Ohoho... queer did used to mean 'weird' or 'odd' back on those days. Any sort of double-meaning is simply ridiculous!
Of Rajahs and Hornbills: A timeline of Brooke Sarawak
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Ohoho... queer did used to mean 'weird' or 'odd' back on those days. Any sort of double-meaning is simply ridiculous!
You forgot Jamie used to have "gay" parties abroad his schooner. No, not that kind of gay. The happy one. The "drink to your heart's content" one.
It looks like this would be pretty much the optimal match in this scenario. A family which is noble enough to not cause disgrace, but minor enough to be the clear junior partner, with the father in law a capable man and the bride reasonably clever. Hopefully things work out.
I do think that the nephew would be the logical choice for heir apparent here though. There's already precedent, he is being raised in the court in Kuching and while agnatic succession might be preferable in the circumstances and time period, both the ranee and the princess have become respected enough that Lily's children ought to be acceptable successors to most.
I do think that the nephew would be the logical choice for heir apparent here though. There's already precedent, he is being raised in the court in Kuching and while agnatic succession might be preferable in the circumstances and time period, both the ranee and the princess have become respected enough that Lily's children ought to be acceptable successors to most.
In terms of local acceptence, the Clunies-Ross family may be the best option for both the Brookes and Sarawak in general, and it's a definite plus that both Ellen and Alfred know more on local Malay culture and can adapt well to semi-rough living, from their history on the islands.
As for the succession, you are far from wrong in noticing how Lily's children may be more preferable as heir apparents. This will come into play when they grow up; Sarawak and Sabah may be the only country in the world to write-in a push for succession-by-nephew!
EDIT: the next update is currently being written, though it may take a while before its ready.
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Perkahwinan of the Rajah: Part 3
Downtown Kuching, Kingdom of Sarawak, 15 December 1907
Ampingan did not know what to expect, but it certainly was not this.
“Tumpang lalu!” a voice shouted from behind him and Ampingan hurriedly stepped aside as a group of elderly Malay ladies shuffled past to enjoin in the already long line for the foreign-looking sweetmeats. Nearby, a trio of children in colorful finery chased each other around the legs of passers-by, giggling to themselves as the adults scolded them for their brazenness and yanking of clothes. In a neighboring pavilion, two large families began to filter out from the serving tables, only to be replaced by three large groups now swarming around the spiced rice and roasted buffalo meat.
As a Kadazandusun from the north, the scene looked like organized chaos.
“There you are!” Ampingan turned around to find his wife Semitah emerging from the crowd, holding what looked like packets of food wrapped in banana leaf. “Come! I found a good place by the river! Some new friends I made saved a spot!”
Walking towards her, Ampingan took one more look at the scenes surrounding him. The wedding of the Rajah and the new Ranee was intended to be a grand affair – how could it not, with their title as rulers of Sarawak – but he never thought the celebrations would be this lively. Kuching was bedecked in tents and pavilions, with the city’s great field now covered in towering gold cloth peaks held up by wooden pillars, sheltering the throng of locals enjoying the great feast from the midday sun. Musicians and performers walked the streets, attracting crowds that closed the roads to hundreds of quarrelsome rickshaw drivers. On the Sarawak River, a multitude of boats, prahus, and sampans packed the wake-tossed surface like water-striders, transporting hosts of locals, foreigners, and forest peoples to and from the celebrations.
Semitah walked quickly through the throng, her feet weaving through fruit sellers and laughing children before stopping before an open riverside hut. Within, there were already a few couples sitting down and enjoying themselves to food. “I’m back!”
“Ah, with your husband? Welcome!” A woman rose up and greeted Ampingan. “Come, come! Sit! Your wife mentioned you were from Penampang, and it is so nice to see such familiar faces down here.”
Ampingan was surprised. As far as he knew, he is the only trader from there who has come this far south. “Oh, you’re from there too?”
“We were from there.” Another man spoke up, his food-stained hands pointing at the informal group. “But some of us decided to head south for our own reasons before the War. My family came down to Maling for trade, while Kunul and Saiful over there married Malays. I’m Sagan, Jon Sagan, and the sweet lady that greeted you is Mary Mainah.”
“Sweet, really?” Mainah laughed at the playful tone, but perhaps it was for the better as she did not saw Ampingan’s flinch at the… Kristian names. Is everyone down here a convert? For some reason, the increased number of fellow Dayaks he saw going to mosques and churches down here are somewhat unsettling. What happened to all your pride?
