The Hills of Singapore (36 page)

“Sir, do not go down to the town. It is too dangerous. Be warned.”

Butterworth snorted his disdain and urged his horse forward. Robert and the peon stepped away as Butterworth trotted up High Street with all the ease of a man on military parade.

“The man's an idiot,” Robert hissed, as Mr Church, the Resident Councillor, came to his side. Together they followed Butterworth's horse. As they turned into Hill Street, Church let out a cry, for there was Butterworth, surrounded by a mob of angry Chinese men at the junction of Hill Street and River Valley Road. They were screaming and pelting him with rocks and mud. Butterworth was turning his mare round and round, panicked, the mud on his face obscuring his vision. In a moment he would fall, Robert was certain, and be trampled.

The Chinese had no quarrel with the European town, but the Governor had foolishly got into the riot, and things had become so heated that the men hardly knew what they were doing or who they were attacking.

Robert ran forward, his rifle to the ready, and fired a shot over the crowd. The peon, his stick raised, advanced with Robert. The men began to scatter back to the bridge, but further they would not go. Fighting was raging on the other side. Robert took the mare's reins and quickly led Butterworth back down the street and turned the corner.

“Are you hurt, William?” he said as Butterworth got off the mare.

Butterworth wiped the mud from his eyes and glared at Robert.

“Shut up,” he hissed and turned to Church. “Get the army. Send word to Cameron to send in the troops.” He thrust the reins of his horse at the peon and strode back to the Court House. Robert watched him depart, Church on his heels.

Within half an hour, Robert saw the troops marching in a body into the town. He gathered his contingent of policemen and crossed the bridge. As soon as the troops appeared, the fighting stopped and the men ran off down the side streets, only to begin again as they passed.

Attempting to bar their passage was pointless, and Robert called on the captain of the troops to split them up and send them in different directions. This request was met with cold indifference.

Soon the Governor, cleaned up, appeared with Mr Church and several of the magistrates and passed along the streets where the rioting had been greatest. The sight of armed troops and the gathered European contingent, by degrees, produced an air of quietness, and the streets became calm. As the evening began to fall, the disturbances seemed over.

Eventually Robert joined the Governor and the captain of the troops. “That's put an end to that,” Butterworth said and the captain nodded.

“Yes, sir. The sight of the red coats and your esteemed authority has brought the situation under control,” the captain said, saluting Butterworth.

Robert raised an eyebrow and looked at the Governor, who only an hour or two ago had been covered in mud. “For now,” he said.

Butterworth turned to Robert, glaring. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, sir, that this calm is only temporary. The Chinese do not like to fight in the dark, but there are forces at work which make me certain that the morning will bring a renewal of violence.”

“Rot,” the captain said, and Butterworth smiled. “The Governor has judged the situation very well. There'll be no more nonsense now, sir, I'm sure.” He saluted Butterworth again.

“Yes, quite. Thank you, Captain, your gallantry will not be forgotten this day. Dismiss the troops back to barracks.”

The captain saluted again, and Robert sighed. “I would strongly advise troops staying overnight, Governor,” he said.

“Alarmist nonsense, Superintendent. The matter is under control. You may post your men if you like, but the troops will go. I will judge the situation in the morning.”

He eyed Robert. “I do not forget that we have business to be discussed.” Butterworth raised his hand in dismissal and set off back to the riverside, flanked by the magistrates.

Hale came up to Robert and the two men looked at each other. Hale shook his head. “John, set a guard,” Robert said, “keep vigilant. At dawn tell me what is going on.”

Hale nodded, and Robert went home to Beach Road.

44

Robert rose before dawn. He had passed a fretful night. It was hot, and sleep had been difficult.

He went downstairs, roused one of his peons and sent him to the Telok Ayer station for a report. As soon as he was dressed he rode to Charlotte's house.

Malik was already on duty. The man was a paragon. No change, he reported. The memsahib had woken and drunk some tea. Dr Little had come by and prescribed a sleeping potion.

