# Max Havelaar (Nahuijs)/Chapter 18

Layout 2
[Continuation of Stern’s composition.]
It was afternoon. Havelaar, coming out of his room, found Tine in the fore-gallery, waiting for him at the tea-table. Madam Slotering had just left her house, and seemed to have the intention of going to Havelaar’s, but suddenly she went to the gate, and there, with very violent gestures, sent back a man who had just entered. She remained standing still till she felt sure that he had gone away, and then returned along the grass-field to Havelaar’s.
“I will know at last what this means,” said Havelaar; and when the salutation was over he asked, jokingly, that she might not think he grudged her influence in grounds which formerly were hers;
“Now, Madam, do tell me why you always send back the men who come into the grounds. What if that man, for instance, had fowls to sell, or any other kitchen requisite?”
There was in the face of Madam Slotering a painful expression, which did not escape Havelaar’s observation.
​“Ah,” she said, “there are so many bad men.”
“Certainly, that is the case everywhere; but if you are so particular, the good ones will stay away too.——Come now, Madam, tell me why you keep such a sharp look-out over the grounds?”
Havelaar looked at her, and endeavoured in vain to read the reply in her watery eyes. He again pressed for an explanation, and the widow burst into tears, saying that her husband had been poisoned at Parang-Koodjang, in the house of the district chief.
“He would do justice, Mr. Havelaar!” continued the poor woman; “he wished to put an end to the oppression of the people. He exhorted and threatened the chiefs in councils and in writing; you must have found his letters in the archives. . .”
That was the case: Havelaar had read those letters, of which I have copies before me.
“He spoke repeatedly to the Resident,” continued the widow, “but always in vain; for as it was generally known that the extortion was for and under the protection of the Regent, whom the Resident would not complain of to the Government, all these conversations had no other effect than the ill treatment of the complainants. Therefore my poor husband had said that if no alteration should be made before the end of the year, he would apply direct to the Governor-General. That was in November. A few days later he made a journey of inspection, took his dinner ​at the house of the Demang of Parang-Koodjang, and soon afterwards was brought home in a pitiable condition. He cried, while pointing to his stomach, ‘Fire, fire,’ and in a few hours he was dead; he who had always been remarkable for good health.”
“Did you send for the Serang doctor?” asked Havelaar.
“Yes, but my husband died soon after his arrival. I did not dare to tell the doctor my suspicion, because I foresaw that I should not be able soon to leave this place, and I feared revenge. I have heard that you, like my husband, oppose the abuses which reign here, and therefore I have not a moment’s peace. I would have concealed all this from you to avoid frightening you and Madam Havelaar, and so I only watched the grounds to prevent strangers from entering the kitchen.”
Now it was clear to Tine why Madam Slotering had kept her own household, and would not even make use of the kitchen, which was so large. Havelaar sent for the Controller. Meanwhile he sent a request to the physician at Serang, to make a statement of the symptoms attending the death of Slotering. The reply which he received the next day to that request, was not in accordance with the widow’s suspicions. According to the doctor, Slotering had died of “an abscess in the liver.” I do not know whether such a disease can manifest itself suddenly, and cause death in a few hours. I think I must bear in mind the evidence of Madam Slotering, that her husband had ​formerly been always healthy; but if no value is attached to such evidence, because the notion of what is called health varies with different persons, particularly in the eyes of non-medical individuals, yet the important question remains, whether a person who dies to-day of an “abscess in the liver,” could ride on horseback yesterday, with the intention of inspecting a mountainous country, which is in some directions eighty miles in extent?
The doctor who treated Slotering may have been a skilful physician, and yet have been mistaken in his judgment of the symptoms of the disease, unprepared as he was to suspect crime. However this may be, I cannot prove that Havelaar’s predecessor was poisoned, because Havelaar was not allowed time to clear up the matter; but I can prove that every one believed in the poisoning, and that this was suspected on account of his desire to oppose injustice.
The Controller Verbrugge entered Havelaar’s room; the latter asked abruptly—
“What did Mr. Slotering die of?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was he poisoned?”
“I don’t know; . . . . but——”
“Speak plainly, Verbrugge.”