But right at that, a horn sounded from the direction of the Astana and hundreds of heads drew to the Sarawak River. From the hut, it seemed that all the boats and vessels are hurriedly heading to the banks, clearing the waters for a few decorated prahus. “Oh, the boat races! I never knew there would be that today!” Kunul exclaimed.
And with that, Ampingan was left to wander in his confused thoughts.
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The match with Ellen Clunies-Ross may have saved a royal family from succession anxieties, but it also led to an unexpected complication: the wedding itself.
For the Brookes so far – and for most transplanted Europeans, at that – a colonial wedding is a primarily Christian affair that often involves a ceremony in a church, attended by close family members and friends. A feast may be prepared afterwards, but such affairs are only for the wealthy and are mostly little more than a social gathering for fellow white colonists. For Rajah Charles, his marriage to Ranee Margaret was practically unspectacular, having occurred in the cool latitudes of England.
By contrast, the Malays and Dayaks of Sarawak view weddings as a community celebration. The union of a man and woman would be marked with multiple rituals, celebrations, appeasements to spirits, and a solemnization ceremony in a local prayer hall for village Muslims. Family members, relatives, neighbors, and close friends would often be involved in the preparations, which can range from sewing wedding clothes to setting up offerings; the grandest weddings of ex-Bruneian lords would have entire platforms and pavilions built out of sticks and bamboo as imperial Bruneian custom dictates the nuptial couple to be ‘Rajahs and Ranees for the day.’ In fact, to have a humble wedding or a simple ceremony is to give the impression of being completely destitute and friendless to most Malays and Dayaks.
Needless to say, Sarawakian weddings were far from humble.
Thus, a grand celebration was pushed by the Astana staff and local notables, with feasts and entertainments that would echo the grandeur of old Brunei, showcasing the might and splendor of the Brooke dynasty. Given the regional circumstances and Sarawak’s rebuilding of the far north, the new Rajah Clayton had to personally turn down some of the more outlandish proposals, which were noted in his journals. Among the more eye-popping suggestions were:
- To import the Dean of Singapore to officiate the wedding vows;
- To reconstruct Kuching’s wood-built St. Thomas’ Cathedral in stone and marble;
- A three-day feast with ingredients sourced from all across the kingdom;
- A fireworks display with shells imported from Singapore and/or China;
But the highlight of the day was the morning and midday boat races known as the Regatta, in which teams of Dayaks raced up and down the Sarawak River and past the Astana to receive grand prizes, cheered by adoring crowds…
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On the opposite side of the Sarawak River…
Karol Michałowski had seen many things, but he had never seen this.
As his father was too infirm to travel, it was Karol who took up the responsibility of attending the marriage ceremony of the Sarawak Rajah to give his thanks; as the uncrowned first family of Medan, and one of the few whom had ties to European nobility, the Michałowskis were unsurprised at being invited. But the scene before him was unlike anything seen in Medan.
Before him, the Sarawak River was being cleared of all activity. The cacophony of vessels, sampans, and the like were all corralled to the banks to open space for a few long canoes paddled by forest natives. The riverbank was already packed with locals jostling for a better view as the contesting prahus lined themselves on one stretch of the rippling waters. Despite the friendly atmosphere, the Dayaks on board seemed determined to put on a competitive streak.
All this, for a wedding? When will we have one of these for our own?
A signal was raised, and the music began. Slowly, Karol watched alongside as the couple of the day presented themselves to the Astana riverfront, followed by an array of courtiers, ladies, and chieftains all ready to officiate the Regatta. The face of the new Ranee Ellen seemed awed, but as the group stopped before the riverside pier, Karol noticed the Rajah Clayton looking… stiff. And far-sighted.
Odd.
He looked to the river. Following the Rajah’s gaze amongst the crowd on the sampans and on the opposite riverbank, among the hundreds of locals and travelers cheering for the teams. Amongst the mass, Karol saw a figure.
It was a Dayak, with a strong bare-chested body and multiple tattoos on his arms and legs, collected perhaps over a lifetime of wandering. He seemed to stare uncommonly too, not at the assembling boats, but… to the royal couple. To the Rajah himself.
But Karol blinked, and the man was gone.
