Raffles

by Victoria Glendinning

  The deterioration in the relationship between Raffles and Farquhar is documented in a non-stop tragi-comic exchange of letters. Every couple of days, sometimes two or three times in one day, messengers ran with agitated communications between the bungalow on Singapore Hill and the Residency House down on the Cantonment. All the while, Raffles’ Regulations, annulling or reversing Farquhar’s rulings and decisions, were being announced. Perhaps Raffles was trying to provoke Farquhar into resigning.

  Raffles made a further point to Calcutta: ‘The Malay connection in which Lieutenant Colonel Farquhar is involved, and the general weakness of his administration’ made him open to pressures from ‘peculiar interests’ – favouritism, ‘irregularities’. This was a reference to Farquhar’s family life. He had with him in Singapore his nonya, with whom he had lived since his earliest days in Malacca. They had six children together. Farquhar was connected with the people in a way Raffles could never be, and was therefore tolerant of traditional practices such as gaming and opium-farming, and of course slavery. It was this, rather than any social-sexual objection, which made Raffles angry. Farquhar also considered the land to be ultimately vested in the Temenggong and the Sultan, and the port to be a ‘native port’ – an ‘extraordinary principle’ in Raffles’ view.

  With this orientation, Farquhar could claim a deep knowledge of the cultures of the Eastern Isles; and his natural history collections and drawings were almost on a level with Raffles’ own. Raffles had the vision, and a mission, and authority. Farquhar, after more than thirty years in the East, had authority too, and a different, laid-back way of being, and a closer focus on the local and day-to-day.

  The letters – an enormous mass of verbiage – reflect their differences, and their similarities. One of Raffles’ stated aims was to wipe out favouritism and ‘irregularities’. But he himself doggedly forwarded the interests of William Flint, for Maryanne’s sake, just as Farquhar was transparently vulnerable through Francis Bernard, for his daughter Esther’s sake. Each bristled at the other’s partiality. Each fought for his near and dear and denigrated the near and dear of the other. Large strategic matters were not addressed nearly so passionately. The battleground was displaced to the personal.

  Raffles, because he and Sophia had stayed with the Flints before the new Residency bungalow was built, insisted that Flint’s rent for that period should be paid by Government, since he used Flint’s house as his office. Meanwhile Flint, as Master Attendant and Storekeeper, was being allocated by Raffles more and more duties and allowances loosely connected with the port, assuming also the authority ‘where necessary’ of a Magistrate. Even the new office of Post Master was to come ‘under the general superintendant of the Master Attendant.’ At Farquhar’s request, Raffles was forced to provide him with details of all Flint’s considerable emoluments.

  There was a ludicrous long-running letter-row about a consignment of flooring tiles, originating before Raffles’ arrival. Some of the tiles were missing, and Farquhar blamed the shortfall on Flint in his capacity as Storekeeper. ‘It could hardly be thought necessary, from an Officer of your Rank and Station,’ riposted Raffles, ‘that every particular tile or brick should be counted.’ As they were to be auctioned immediately, ‘the counting of them on delivery after sale would be sufficient… There seems to be little doubt that the deficiency arose during the period of your charge’ – so, in writing off the loss, the Lieutenant-Governor ‘can by no means consider this an indulgence to the Storekeeper but an act of liberal consideration to yourself.’ This petty wrangle ran and ran.

  Farquhar was gunning for Flint, and Raffles was gunning for Farquhar’s son-in-law Francis Bernard, compelled to renounce his temporary positions as Master Attendant and Storekeeper in favour of Flint. Raffles moved Bernard to the Police Department. On 24 January Farquhar sent Raffles a thick sheaf of pages conveying furious resentment about Bernard’s reduced salary and status: ‘I cannot but consider this expression of Head Constable which he applies to Mr Bernard as intended as a premeditated insult and affront not only to that Gentleman but to myself and family to whom he is so nearly connected.’ The Lieutenant-Governor well knew that ‘no one with the slightest pretension to rank as a Gentleman in Society’ could ever be so degraded as to be called a police constable. On this issue too, many letters flew back and forth. Since one of Lieutenant-Colonel Farquhar’s particularly outspoken missives ‘may have been written in haste and under misconception,’ the Lieutenant-Governor ‘trusts you will see the propriety as well as the advantage to the Public Service of reviewing it.’ And then, the Lieutenant-Governor treading on very thin ice: ‘It should be recollected that offices are not to be created to suit individuals or to serve the purposes of private patronage.’