“But he endeavoured to oppose the abuses, as you do. . . . and he would certainly have been poisoned if he had remained here longer.”
​“Write that down!”
Verbrugge wrote it. . . . it lies before me.
“To proceed, Is it true, or untrue, that much extortion is committed in Lebak?”
Verbrugge made no reply.
“Answer me, Verbrugge!”
“I dare not.”
“Write down that you dare not.”
Verbrugge wrote it down. . . . it lies before me.
“Well, to proceed, you dare not answer the last question. You told me lately, when there was a question about poisoning, that you were the only support of your sisters at Batavia,—is that the reason of your fear, of what I always called your halfness?”
“Yes.”
Verbrugge wrote if down. . . . his declaration lies before me.
“That will do,” said Havelaar, “I know enough.” And Verbrugge left. Havelaar went out and played with little Max, whom he kissed very fervently. When Madam Slotering was gone, he sent away the child, and called in Tine.
“Dear Tine! I have a favour to ask you. I should like you and Max to go to Batavia:—to-day I accuse the Regent.”
She fell on his neck, for the first time opposed to his wishes, and cried, sobbing—
​“No, Max; no, Max, I will not go. . . I will not go; we eat and drink together.”
Was Havelaar wrong when he made out that she had as little right to blow her nose as the women at Arles?
He wrote and despatched the letter of which I here present a copy. After I have given a slight sketch of the circumstances under which that letter was written, I believe that it is not necessary for me to show the circumspection which he observed, while not uttering a syllable of the discovery just made, not to weaken his positive accusation by the uncertainty of a very important but as yet unproved accusation. His intention was to exhume the corpse of his predecessor, and to have it scientifically examined as soon as the Regent should have been removed, and his party made harmless; but as I have already said, he was not allowed the opportunity of doing this.
In the copies of official documents—copies which strictly conform with the originals—I think I may use single pronouns instead of the foolish titles. I expect that the good taste of my readers will approve of this change.
| “No. 88. $\scriptstyle {\left\{{\begin{matrix}\ \\\ \end{matrix}}\right.}$ | Private. |
| “No. 88. $\scriptstyle {\left\{{\begin{matrix}\ \\\ \end{matrix}}\right.}$ | Immediate. |
“Rankas-Betong, 24th February 1856.
“To the Resident of Bantam.
“Since returning a month ago to my duties here, I have occupied myself principally in examining how the chiefs ​discharge their obligations towards the population as regards statute-labour, poondootan, and suchlike.
“I very soon discovered that the Regent, on his own responsibility, and for his advantage, summoned the population to work for him, far above the legally authorized number of pantjens or kemits.
“I hesitated between the choice of sending at once an official report and the desire to make this native functionary change his policy by gentle means, or even afterwards by threats, in order to attain the double purpose of putting an end to abuse, and at the same time not acting too severely against this old servant of the Government, particularly considering the bad examples which, I believe, have often been set before him; and in connexion with the peculiar circumstance that he expected a visit from two relations (the Regents of Bombang and Tjandoer, at least of the latter, who, as I hear, is already coming with a large train), and he being thus more than usually in temptation—and with regard to the critical embarrassment of his pecuniary circumstances, as it were obliged—to provide by unlawful means the necessary preparations for that visit.
​“All this made me incline to moderation, with regard to what had already happened, but not at all to indulgence for the future.
“I insisted upon the immediate cessation of every unlawful act.
“I made you acquainted with that previous experiment to induce the Regent by moderation to do his duty. Yet it is evident to me that he casts all to the winds with rude insolence; and I feel bound to communicate to you in virtue of my official oath;
“That I accuse the Regent of Lebak, Radeen Adhipatti, Karta Natta Negara, of abuse of power, by disposing unlawfully of the labour of his subordinates; and suspect him of extortion while exacting productions in naturâ, without payment, or for prices arbitrarily fixed.
“That I suspect, moreover, the Demang of Parang-Koodjang (the Regent’s son-in-law) of complicity in the above-mentioned abuses.
“In order conclusively to prove both these charges I take the liberty of proposing to you to order me—
* “To send the Regent of Lebak with the utmost speed to Serang, and to take care that he shall not have occasion, either before his departure or during the journey, to influence by corruption, or in any other way, the witnesses. I require,
* “Previously to take the Demang of Parang-Koodjang into custody.