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Notes:
From old family tales as well as sources on old Malaya (Wikipedia is frustratingly bare on this; a good alternative is the book What I Saw In Malaya by Jeanne Cuisinier as a general backgrounder) old Malay weddings are supposed to be grand events that involve the entire community, and this spirit has not changed in any way ITTL. The wedding events also act as a public signal to everyone which person is ‘off the suitors market’, so to speak.
[1] These type of performances is still carried out in traditional weddings among Malays and a few Dayak tribes. Performances of dances and martial arts are seen not only as entertainment for the couple and guests, but also for blessing the event and the bride and groom.
Perkahwinan of the Rajah: Epilogue
The Astana, One Night Before…
The office looked exactly as it had.
In the dark of the wee hours, lit and silhouetted by dim lamplight and the moon streaming through the closed shutters, the curves of the rattan and wood furniture seemed to jump out in harsh angles and black shadows. In the inverted world of the nightly palace, the familiar seemed alien.
But with the outlines of memory, the main desk and chair were easily reached. Fingers felt their way down towards a hidden knob on one side, grasping it and slowly pulling just so. The idea of incorporating tricks from old puzzle boxes seemed odd and even comedic upon commission, but now it was dearly thanked, for the hidden compartment within the wood contained one of the most precious objects in the room.
Through the wavering lamplight, the space was illuminated to show a series of journals.
The figure stared, just for a while. He had tried to sleep, to make sure the following morning and all its happenings would begin on a rested note. But he couldn’t, and in his heart of hearts, he knew why.
Slowly, a journal was chosen. Sitting down on the chair, the figure began to read…
********************
…“Are you sure.”
“Yes.”
And with that, came the hours of pain…
…Now, standing by the longhouse’s entryway, Clayton could not help but gently touch at the results. On either side of his shoulders, open skin bare and red, are scrawled two large flowers. He couldn’t help but admire the handiwork; the soot ink coloring the image strikingly black against his body. Each petal symbolized the patience of the bearer, and the spiral on the center represents the long life that now awaits him. The weight of the kingdom is now laid on his shoulders.
The Bungai Terung.
The hallmark of a man on the beginning of his journey…
…The congratulations were many and were thanked, but Clayton resolved to lie and wait for the skin to cool its inflammation before taking a dip in the river below. Though that did leave him the last to bathe, it was a welcome break for privacy…
…Usop was already in the water, waiting for him. “You look… good.”
That smile was one Clayton wished he could keep.
“For an adult boy, that is. Most boys receive a Bungai Terung at twelve years old.”
At that, the man laughed.
Clayton splashed some water in his face. After that, the moments seem to bleed into a playful circle of water and air. But even then, it seemed no time had passed when Clayton finally held Usop in his arms. They had swum into a shady part of the river, partially from the longhouse’s view.
There, for a moment, it seemed as if he and him were the only two beings on the world...
...In that place of dappled sunlight and golden fields, away from prying eyes, Clayton’s eyes could finally drink their fill. Usop’s toned body was a tapestry of art, a canvas of swirls and flowers, animals and spikes. Protections and records of a man who has seen much of Sarawak, all glistening with beads of water. Against most Borneans, the Melanau are never one for tattoos, but Usop was no ordinary Melanau.
He embraced him, and Clayton angled his head to make it perfect…
********************
“Uncle?”
He looked up. A young face was at the door. What was his nephew doing, so up late at night?
He closed the cover and went to the doorway. The young lad must have felt as restless as he.
Slowly, the figure escorted the boy back to his rooms. Even without preparations hanging over eveyone’s heads, young children should not wander the palace halls in the dark.
Returning to the office, his heart was calmed by the sight of the journal still closed on the desk, untouched. Turning the pages, he stopped at one of the most recent entries, skimming over the inked words slowly with his fingers.
He closed his eyes, and for one moment, just so, he could almost hear the rustling of the golden paddy fields.
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Notes:
The Bungai Terung is a tribal tattoo that is commonly found amongst several Dayak ethnic groups in Sarawak, most commonly the Iban and Kayan. It is traditionally inked when a boy reaches adolescence, for the Bungai Terung is a tattoo taken before he takes on a ‘berjalai’ = wandering/journey of adult life. The tattoo also holds spiritual significance for granting strength to the wearer as the ‘weight of the world’ (adult life and responsibilities) now lay on his shoulders.
For the record, we have actually encountered a Sarawakian bearing Bungai Terung before, just not as explicitly.