Robert climbed the stairs and opened Charlotte's bedroom door. The room was dark and stuffy. He went to the window and opened it. He looked at his sister. She was asleep, curled like a child, and his heart went to her.

He took up the potion on her table. Madragore and opium. He frowned. Charlotte had spoken to him of her addiction in Batavia and warned him of his own prolonged use of it for his injury. He would not have her at risk of such a dangerous habit again. He took the bottle and put it in his pocket.

He left the house and rode swiftly to the police station. Light was just beginning to appear as he arrived. Hale reported no movement in the night. Bodies had been removed to the dead house in the Chinese hospital grounds at Pearl's Hill. Tan Kim Ching had been consulted, and he was dealing with the situation. Robert nodded. Perhaps Butterworth was right. Perhaps calm had been restored.

Within the hour, this conjecture was proved very wrong, and Robert's initial prediction was justified. At daybreak, pillaging began in a far more organised manner. Wherever a Hokkien store was located within a predominantly Teochow area, the shop was looted, set alight and the shopkeeper either beaten or murdered. Upon reports of the renewed violence, Robert gathered his entire force and went from place to place, breaking up the gangs and removing the wounded and dead to the hospital.

Within an hour it was obvious his force was too small. Three of his men, including John Hale, had been beaten and had retired, bloody, to the European hospital.

Butterworth reluctantly responded to the new crisis, and Colonel Cameron himself headed the Madras sepoys and a corps of navy marines landed from H.M.S.
Sybille, Lily
and
Rapid
. The sight of such a large occupying force brought calm to the streets, and the fighting continued only in desultory attacks on passers-by.

To forestall further problems, Robert sent word to all the European merchants to attend a meeting at noon at the Police House. When John Thomson arrived at the head of a large group of sympathetic government officers, Robert's spirits were buoyed, and together they set off to wait upon Butterworth.

Butterworth was dressed in military uniform festooned with his medals and insignia. Robert and John exchanged glances.

“Sir,” Robert began.

Butterworth held up his hand and looked at them with a jaundiced eye. “Gentlemen, I thank you for your visit and understand your anxieties. Every exertion is now being made to put an end to these disorders. I have taken charge and, with the assistance of the Senior Naval Officer, we have no doubt that peace will soon be restored.”

“Colonel, with respect,” Robert said, “I think you are underestimating the gravity of the situation.”

Butterworth threw haughty glance at Robert. “So you say, Superintendent, so you say. I shall be happy to have your written report. However we must differ on this matter. It is not serious, and I shall handle it.”

“Sir, may I ask at least that you take the precaution of swearing in the civilians as special constables, in case their services are urgently needed in defence of their homes and property, and, even the town itself?”

Butterworth stared at Robert as if the idea was quite ridiculous. He smiled slightly and threw a complicit glance at Mr Church, who lowered his eyes.

“It is entirely unnecessary. However,” he said, his voice filled with condescension, “if you men insist and if it will allay your fears, then, naturally I shall do so.”

“Thank you, Colonel. Noon at the Police House, sir.” Robert turned and left the room, filled with fury. “The man is a fool. He has no idea what he is up against and refuses to listen,” he said to John.

“You've done what you can, Rob.”

The swearing-in took place with seventy of the Europeans stepping forward. These were invested with the authority to arrest, detain, bear and use arms. As he headed back over the river, Robert sent his two European policemen and several peons to round up the Chinese merchants and bring them to the Reading Rooms on Commercial Square. All the shops and the godowns were ordered to be closed.

When the Chinese merchants arrived, they shuffled amongst themselves. Mr Church, as Resident Councillor, exhorted them to use their influence to restore order. Robert was unconvinced that this plea would do any good. The Chinese merchants would have little stomach for this.

He spotted Zhen and went up to him. “What do you know of this business? Your
kongsi
has the power to stop it, certainly.”

Zhen shook his head. This rioting had sprung up out of nowhere. But he was not surprised. The age-old hatreds of the two factions had been brewing for some time. Now, though, the rival
kongsi
were organised, taking advantage by bringing more men in from the countryside.