  Raffles rightly suspected that John Palmer was spreading gossip about Singaporean discontents in Calcutta, and wrote to Wallich on 8 February 1824: ‘Of Singapore politics I suppose you will have various accounts. I continue to go on as steadily and quietly as possible – not so however our local Chief [Farquhar] who seems every day more and more to forget himself.’ One of Farquhar’s ‘principle satellites’ in Singapore was a protégé of Palmer’s, Claude Queiros – Raffles called him ‘Quier-ass’ – through whom he hoped to ‘impress Mr Palmer with an idea that he is sadly used by me…it is intended that Mr Palmer should be able to shew the Supreme Govt the ruinous consequences of my measures.’

  Another sore was the removal of houses from the Cantonment. ‘Mr Bernard is claiming compensation for the actual cost of his house [on the Cantonment] since he says that building costs were more when he built it than now!’ Raffles’ tone to Wallich was exasperated. ‘The case will of course be appealed to Mr Palmer who will no doubt submit it to the Supreme Govt.’ The whole thing was ‘absurd in the extreme,’ and he wanted Wallich to ‘guard Mr Adam against Palmer’s influence.’ Bernard went on nagging Raffles about compensation in letter after letter.

  Flint, as well as his house on the East Beach, had acquired Saligar Hill, and Farquhar questioned his right to it. The routine was to apply to the Resident for a land grant. No money changed hands, apart from financial arrangements made by the new owner with local inhabitants who were required to remove themselves. Raffles had given Flint informal permission to have a Hill and reminded Farquhar that ‘by your own estimate the extent of his Hill is only estimated at 33 acres.’ Flint held on to his Hill, built a house on it, and named it Mount Sophia.

  Raffles wished Wallich to intimate to the Supreme Government the extent of Farquhar’s own ‘Hills of Babylon’, as he called them, ‘far more considerable’ than was envisaged. He was happy to authorise 200 acres. Farquhar called his Hill – next to Flint’s – Mount Emily; and in fact it comprised rather less than 200 acres. Farquhar expressed himself ‘surprised and hurt’ by Raffles’ insinuations about land he claimed was ‘appropriated’ by himself and Mr Bernard. He had cleared ground at his own expense, and with the approval of the Temenggong. And it was unfair to penalise Mr Bernard financially since Captain Flint, the Master Attendant, held a post of ‘far greater influence and importance than the Assistant in the Police Department.’

  Farquhar was accustomed, when off duty, to wear informal clothes, probably a sarong – and probably Raffles was again obliquely referring to the Malay connection when he censured Farquhar’s ‘departure from the usual etiquette’ in dispensing with his military uniform. Barbed exchanges about the dress code continued for a month. Then Raffles informed Farquhar that he had referred the matter to the Governor-General in Calcutta. Farquhar protested that such a measure should have been discussed with him beforehand, repeating that he dispensed with wearing military uniform only when not engaged in any duty ‘connected with my office of Commandant of the garrison.’

  A week after that, on 29 April, through Nilson Hull, Raffles sacked Farquhar:

  ‘Inconvenience having arisen from your exercising the Office of Resident, during the personal residence of a Higher Authority at Singapore, I am di
rected to acquaint you that the Lieutenant-Governor has deemed it necessary to relieve you from the performance of all duties attached to that Office, from the 1st proximo [i.e. the day after tomorrow] and during his continuance at this settlement or until further notice.’ The Lieutenant-Governor would take upon himself ‘the direct exercise of all the civil duties of the station, agreeable to the enclosed General Orders of this date which you will be pleased to publish without delay.’ Farquhar’s informal resignation of 1820 was to be accepted from receipt of this letter.