* “To apply the same measure to such persons of ​inferior rank as, belonging to the family of the Regent, may be expected to mar the impartiality of the examination to be instituted.
* “To order that examination to take place immediately, and to report circumstantially on the issue. I take the liberty of submitting to your consideration the advisability of countermanding the visit of the Regent of Tjanjar.
“Finally, I have the honour to give you, as one who knows the district of Lebak better than it is as yet possible for me to know it, the assurance that, from a political point of view, the strictly just treatment of this affair has no. difficulty at all, and that I should be rather apprehensive if it was not cleaved up, for I am informed that the poor man is, as a witness told me, ‘poessing’ (tired, sick, disgusted) of all the vexation he has suffered, and that he has long sought relief.
“I have partly derived the strength to fulfil my difficult duty in writing this letter, from the hope that I may be allowed in due time to bring forward one or two excuses for the old Regent, for whose position, though caused by his own fault, I nevertheless feel great compassion.—The Assistant Resident at Lebak,
(Signed) “Max Havelaar.”
The next day the Resident of Bantam replied? . . . . no, but “Mr. Slymering” did so, in a private letter.
That reply is a precious contribution to the knowledge ​of how the Government is carried on in Dutch India. Mr. Slymering complained “that Havelaar had not first communicated verbally to him the affair mentioned in the letter No. 88,”—of course because then there would have been more chance of “arranging” matters; adding, moreover, that Havelaar “disturbed him in pressing business!”
The man was surely busy in writing the yearly report on tranquil tranquillity. . . . I have that letter before me, and do not trust my eyes. I read once more the letter of the Assistant Resident of Lebak. . . . I compare Havelaar and Slymering. * * * * * *
This Shawlman is a low beggar. You must know, reader, that Bastianus is again very often absent from the office, because he has gout. Now, as I cannot reconcile it with my conscience to throw away the funds of the firm (Last and Co.)—for where principles are concerned, I am immoveable. I thought the day before yesterday that Shawlman wrote a good hand, and, as he looked so very poor, that he could therefore certainly be got for small wages. I therefore thought that it was my duty to provide in the cheapest manner for the removal of Bastianus. I went accordingly to Shawlman’s house in the Lange Leidsche Dwarsstraat. The woman of the shop was at the door, but she seemed not to recognise me, though I ​had lately told her that I was Mr. Drystubble, coffee-broker, of the Laurier Canal. There is always a sort of insult in such a non-recognition; but as it was now not so cold, and as I wore last time I was there my coat trimmed with fur, I ascribed it to that, and think nothing of it—I mean the insult. I said therefore again that I was Mr. Drystubble, of the Laurier Canal, coffee-broker, and begged her to go and see if Shawlman was in, because I did not wish, as on the last occasion, to have to speak to his wife, who is always discontented. But the woman refused to go up-stairs. “She could not walk up and down stairs the whole day for that beggarly family,” said she, “but I could go and look for myself.” And then followed again a description of the staircase and doors, which I had no need of; for I always know a place where I have been once, because I pay such attention to everything. I have got accustomed to that in my business. So I went up-stairs, and knocked at the well-known door, which opened. I entered, and as I saw nobody in the room, I looked round. There was not much to be seen. A child’s trousers with an embroidered stripe hung over a chair—why need such people wear embroidered trousers?
In a corner stood a not very heavy travelling box, which I lifted up by the hinge, and on the mantel-piece there were some books, which I looked at. A curious collection! A couple of volumes of Byron, Horace, Bastiat, Béranger, and, . . . do guess! . . . a Bible, a complete Bible, with ​the Apocrypha. This I had not expected of Shawlman. It appeared also to have been read, for I found many notes on loose pieces of paper relating to the Scriptures, all written in the same handwriting as the pieces in that unwelcome parcel. Above all he seemed to have studied carefully the Book of Job, for there the leaves bore the marks of it. I think that he begins to feel the chastisement of the Lord, and will therefore reconcile himself to God by reading the Holy Scriptures, and I am not opposed to that. But while waiting, my eye caught sight of a lady’s work-box which stood on the table. Without thinking about it, I looked at it: there were in it a pair of half-finished child’s stockings, a lot of foolish verses, and a letter addressed to Shawlman’s wife, as could be seen by the inscription. The letter was open, and it seemed as if it had been rumpled with some anger. Now it is a firm principle with me never to read anything that is not addressed to me, because I do not think it respectable. I never do such a thing when I have no interest in it;—but now I got an inspiration that it was my duty to read this letter, because the contents would perhaps further me in the humane intentions that made me go to Shawlman. I thought about it, how the Lord is always near to those who believe in Him, as He gave me here quite unexpectedly an opportunity to know a little more about this man, and protected me too from the danger of performing an act of charity to an immoral person.
