  
Queer Political Conditions Prevailing All Over Java.

Sultans and Chieftains, Although Surrounded by Wealth and Luxury, Are Prisoners of Their Dutch Masters.

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\[Special Foreign Letter.\] 

  
CONSIDERABLE interest has lately been aroused among American ethnologists by the announcement that Hon. John Barrett, the well-known American orientalist, had persuaded one of the many native princes of the island of Java to make an exhibit at the St. Louis exposition. The Javanese village at the world’s fair at Chicago proved a great attraction to thoughtful visitors, although it was a financial failure. The mistakes made by the promoters of the Chicago enterprise will not be repeated by those who talk of taking charge of the [1904](tel:1904) venture, which will combine educational with business features. 



Java has frequently been called the pearl of the orient, and owing to the magnificence of its natural beauties and charms many students have come to consider it as the cradle of mankind and some have gone so far as to call it the site of the Scriptural paradise. Very few Europeans or Americans are familiar with the tribal and domestic life of the Javanese; and Mr. Hugo V. Pedersen, the famous Danish author and artist, probably is the only foreigner who has ever enjoyed the complete confidence of the chiefs of all the numerous chiefs of clans, sacred to their subjects as “princes.” 





A Javanese prince is an autocrat in every sense of the word. His subjects approach him with reverence and his will is their law. He commands great wealth, maintains a luxurious establishment, can satisfy every desire, except that of free movement. In the latter respect he is to all intents and purposes a carefully guarded prisoner. He cannot step outside of his palace without the consent of the Dutch governor of his province. Neither can he receive visitors without a permit from the same official, and when he desires to take an outing in the country he is escorted by a detachment of dragoons. Should he ever nurse an ambition to throw off the galling yoke of servitude, a peep at the citadel, which is so situated that its guns command the palace gate and every avenue of escape, is calculated to soothe the wrath and indignation of the rebellious chieftain.





The governor general, who rules over the East Indian possessions of the Netherlands, is clothed with extraordinary power. He can declare war against the native princes, indict the death penalty and issue decrees of exile. Under him are district "residents," who also exercise great authority. The native princes and chiefs call them "father" in public; what they call them in private has never appeared in print. Each of these princes lives in a complex palace, consisting of a residence proper, a number of small houses, barns and outhouses. Opposite the palace is a Dutch fort whose guns, as has already been mentioned, are trained upon the princely domicile. The "cratons," as the establishments are called, have now been located upon their respective sites for 200 years, although the religious tenets of the Javanese provide for their removal once it every century. But when the Dutch government declared that its fortifications would have to be removed whenever the location of the palaces was changed, their high-nesses suddenly lost all desire for the traditional change.



 The princely residences contain but few private rooms. They consist largely of open halls, without walls, resting upon pillars of precious woods. The floors are usually of marble, and the furniture and lamps are of the common European variety. Everywhere the eye encounters huge brass cuspidors—ugly things which are needed, however, as the Javanese are inveterate with chewers. The stuff they musticate is composed of lime mixed with various leaves and herbs, which composition stimulates expectation even more than the vile plug tobacco used by sailors. The birthday of Queen Wilhelmina was celebrated with great ceremony in the Djohjakarta sultanate while Mr. Pedersen was visiting Java. 



The sultan was conducted to his throne in the rear of the great hall by the Dutch governor. Behind him stood a page boy wielding a monster peacock fan and in front of him was another page who adjusted a gilt stool for the feet of his august master. Forty musicians produced an unearthly noise, and then 12 truly beautiful dancers, called bedojas, princesses of pure lineage, appeared and marched toward the center of the hall. It is the duty of these dancing girls to amuse the prince whenever his high-ness may be pleased to require such entertainment; and they offer the most perfect performance to be seen anywhere in the world. In order to attain the utmost grace of motion the girls destined for dancers are selected with the greatest care from the families of the highest rank. Fingers and elbow joints must be almost incredibly pliable, and the artists must learn to assume unnatural poses so as to form tableaux of rare delicacy. Each performer is endowed with natural beauty, which is enhanced by rich costumes, elaborate hair dressing and costly gems. The sultan of Suramarta is perhaps the most extravagant prince in Java. His importance is due to his chancellor, Raden Adipati, who is married to a sister of the sultan and is considered the most progressive and amiable Javanese gentleman. He has been called the “Bismarck of Java,” and perhaps not without reason, for he rules his master as well as his subjects. No one can obtain an audience with the sultan, first without an order from the Dutch governor and, next, without the consent of the chancellor. All leases and contracts, which are of great importance to Europeans living in central Java, are made in the chancellor’s office; and it is also his duty to prevent hostilities between the minor princes and chiefs and the Dutch government. He is the right hand of the governor and of the Javanese court—surely not an easy task. 



He is without doubt, like his late father, the most highly-esteemed native statesman in central Java. In view of this fact it is not surprising to learn that the chancellor’s residence—one of the most hospitable in the country—is the center of Javanese high life. Once a week he has an “at home” night which is characterized by a total absence of court or diplomatic restraint. The “official” part of the evening is cut down to absolute requirement and then his excellency provides a sumptuous meal for his guests—a feast that far surpasses the banquets served in the sultan’s palace, where scores of officials are employed who make his majesty pay enormous prices for inferior viands and wines. The chief function of the thousands of court officers who prey upon their masters may be said to consist in stealing and cheating. A French gentleman once described the state of affairs obtaining at all of the Javanese courts by saying that for every cigar a stranger received from a native the latter stole an entire box. The moral of the whole story is: “It’s an expensive pleasure to be a Javanese prince.”



DWELLING IN JAVA.



The common people of Java live in a frugal way. Their homes are of the plainest construction, as is shown in the picture, which is a copy of one of Mr. Pedersen’s drawings. The architecture is of the simplest Malay order, and the furnishings would be despised by the poorest European peasant. The cut of a Javanese street vendor, also made from an original sketch by Mr. Pedersen, shows what sort of appearing men the natives are. They are of small stature, have bright eyes and a business sense which would be a fortune to the average white man. They are excellent traders in whose lexicon there is no such word as honesty.  


WILLIAM WALTER WELLS.

Princes Are Slaves. The Bourbon News. January 16, 1903