You know, I find it really interesting that Henry Golding took the Bungai Terung instead of a western tattoo or any other Dayak design, just so he could connect to his Iban ancestry and go on his own berjalai. Though he also shares Clayton's chip of having it tattooed later in life, as most boys traditionally get their Bungai Terung done in adolescence.
For living rough and the tattoos, oh yes. Something like that is practically impossible to hide. Regarding her new husband's sexuality... that's another answer (no).
As for anyone who's wondering why I decided to post the wedding and epilogue back-to-back, I recently realized that this whole Sarawak arc (and the Great War arc so far) has been going on-and-off since February 2018. In fact, I've been focusing so much on Sarawak and the greater Asia region that I'm starting to misremember key points on the Great War in general, even with notes! Because of that - and because everything notable about Sarawak in this War period is almost written down - I am wrapping this arc up so that I can finish off the rest of the Great War, preferably without putting in memory-induced plot holes.
It's been an excellent series of posts.
I do love AH threads with a strong focus on real people, characters who exist for some purpose other than to show off how clever the author's timeline is. And you've managed that in spades. The sweetness and sadness of this generation of the Brookes is going to echo over the coming generation- there's a lot of pain to come on a personal level, I suspect, even as Sarawak itself recovers from the turbulent years of the war.
I do love AH threads with a strong focus on real people, characters who exist for some purpose other than to show off how clever the author's timeline is. And you've managed that in spades. The sweetness and sadness of this generation of the Brookes is going to echo over the coming generation- there's a lot of pain to come on a personal level, I suspect, even as Sarawak itself recovers from the turbulent years of the war.
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Thank you.
I've found that TL's that focus on people and the societies they grew up (and impacted/are impacted in) are far more immersive and compelling than the usual AH fare. For instance: a person can make a normal post about the value of Bungai Terung tattooing, the symbolism and meaning, and how it can tie to a culture and a person. But it also feels dry and a tad description-centric, if just presented that way.As for our main cast, there will be a great deal of character growth and exploration for them all in the coming decades, as they change Sarawak and let themselves be changed in turn. Not all of that will be pretty, but it will be a wild ride.
Perkahwinan of the Rajah: mini-afterword
Pelagus Rapids, Rajang River, Kingdom of Sarawak (21 December 1907) – Deep in the forested interior
Shouts and hollers punctuated the roaring air.
For Cosmo Clunies-Ross, he desperately hoped they were cries of joy at seeing an escape from this torment.
All around, he seemed the only one who was supremely terrified. The recent rains have swelled the Rajang’s upper reaches into a brownish torrent, and the prahu he was on shuddered and heaved with every trough and crest of the raging riverwaters, but the crew of rowing Dayaks seemed less scared and more determined at being surrounded by their roiling predicament. The other longboats were even more so, with several of their crew shouting and even smiling as they all raced down the Rajang’s rapids like a group of fired arrows.
Gasping with horror at a looming outcrop of bedrock, Cosmo braced himself for the inevitable as his prahu’s punters pushed their bamboo poles onto the jagged surface to shove them all past the obstacle. Opening his eyes, he saw yet more large boulders strewn about the raging river, surrounded no doubt by roiling currents and underwater ridges, ready to send his boat – and his face – to a smashing, bloody end.
He held onto the prahu’s side and kicked inwardly at himself.
He was stupid. He was so, so, so stupid. It had seemed so clear, so possible, to try and see if he could court the princess royal of Sarawak to score what his cousin had done with the Rajah. Unfortunately, he should have heeded dear Ellen’s call of staying in Kuching at her side as she accustomed herself as Ranee, not to follow the Brooke family into the jungle wilderness of Borneo to inspect their domains. After having to endure rainy days, creepy skulls, loathsome mosquitoes, and cooked boar, he thought his limit was already breached. Until he discovered the Pelagus rapids.
Now, deep in the interior, surrounded by thick rainforest and far removed from any comforts of civilization, shivering in terror as they went through another swell and edged past a strong eddy, Cosmo could not help but be reminded of the river’s tale… a gigantic snake who wished to court a lady, only to be caught by her husband and cut to seven pieces, forming the Pelagus… the waters drowning all who are foolish to tempt it, to even hear it’s splashing waters...