  In response to Farquhar’s instant epistolary howl of protest, he sent a curt note: ‘You are desired to pay due obedience to the Orders which have been this day issued to you.’ Farquhar demanded repeatedly to know on what authority Raffles was removing him from office. Raffles did not tell Farquhar that John Crawfurd was already appointed to succeed him. Farquhar only heard this through private channels – presumably Palmer – on 19 May. Three days later he learned that he was expected to vacate his bungalow so that the successor could move into it. It was naturally not at all convenient for Farquhar to move out of the bungalow he had built at his own expense and where, in the compound, he kept his wild animals. Raffles persisted. The site, on the Cantonment, belonged to Government. Farquhar would be recompensed ‘the present value of the buildings’.

  With the arrival of Crawfurd imminent, Raffles informed Farquhar that ‘as a public duty and mark of respect to his authority’ he was to be present at the vacated Residency house on the landing of his successor, ‘where the Lieutenant-Governor will himself take such measures as the occasion may require.’ This elicited the nettled reply: ‘It was not I presume at all necessary to point out to me the necessity of a public duty of respect and courtesy towards Mr Crawfurd on his landing here.’

  Raffles still had not finished. On 22 May, he issued General Orders removing Farquhar from his additional post as Commandant of the Garrison: ‘The Hon. the Governor-General in Council having accepted the resignation of Lieutenant-Colonel Farquhar, and Mr John Crawfurd having been appointed Resident of Singapore,’ Lieutenant-Colonel Farquhar will ‘deliver over charge to Mr Crawfurd on his arrival, and the Commander of the Troops will that day devolve on Captain [Thomas] Murray of the 20th Native Infantry.’ This notice was sent to Farquhar with an instruction ‘to publish without delay.’

  Farquhar now was suffering a double humiliation. Over that week in May, letters between the two frenzied men were read, replied to, and despatched several times a day. Unless, wrote Farquhar, the Lieutenant-Governor could produce ‘sufficient authority from the Supreme Government or H.E. the Commander in Chief’ in Calcutta for removing him from the command of the troops, he declined to relinquish it. The reply came through Hull: ‘I am directed to convey to you his positive command that you forthwith publish the General Order of this date and obey them to the Letter – the contrary at your peril. On the arrival of Mr Crawfurd you will be released from all further duties and struck off the strength of the garrison from that date.’

  Farquhar asked to see copies of any letter from the Supreme Government appointing Crawfurd to relieve him as Resident of Singapore. Back came the reply from Raffles that ‘the General Orders of that same date [22 May] contain all the information required.’ Farquhar, in face of the inevitable, agreed to comply with Raffles’ ‘peremptory commands’ since ‘an act of resistance on my part would be the means of occasioning interruption and inconvenience to the Public Service.’ And then: ‘To the highest tribunal in India, therefore, I will make a solemn appeal under a confident hope that ample redress will be sooner or later afforded me for all the severity and injustice I have received at your hands.’ He was not going to let this go.

  Raffles did not have the right to sack Farquhar, only to recommend to the Supreme Council that Farquhar be removed. The Supreme Government, regretfully, supported the Lieutenant-Governor’s decision; the Governor-General in Council however deemed it ‘an act of justice’ to Lieutenant-Colonel Farquhar if the Lieutenant-Governor were to ‘record his sense of the activity, zeal, judgment, and the attention to the principles prescribed for the management of the settlement, which has marked his conduct in the execution of that duty.’ Raffles complied, almost word for word. It rang hollow to Farquhar, who still felt his dismissal was ‘illegal and unauthorised’.

  It is a sad, bad story. Raffles was peremptory, disrespectful, cruel. Why? Because he wanted Farquhar gone. Singapore was Raffles’ last and best opportunity. He would never be the great Mogul of the Archipelago, but in this small, strategically placed island, this ‘child of my own’, his ideas and ideals had found their time and place.

  He just could not bear it that his vision was being vitiated by Farquhar’s laxness and pragmatism. He had very little time to set things right. He had nothing to lose in the stand-off. He was fighting for principles in which he believed while bedevilled by the constant shattering headaches which left him in shreds. At these times he was deranged, his common sense and human sympathies obliterated by the pain.