​I pay much attention to such directions of the Lord:—this has done me a great deal of good in business. With much surprise I saw that the wife of Shawlman belongs to a respectable family; the letter at least was signed by a relation whose name in Holland is respected, and I was indeed in ecstasies with the beautiful contents of these lines. It appeared to be from a person who laboured zealously for the Lord; for he wrote that the wife of Shawlman ought to be divorced from such a wretch, who made her suffer poverty,—who could not earn his livelihood, who was, moreover, a rascal, because he had debts. That the writer of the letter pitied her condition, though that condition was her own fault, because she had forsaken the Lord, and stuck to Shawlman;—that she ought to return to the Lord, and that in that case her family would all of them assist her, and furnish her with needlework, but before all things she ought to put away this Shawlman, who was a disgrace to the family.
In a, word, you could not get in church itself more piety than was to be found in this letter.
I knew enough, and was grateful to have been warned in such a miraculous way. Without this warning I should certainly have become a victim of my own good heart. I resolved, therefore, again to keep Bastianus till I could find a fitter person to take his place; for I do not like to turn any one to the streets.
The reader will be curious to know how I got on at the ​Rosemeyers’ last party. I was not there, . . . . wonderful things have happened! I had gone to Driebergen with my wife and Mary. My father-in-law, old Mr. Last, the son of the first Last (the Meyers were then still in the firm, but they have left it long ago); said some years ago that he should like to see my wife and Mary. Now, it was very fine weather, and my fear of the love-history with which Stern had menaced us, made me think all at once of this invitation. I spoke of it to our bookkeeper, who is a man of experience, and who, after mature deliberation, recommended me to sleep a night on it. This I intended immediately to carry out, for I am quick in the execution of my decisions. The following day I perceived already how wise this advice was, for during the night I got the idea that I could not do better than delay my decision till Friday. In a word, after having carefully considered all things,—there was much in favour of the plan, but also much against it,—we went on Saturday afternoon, and came back on Monday morning. I would not tell you all this, if it was not in connexion with my book.
First of all I think it necessary that you should know why I do not protest against the nonsense which Stern certainly brought out last Sunday. (What nonsense is that about a person who would hear when he was dead? Mary mentioned it to me: she had heard it from the Rosemeyers—who trade in sugar;) secondly, because I am now again convinced that all those stories about misery ​and trouble in the East Indies are downright lies. Thus it may be seen how travelling gives a person the opportunity to penetrate deeply into affairs.
Saturday evening, for instance, my father-in-law had accepted an invitation from a gentleman, who had been formerly a Resident in the East Indies, and who lives now at a large country-seat. We went there, and, indeed, I cannot sufficiently praise the excellent reception we met with. Our host sent his carriage to fetch us, and the coachman had on a red waistcoat. Now it was certainly a little too cold to inspect the country-seat, which must be magnificent in the summer, but in the house itself there was nothing to desire; for it was replete with luxury: a billiard-room, a library, a covered iron and glass conservatory, and a cockatoo on a silver perch. I never saw such a thing. I made the observation, how good conduct is always rewarded; that that man had been attentive to his business was evident, for he had more than three orders of knighthood. He had a beautiful country-seat, and, moreover, a house in Amsterdam. At the supper all was truffé, and even the servants who waited at table wore red waistcoats, like the coachman.