Daring his eyes to look aside, he was even more stuck by how the Brookes seemed to have the opposite reaction. Clayton was directing the school of prahus like a chief, while Lily seemed to be enjoying herself with her slight smile and dead-straight forward look, so different from his. Even the Dowager Ranee Margaret, at her age of 57, looked more exhilarated than frightened at where she was, even as her boat rocketed past a short fall and bobbed in the wake.
Cosmo realized the drop a second before it came, and he never thought his knuckles could be so white. I think I’m going to be sick.
********************
Kristine Murang, From Cocos to Kuching: A history of the Clunies-Ross in Borneo (Miri University Press: 1991)
…After returning to Kuching, Cosmo Clunies-Ross promptly dropped off any plans to marry Lily Brooke. Despite this, he did enjoy the country enough to build his own house in the capital’s outskirts and alternated time between Sarawak and the Cocos Islands.
He never tried to follow his in-laws into the interior again.
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Notes:
Remember when I wanted to pivot back to the Great War? Oops.
The Pelagus rapids are a series of turbulent stretches of the upper Rajang River, situated between the interior towns of Kapit and Belaga. The rapids are long known for its dangerous obstacles such as jutted stone outcrops and strong water currents above jagged bedrock, which hampered travel for many Dayaks in the region. At times of scant rains, many people simply preferred to walk around the rapids instead of going through them, because of how difficult it was to traverse the river.
Belaga is one of the deepest inland outposts of Sarawak IOTL and ITTL, and both Charles Brooke and Charles Vyner Brooke experienced the Pelagus rapids first-hand in their war expeditions. Interestingly, Margaret Brooke herself went down the dangerous rapids during a visit to Belaga with her husband, and she described the experience of rapid-shooting as more exhilarating than scary in her book, My Life in Sarawak:
“As I write, it all comes back to me as though it only happened yesterday, for the impression was so intense that at times I fancy myself again in that spot, flying down the rapids like a bird. I think if, at the end of my life, I had to give an account of the happiest time I have ever spent, it would be of those too brief minutes when Salleh [her guide] and his picked crew steered our boat down those foaming waters.”
Cosmo Clunies-Ross is a TTL cousin of the real Cosmo of the family, and the legends of the Pelagus ITTL is just one of the several myths and stories attributed to the rapids IOTL. Thankfully, the waters are calmer now, not least because the Sarawak government blew up parts of the Pelagus in 2012 to make it safer for travel.
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Thanks! The rough living of the Brookes is something that has fascinated me, but I never thought they were actually rapid-rafting through inland Borneo in OTL until after I did the epilogue. So yeah.Great chapter once again
Well, it has been a year and two days since Rajah Charles and Clarke Brooke died at Sandakan. The family has grieved and mourned for them enough in the months afterwards and with the wedding done, it was time for things to go back to normal.
The family wasn't seeking fun initially; the trip to Belaga is important as the place opens to the deepest interior of Sarawak and Borneo with many Ibans, Kenyahs, and other tribes criss-crossing the highland mountains. But that doesn't mean they can't have some fun along the way, and besides: the Pelagus rapids do from the quickest (if dangerous) route downstream. Might as well go rapid-rafting, and Charles and Clarke would have liked the family's spunk to be still alive.
And with that, we are now closing in on 99 pages of Rajahs and Hornbills. You guys, I have never thought my 2014 TL would continue till this far, or have readers who still stood by this even in the months and years of hiatus. I really have no idea what to say except... thank you. Thank you all for being here for this.
Glad to have been a part of the ride! It's a phenomenal story you have developed here, in my eyes one of the high points of AH literature on the site. Long may it continue, and thank you for your dedication!And with that, we are now closing in on 99 pages of Rajahs and Hornbills. You guys, I have never thought my 2014 TL would continue till this far, or have readers who still stood by this even in the months and years of hiatus. I really have no idea what to say except... thank you. Thank you all for being here for this.
This TL is in my opinion one of the finest on this site, or any AH I have read in general. You take a niche that many even history buffs know little if anything about and have rocked with it. Your sheer endurance to keep on with this project when so many fizzle out is awe inspiring. And by reading this my knowledge of the actual region has expanded immensely, when it may have never done so otherwise.
Speaking for myself I would not mind following this for another six years; confident you will keep not only delivering quality but improve as you go like any good stortyteller.
Speaking for myself I would not mind following this for another six years; confident you will keep not only delivering quality but improve as you go like any good stortyteller.
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