  Back in Bencoolen in November, with time to think and his animus (but not his headaches) abated, he wrote to Wallich: ‘God knows I have had but one object in view – the interests of Singapore – and if a brother had been opposed to them, I must have acted as I did towards Colonel Farquhar, for whom I ever had, and still retain, a warm personal affection and regard.’ He said he did his best to ‘prevent a rupture,’ but when it did take place, ‘I found it necessary to prosecute my cause with vigour and effect.’

  Raffles, before the arrival of conscientious Crawfurd, had to rectify the ‘irregularities’ of his brother-in-law William Flint. On the very day he sacked Farquhar, he wrote to Flint officially, through Nilson Hull, about boat-repairing materials causing obstructions on Ferry Point: ‘I am directed to desire you to explain how this has arisen, and that you lose no time in causing the same to be removed.’ As to the silly skirmish about flooring tiles, still unresolved, Raffles told Flint that ‘the amount short of the stated consignment will necessarily stand at your debt until explained.’

  There was more, and worse. Raffles wrote to John Crawfurd – not through Hull but directly – about ‘the accounts of the Storekeeper’. On receipt of the report of the officers appointed to examine them, ‘the details’ would be ‘adjusted from Bencoolen.’ Flint should open his books and provide all the information required to determine ‘the amount of the balance’ – consisting of a very large deficit due to the Treasury, which ‘must be received from the Storekeeper.’ He recommended to Crawfurd a regular examination of the Storekeeper’s accounts. Maryanne’s husband was unreliable and an embarrassment, and Raffles had indulged him.

  John Crawfurd arrived on the Hero of Malown on 27 May 1823, bringing ‘a bottle of ether for Sophia.’ (If this was to ease the pain of childbirth, it is a strikingly early incidence, as the use of ether in childbirth is documented in the West only from the 1840s.) The same ship was to carry Raffles and Sophia, Nilson Hull, Captain Salmond, and the Flints’ four-year-old son Charles to Bencoolen; for obvious reasons, it was agreed that the little boy should be taken on back to England, though baby Sophie remained with her parents.

  The munshi Abdullah left an account of how he packed Raffles’ treasures. The Malay books and manuscripts were wrapped in waxed cloth and packed into leather cases – three hundred bound volumes, plus many unbound, or in rolls and loose sheets, or on palmyra leaves. Abdullah packed shadow-puppets, craft objects, games and, in one huge chest, a gamelan orchestra. He packed hundreds of stuffed animals and birds, and bottles containing reptiles and insects preserved in spirit. It took twenty barges to ferry all the cases and boxes out to the ship. Raffles had brought his collection from Bencoolen to Singapore, thinking they might sail from there straight for Europe.

  Four days before he left, he laid the foundation stone of the Singapore Institution at seven in the morning, witnessed by the Trustees, officers and friends. On the day of departure, Raffles formally transferred the charge o
f Singapore to John Crawfurd by Proclamation. His own connection was severed; the settlement was ‘no longer to be considered as a dependency of Fort Marlborough,’ but placed ‘in direct communication with the Supreme Government’ and considered ‘an immediate dependency of Fort William.’

  Abdullah’s sadness on saying goodbye to Mr Raffles – he never took on board the change to ‘Sir Stamford’ – ‘was not due to the fact that I had gained such benefit from him nor because of his greatness and pre-eminence but because of his courtesy and understanding… a nature so good at winning the affection of others and so noble as that of Mr Raffles I never found.’

  From the wharf, he saw Mr Raffles standing all alone at a window on the Hero, raising his hand in farewell to Singapore.

  Abdullah, who never seemed to make a distinction between the first and the second ‘Mrs Raffles’, remembered them in a poem:

  The plover seeks the wayside tree,

  The rambai in green pastures grows,

  Mr Raffles – wise is he,

  How well the hearts of men he knows.

  The rambai in green pastures grows,

  Delicious fruits the taste beguile,

  How well the hearts of men he knows

  How natural his charm and smile.

  Delicious fruits the taste beguile

  Like bramble with its prickly hairs.

  How natural his charm and smile,

  The grace his wife so nobly shares.

  Like bramble with its prickly hairs,