Read Online SQ 04 - The English Concubine by Dawn Farnham - Free Book Online
Authors: Dawn Farnham
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damn princes. Just like India, always fighting some petty wars.’
‘If I may, sir,’ Robert said and Cavenagh looked over at him.
‘Yes, Commissioner, what is it?’
‘A little more complicated than that.’
‘What, what,’ Cavenagh said gruffly. ‘Well?’
‘Sir, Temenggong Abu Bakar’s late father signed an agreement with Tengku Ali, son of the late Sultan of Singapore, in which Ali agreed to give up Johor in exchange for a pension and his recognition as Sultan here, which had been in abeyance for many years. This agreement was put in place by Governor Butterworth. But other Malay sultans were not in agreement and Abu Bakar is facing a threat from Sultan Mahmud Shah, who was deposed at Riau by the Dutch, and now claims suzerainty over both Pahang and Johor through blood lines and marriage. In this pursuit he aims to overthrow the Sultan Umar of Terengganu, his neighbour, with the backing of the Siamese and take both states by force. We have already warned Sultan Umar to resist any such efforts. Now Mahmud Shah has an alliance with Pahang’s Prince Wan Ahmad against the interests of his own brother Tun Mahatir. Abu Bakar feels that the fall of Pahang would bring his own position in Johor under threat. Consequently he backs Tun Mahatir and has sent weapons and gunboats.’
Cavenagh stared at Robert as if he were confronted with Isaac Newton asking him to solve the riddle of the spheres. His mouth opened but nothing emerged and he closed it again.
‘The Temenggong’s wife,’ Robert went on, ‘is the sister of Tun Mahatir.’
A silence fell on the room and Robert and McNair exchanged a glance. Blackwood, too, had fallen, as if stunned, into a stupor.
Finally the governor, as if released from some hypnotic spell, roused himself.
‘Good God, man. Who can make sense of all these sultans? Well, well, what to do,’ said Cavenagh and thumped his leg against the floor. ‘We don’t want Siamese influence down here. What do you say, McNair?’
The governor’s ADC stood up and threw a glance at Robert.
‘No, sir. We support Abu Bakar. His acquisition of Johor was quite legal. I have looked into the paperwork. He is wealthy through a monopoly on the gutta percha trade and has licensed the Chinese to set up gambier and pepper plantations on the southern rivers of Johor. In addition, since the establishment of New Harbour, his land at Telok Blangah has become very valuable. But he does need pulling into line, sir. I have it on good authority he has been going around saying that the British governor is his personal tax collector.’
‘What!’ Cavenagh threw his leg this time against the leg of the table, shaking the pens and inkpots into a minor convulsion.
‘What do you mean?’ Blackwood said, his pince-nez dropping from his nose.
‘The excise farms, sir,’ McNair ventured. ‘The Johor and Singapore opium farm leases are offered as one and Abu Bakar is boasting that, since his share of the revenue is paid from our Treasury we are, in effect, his tax collectors.’
Robert thought Cavenagh might have a stroke.
‘Youthful nonsense,’ said McNair in an effort to defuse the situation, ‘of course. He aims to impress the other Malay princes with the extent of our Imperial backing.’
‘Not entirely,’ Blackwood said, ‘The Straits Times claims that the Temenggong receives from our Treasury upwards of $5,000 per month more than the gross sale of excisable articles in Johor amounts to. They claim he is overpaid and is using this surplus to finance his war in Pahang.’
Cavenagh seemed to consider this a moment, then rose in his peculiar way. Having an amputated left lower leg and a corresponding useless left arm, the governor was forced to resort to a series of strange flexions and movements merely to rise with some dignity. Having done so, his wooden foot made a thump as he paced. Robert could not prevent his eyes dropping to this appendage. Cavenagh noticed.
‘Pott’s leg,’ he said.
‘If I may, sir,’ Robert said and Cavenagh looked over at him.
‘Yes, Commissioner, what is it?’
‘A little more complicated than that.’
‘What, what,’ Cavenagh said gruffly. ‘Well?’
‘Sir, Temenggong Abu Bakar’s late father signed an agreement with Tengku Ali, son of the late Sultan of Singapore, in which Ali agreed to give up Johor in exchange for a pension and his recognition as Sultan here, which had been in abeyance for many years. This agreement was put in place by Governor Butterworth. But other Malay sultans were not in agreement and Abu Bakar is facing a threat from Sultan Mahmud Shah, who was deposed at Riau by the Dutch, and now claims suzerainty over both Pahang and Johor through blood lines and marriage. In this pursuit he aims to overthrow the Sultan Umar of Terengganu, his neighbour, with the backing of the Siamese and take both states by force. We have already warned Sultan Umar to resist any such efforts. Now Mahmud Shah has an alliance with Pahang’s Prince Wan Ahmad against the interests of his own brother Tun Mahatir. Abu Bakar feels that the fall of Pahang would bring his own position in Johor under threat. Consequently he backs Tun Mahatir and has sent weapons and gunboats.’
Cavenagh stared at Robert as if he were confronted with Isaac Newton asking him to solve the riddle of the spheres. His mouth opened but nothing emerged and he closed it again.
‘The Temenggong’s wife,’ Robert went on, ‘is the sister of Tun Mahatir.’
A silence fell on the room and Robert and McNair exchanged a glance. Blackwood, too, had fallen, as if stunned, into a stupor.
Finally the governor, as if released from some hypnotic spell, roused himself.
‘Good God, man. Who can make sense of all these sultans? Well, well, what to do,’ said Cavenagh and thumped his leg against the floor. ‘We don’t want Siamese influence down here. What do you say, McNair?’
The governor’s ADC stood up and threw a glance at Robert.
‘No, sir. We support Abu Bakar. His acquisition of Johor was quite legal. I have looked into the paperwork. He is wealthy through a monopoly on the gutta percha trade and has licensed the Chinese to set up gambier and pepper plantations on the southern rivers of Johor. In addition, since the establishment of New Harbour, his land at Telok Blangah has become very valuable. But he does need pulling into line, sir. I have it on good authority he has been going around saying that the British governor is his personal tax collector.’
‘What!’ Cavenagh threw his leg this time against the leg of the table, shaking the pens and inkpots into a minor convulsion.
‘What do you mean?’ Blackwood said, his pince-nez dropping from his nose.
‘The excise farms, sir,’ McNair ventured. ‘The Johor and Singapore opium farm leases are offered as one and Abu Bakar is boasting that, since his share of the revenue is paid from our Treasury we are, in effect, his tax collectors.’
Robert thought Cavenagh might have a stroke.
‘Youthful nonsense,’ said McNair in an effort to defuse the situation, ‘of course. He aims to impress the other Malay princes with the extent of our Imperial backing.’
‘Not entirely,’ Blackwood said, ‘The Straits Times claims that the Temenggong receives from our Treasury upwards of $5,000 per month more than the gross sale of excisable articles in Johor amounts to. They claim he is overpaid and is using this surplus to finance his war in Pahang.’
Cavenagh seemed to consider this a moment, then rose in his peculiar way. Having an amputated left lower leg and a corresponding useless left arm, the governor was forced to resort to a series of strange flexions and movements merely to rise with some dignity. Having done so, his wooden foot made a thump as he paced. Robert could not prevent his eyes dropping to this appendage. Cavenagh noticed.
‘Pott’s leg,’ he said.
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