He considered what to tell Robert. “Things that have been brewing for some time have come to a head. I do not believe the Europeans are in any danger. This is between the Chinese. I can do nothing to stop it.”

Robert looked Zhen in the eyes. He was sure Zhen was speaking the truth. Robert also guessed that Zhen knew more than he had said, but he was being honest: the matter was not in his hands.

“Believe me,” Zhen said. “This is kind of blood-letting. We can do little but wait for it to pass. But it is serious. Be vigilant over the next few days.”

The merchants departed. Robert saw they had no power to deal with this situation, and he knew Zhen's words were true. In hopes of discouraging disorder, Robert called for a curfew, and all business ceased. With the restoration of peace, Butterworth sent word that troops should go back to the barracks at nightfall and await orders. Robert sent a written protest, explaining that sources had told him of what would transpire. The protest was ignored.

The next day was Sunday. Robert called all the special constables together at the Reading Rooms and addressed them. “I know there will be trouble tomorrow. I believe the rioters will expect the Europeans to observe Sunday and not come into town at all. With the troops gone, I firmly believe they will take advantage of this and bring reinforcements into town.”

He looked over the faces of of his fellows, old and young, merchants and traders, not soldiers or policemen. “My men are done in with the last two days and nights. I need every one of you to be on duty in the streets at four o'clock,” he said. “Five groups of eighteen men, fully armed. I will head one, Henry Cluff, the Deputy Superintendent, another, Mr Hale a third and two Magistrates will lead the other two. The Governor will not be convinced of the seriousness of the situation. It is up to us.”

“We're with you Robert,” called John Thomson, and the others answered.

Robert smiled. “Thank you, men. Now go home and get as much rest as possible. We will meet here again at three o'clock.”

Robert posted a small contingent of his men throughout the town as the troops pulled out at seven o'clock. The streets were calm. Before the storm, he thought, but was glad to go home and fall fast asleep.

The night passed without incident. At daybreak every man had reported for duty. They alone had the entire charge of the town.

At first, as day broke, few Chinese ventured onto the streets, but reports came to Robert that in Circular Road, the upper part of Market Street, Telok Ayer and other places, houses were crammed to bursting with men, and there was a raging ferment indoors. Robert knew that it was only the sight of his patrols that was preventing this ferment from sweeping out onto the street and the whole town going up in flames.

A little before six o'clock, a gang of men attempted to plunder a house at the corner of Circular Road and South Bridge Road, but Hale's patrol dispersed the mob. Robert's patrol met with knives and swords on Philip Street; two other patrols broke up violent riots on Market Street and within two hours had taken fifty rioters into custody. Two of the merchants were wounded.

Robert joined John Thomson and eight other men with the two wounded merchants, along with the captured rioters, and marched them, covered in blood, to the steps of the Court House and called on the Governor and the authorities to take charge. “Now, sir, will you not see sense?”

Butterworth stood, appalled at the sight of the town's European merchants, bloodied, beaten but angry, with fifty wild Chinese in tow. For the first time, the full extent of the very real danger to this community hit home, and, finally, he acted All the Chinese boats on the river, which were swarming with men, were corralled into the centre and patrolled by the cutters of the naval men-of-war in the harbour.

Marines and sepoys descended on the town to relieve the tired special constables. The rioters took to their heels and headed out of town and into the countryside. Reports of violence rapidly came in between the warring factions. The police station at Rochor was attacked and six men killed.

By Monday all the violence was in the country districts, particularly Paya Lebah and Geylang. The special constables joined Robert and Cluff in rebuffing mob attacks on the stations and bringing in refugees.

On Tuesday, houses in Tanglin were burned and hundreds of men on Bukit Timah Road were turned back by the special constables and two of Robert's policemen. A pitched battle took place near Cluny. Murders of villagers at Siglap and Serangoon were reported, with dozens killed. A mob of hundreds of men near the police station at the fifth milestone on Thomson Road was turned back after vicious fighting which left scores dead.