Verbrugge?”

“Yes, it is true,” said Verbrugge, who perceived more and more that Havelaar’s look was sharp.

“I knew,” said Havelaar, “that he had no money in his house. You heard this morning, that it is my intention to do my duty. I will not suffer injustice; God help me, I will not suffer that!” And he jumped up, and there was something in his tone quite different from that of the day before, while taking his official oath.—“But I will do my duty with leniency. I do not care to know too exactly what has happened. But all that happens henceforth is on my responsibility; I shall, therefore, take care of that. I hope, to remain here a long time. Do you know, Verbrugge, that our vocation is noble indeed? But, do you know, also, that I ought to have heard from you all that I have just told you? I know you quite well, as well as I know who are in revolt on the South coast: you are a good man, I know; but why did not you tell me of so much wrong going on here? You have been for two months temporary Assistant Resident, and moreover, you have been here a long time as Controller; you ought to know it.”

“Mr, Havelaar, I never served under any one like you;—there’s something very peculiar about you: don’t be offended.”

“Not at all; I know very well that I am not as all men——but what does that matter!”

“You communicate to others conceptions and ideas never heard of before.”

“No! they had fallen asleep in that despicable official stillness, whose style is: ‘I have the honour to be,’ and its feeling ‘the perfect satisfaction of the Government.’ No, Verbrugge! do not trouble yourself about it. You need not learn anything from me.——For instance, this morning in the Council have I told you anything new?”

“No, no news——but you spoke quite differently from others.”

“Yes, that is, because my education has been neglected.——I speak at random. But you must tell me why you complied with all the wrong existing in Lebak?”

“I never before had such an impression at an initiation——moreover, all this has always been so in these countries.”

“Yes, yes; I know that very well——every one cannot be a prophet or an apostle—wood would soon be too dear because of the crucifying. But certainly you will help me to make all right: you undoubtedly like to do your duty?”

“To be sure! above all with you. But not every one would claim, or tax it so very severely, and then one gets so easily into the position of a man who fights windmills.”

“No! those who love injustice because they live on it, say that there was no injustice to have the pleasure of railing at you as a Don Quixote, and keep their windmills turning at the same time. But, Verbrugge! you needed not to wait for me to do your duty. Mr. Slotering was a clever and honest man: he knew what happened; he condemned it and opposed it. Look here!”—Havelaar took out of a writing-desk two sheets of paper, and showing them to Verbrugge, he asked—

“Whose handwriting is this?”

“That is the handwriting of Mr. Slotering——

“Exactly so—well! Here are two rough copies, evidently containing subjects on which he wished to speak to the Resident. Look here:—1. ‘On Rice Culture.’ 2. ‘On the Houses of the Village Chiefs.’ 3. ‘On the Gathering of the Land-taxes!!’ etc. After the last are two points of exclamation——what did Mr. Slotering mean by that?’

“I cannot tell,” said Verbrugge.

“I can. That means that more taxes are paid than flow into the exchequer of the country. But I will show you something which we both know, because it is written in words and not in signs. Look here:—

“ ‘12. On the Abuses practised on the Population by the Regents and the Inferior Chiefs. On the keeping of different Houses at the Cost of the Population, etc.’

“Is that clear? You see that Mr. Slotering was certainly a man who knew how to take the initiative; you could have supported him. Listen:—

“ ‘15. That many persons of the families and servants of the inland chiefs appear on the payment lists, who indeed take no part in the culture; whereby they have advantages to the prejudice of the real participants. They also get unlawfully into possession of rice-fields,——which are only due to those persons who have a share in the culture.’

“Here I have another note written in pencil. Look here, too, we may read something that is very clear:—

“ ‘The emigration of the population at Parang-Koodjang can only be ascribed to the excess of abuses by which the people are victimized.’

“What do you say about that? You see I am not so eccentric as I appear to be, when I mean to do what is right, and that others shall do the same!”

“It is true,” said Verbrugge; “Mr. Slotering often spoke to the Resident about all this.”

“And what was the consequence?”

“The Regent was summoned——and he had an interview with the Resident——"

“Exactly so! and what more?”

“The Regent generally denied all. Then witnesses were called for—nobody dared to bear witness against the Regent.——Mr. Havelaar, these things are very difficult!”

The reader, before he has finished the book, will know as well as Verbrugge why those things were so difficult.

“Mr. Slotering was much offended about this,” continued the Controller; “he wrote sharp letters to the chiefs——

“I read them last night,” said Havelaar.

“And I often heard him say that, if there were no change, and if the Resident would not act with energy, he should apply direct to the Governor-General. This he also said at the last Council at which he presided.”

“Then he would have done wrong, for the Resident was his superior, whom he ought not to pass ever, and why should he? It is not, however, to be supposed that the Resident of Bantam approves of injustice and arbitrary power?”

“Approve——no; but one does not like to accuse a Regent——?”

“I do not like to accuse any one, whosoever it may be; but where it must be done, a Regent as well as anybody else. But accusing is still out of the question, God be praised! To-morrow I shall visit the Regent. I will show him how bad it is to abuse one’s power—above all, where the possessions of poor people are concerned. But in expectation that all will be restored, I will help him in his critical circumstances as much as I can. You understand now why I made the tax-gatherer pay that money immediately. I likewise intend to beg the Government to acquit him of the advance. And to you, Verbrugge, I propose that we perform our duty punctually, so long as possible with leniency, but if must be so, fearlessly. You are an honest man, I know, but you are timid. Say henceforward resolutely how matters stand——advienne que pourra: throw that vagueness away—and now stay to dinner with us: we have Dutch cauliflower—but all is quite plain; for I must be very economical——Come, Max!” And with Max on his shoulder; they entered the inner gallery, where Tine waited for them at the table, which, as Havelaar had said, was very simply provided. Duclari, who came to ask Verbrugge if he meant to be home for dinner, was likewise invited; and if you would like some variation in my story, you must read the next chapter, in which I shall tell you something of what was said at this dinner.

  1. Titles—impossible to translate them into European languages.—Radeen or Radhen almost = the French Chevalier.
  2. Bantam-Kidool = South Bantam = Lehak.
  3. Paddy = rice in the field.
  4. Gamlang = musical instrument.
  5. Patjol = spade.
  6. Banjers = inundations.
  7. Kris = Indian weapon.
  8. Klewang = Indian weapon. “To wander in foreign countries with Kris, and Klewang, and gun,” means here, that those persons go into other Residencies, where rebels are in army against the Government.
  9. Administrator of Justice.
  10. Governor of the Capital, or chief town.
  11. The Residence of the Governor-General near Batavia.
  12. Oeser-Oeseran = as the hairs are on the head, It means the place where the hairs of an animal meet (also said of the hair of the head). It is rather difficult to explain this peculiar hair vertebra—the oeser-oeseran, a peculiar one—a peculiar whirl in the hair. The Djaksa saw such a peculiar meeting of hairs on the head of little Max, just as some people in Europe look at the lines on your right hand.