As I take great interest in Indian affairs, because of the coffee, I began a conversation on the subject, and perceived very soon what I had to think about it. This Resident told me that he was always very well off in the East Indies, and that there was, therefore, not a word of ​truth in those stories of discontent among the population. I turned the conversation upon Shawlman. He knew him, and that unfavourably. He said that the Government had done well in dismissing him, for that this Shawlman was a very discontented person, who made remarks about everything, and there was, moreover, much to disapprove in his own conduct. For instance, he was always running away with girls, and bringing them home openly before his wife; he did not pay his debts, a thing which is very unseemly. As I knew so exactly from the letter I had read how well-founded this accusation was, I was very well pleased to find that I had judged of all so correctly, and was quite satisfied with myself. I am also known for this at the Exchange—I mean for always possessing a sound judgment.
This Resident and his wife were agreeable and kind. They told us much of their manner of life in the Indies: it must be very pleasant there. They said that their country-seat near Driebergen was not half so large as what they called their “grounds,” in the interior of Java, and that a hundred men were required to keep it in order. But—and this is a proof how they were liked—all this was done for nothing, and out of pure attachment. They told us also, that when they went away the sale of their furniture had produced a large profit, as it fetched ten times its value; for that the native chiefs were all of them so fond of buying a keepsake of a Resident. I told ​this afterwards to Stern, who maintained that this was done by coercion, and that he could prove it out of Shawlman’s parcel; but I told him that this Shawlman was a slanderer,—that he had run away with girls, like that young German at Busselinck and Waterman’s,—that I did not attach the least value to his judgment, for that I had now learnt from a Resident himself how matters stood, and had therefore nothing to learn from Shawlman.
There were still more persons from the Indies, amongst others a very rich gentleman, who had gained much money on tea, which the Javanese made him for little money, and which the Government bought from him for a high price, to encourage the activity of the Javanese. This gentleman was also very angry with all those discontented persons, who are always speaking and writing against the Government. He could not say enough in praise of the government of the Colonies; for he said that he had the conviction that it lost a great deal in tea, which it bought from him, and that was therefore very generous in invariably paying such a high price for an article, intrinsically of little value, which he himself did not like, for he always drank Chinese tea. He said also, that the Governor-General, who had prolonged the so-called tea-contracts, notwithstanding the calculation that the nation lost so much on this, such a clever, good man was he, and, above all, a good friend of those who had known him formerly; for that this Governor-General had not paid ​the least attention to the talk bout losses on the tea, and had done him therefore a great deal of good by not cancelling those tea-contracts. “Yes,” he went on, “my heart bleeds, when I perceive that such noble persons are slandered: if he had not been there, I should have to walk with my wife and children.” Thereupon he ordered his carriage, and it looked so magnificent, and the horses were so beautiful and so fat, that I can understand why he is full of gratitude to such a Governor-General. It does one’s heart good to behold such charming emotions, above all when comparing them with that accursed grumbling and complaining of persons like that Shawlman.
The following day, the Resident and that gentleman for whom the Javanese make tea, returned our visit.
Both of them at once asked us by what train we thought of going to Amsterdam. We did not know what this meant, but afterwards it was clear to us, for when we arrived there on Monday morning, there were two servants at the station, one with a red waistcoat, and one with a yellow one, who both at the same time told us that he had received an order by telegram, to fetch us in a carriage. My wife was confused, and I thought what would Busselinck and Waterman have said if they had seen that,——I mean that there were two carriages for us. But it was not easy to make a choice, for I could not resolve to hurt one of the parties by refusing such a nice ​offer. Good advice was dear; but I came victorious out of this great difficulty. I put my wife and Mary in the red carriage, the red waistcoat I mean——and I went in the yellow one,——I mean the carriage.
How those horses tore along! on the Weesper Street where it is always so dirty, the mud flew as high as the houses, and there I saw the miserable Shawlman, his back bent, his head bowed down——and I saw how he tried to wipe the mud off his pale face with the sleeve of his threadbare coat.
* ↑ Poondootan is the obtaining of provisions and goods under the pretext of Government service. In the journeys of important personages invited by the Regent or district chiefs, all necessaries are supplied by the population, and that as often as required.
* ↑ Followers and serving-people summoned to increase the pomp, and attend upon the chief or other personage.
* ↑ Long Leiden Cross-street.