Prologue -
Chapter 1 -
Chapter 2 -
Chapter 3 -
Chapter 4 -
Chapter 5 -
Chapter 6 -
Chapter 7 -
Chapter 8 -
Chapter 9 -
Chapter 10 -
Chapter 11 -
Chapter 12 -
Chapter 13 -
Chapter 14 -
Chapter 15 -
Chapter 16 -
Chapter 17 -
Chapter 18 -
Chapter 19 -
Chapter 20 -
Chapter 21 -
Chapter 22 -
Chapter 23 -
Chapter 24 -
Chapter 25 -
Chapter 26 -
Chapter 27 -
Chapter 28 -
Chapter 29 -
Chapter 30 -
Chapter 31 -
Chapter 32 -
Chapter 33 -
Chapter 34 -
Chapter 35 -
Chapter 36 -
Chapter 37 -
Chapter 38 -
Chapter 39
"But now I'd like to know why you had been suspended," said Duclari.
"Oh, yes, please! Everything I can tell you is true and I can even partly prove it, so you will see that I did not act thoughtlessly when I did not completely reject the story about the missing child and the rumours in Padang. You will even find them believable, as soon as you have met our brave General, as far as my cases are concerned.
There were some inaccuracies and omissions in my bookkeeping in Natal. You know that every inaccuracy is disadvantageous – it never happens that you have more money than you calculated. The chief of the accountancy department in Padang – who was not really my best friend – said that thousands were missing. But remember that they had never called my attention to that in all the time that I was in Natal. Completedly unexpectedly I was transferred to the highlands of Padang. You know, Verbrugge, that in Sumatra they consider an office in the highlands of Padang more advantageous and pleasant than in the Northern residency. I had been visited a few months before by the Governor – I shall soon tell you why and how – and because things had happened during his stay in Natal, and even in my house, and I presumed that my behaviour was exemplary, so I considered this transfer as a reward, and I went from Natal to Padang. I made the voyage in a French ship, the Baobab from Marseilles. She had loaded pepper in Atjeh and of course she was short of water when she arrived in Natal. As soon as I arrived in Padang, with the intention of going to the inner lands immediately, I wanted to go and see the Governor, as is the common duty, but he let me know that he could not receive me, and also that I had to delay the departure to my station until I got orders to go. You understand that this surprised me, in particular because he had left me in Natal in a mood which suggested that he was really satisfied with me. I knew only a few people in Padang, but these few people told me – or rather, I concluded it from them – that the General was very angry with me. I say that I concluded it because in a far away place like Padang the benevolence of many people could serve to estimate in what degree one had found favour in the eyes of the Governor. I felt that a storm was coming, without knowing which way it would be coming. Since I needed money, I asked several people to help me, and I was really surprised when everyone refused. In Padang, just as in other places in the Indies, where credit plays a very important role, people could be expected to be generous. At least one would be willing to advance several hundred guilders to a Controller who made a voyage and who was unexpectedly delayed. But all help was refused. I urged several people to explain the reason for this mistrust, and by and by and found out that errors and omissions had been discovered in my financial management in Natal, and I was suspected of embezzlement. Well, it did not surprise me that there were errors in my bookkeeping. I would, in fact, haven been surprised if there had been no errors at all, but it was strange that the Governor, who had personally witnessed that I had dealt with the dissatisfaction of the people and constant attempts to revolt, and who had praised me for what he called "firmness", could classify the discovered errors as disloyalty or dishonesty. After all, he was the one to know that in such cases the cause can be nothing else but force majeure.
And even if this force majeure was denied, even if one wanted to hold me responsible for errors which had been made at times when I – often risking my life – was far away from the treasury and what looked like it, so that I had to leave its management to others, even if one required that I, doing one thing, should not have neglected the other thing, even then I would only be guilty of an inaccuracy, which is not at all "disloyalty". Furthermore, there were many examples where the government recognised this trouble in the task of the clerks on Sumatra, and it appeared that the principle was that on such occasions one made some allowances. It was sufficient to require that the clerks pay the missing amounts, and there had to be very obvious proofs before the word "disloyalty" was used, or even thought of. So that was the rule when I told the Governor in Natal that I was afraid that, after my books had been investigated in the offices of Padang, I had to pay a lot, whereupon he raised his shoulders, saying: "Oh, those financial matters" as if he felt that other matters were more important.
Well, I say that money matters are important. But no matter how important, they were less important than other branches of care and business. If a few thousands were lost due to negligence or carelessness, I would not call that a minor matter. But if those thousands were missing because of my successful attempt to prevent the revolt, which attempted to put the country of Mandhéling ablaze, and to make the Atjehers return to the places we had just chased them to, at the expense of much money and people, well, in that case the missing amount ceases to be important and it appears even a bit unfair to require payment from the person who saved much greater interests.
And yet I could live with such a payment. If one did not require that, it would open a door for dishonesty.
After waiting several days – you understand in what mood I was – I got a letter from the Governor's secretary. The letter told me that I was accused of disloyalty, and I was ordered to reply to a number of criticisms that had been made of my management. There were a few which I could clarify immediately. Others, however, required that I saw some documents, and it was important for me to investigate those cases in Natal, so my employees could help me to find the causes of the discrepancies which had been found, and probably I would have succeeded there in my attempts to clarify everything. The failure to declare amounts which had been sent to Mandhéling, for example – you know, Verbrugge, that the troops in the mainland are paid by the treasury of Natal – or something like that, which would probably have been clear immediately if I had been able to investigate it at the place itself. But the General did not allow me to leave for Natal. This refusal drew my attention to the strange way in which the accusation of dishonesty was made. Why had I been transferred from Natal, while I was suspected of dishonesty? Why had I not been informed of this base suspicion until I was far from the place where I would have had the opportunity to investigate? And most of all, why was the case immediately supposed to be bad faith, contrary to accepted custom and fairness?
Before I had replied to all those criticisms, as well as this was possible without an archive or spoken information, I heard that the General was so angry with me, because I had crossed him in Natal, and he added, that I had been very wrong to do so.
And something dawned upon me, yes, I had crossed him, but with the naive idea that he would appreciate it! I had crossed him, but when he left, he had done nothing to make me guess that he was angry about that! I had been so stupid as to accept my favourable transfer to Padang as a proof that he had appreciated my thwarting him. You will see how little I knew him.
But as soon as I understood that this caused the severity with which my financial administration had been judged, I had peace with myself. I replied to every topic as well as I could and I finished my letter – I still have the draft – with the words:
"I replied to the criticisms that have been made of my administration, as well as I could without the help of my archive or local investigations. I beseech Your Honour to excuse me of all benevolent consideration. I am young, and of minor importance in comparison with the power of existing understanding, against which my principles cause me to revolt, but I remain proud of my moral independence, proud of my honour."
The next day I was suspended because of "dishonest administration". The Public Prosecutor – we still said Fiscal in that time – was ordered to attempt "office and duty" towards me.
And so I was there in Padang, hardly 23 years old, looking at a future which would bring me dishonour! I was advised to appeal on the grounds of my youth – I was still incapable of self-government when the crimes had occurred – but I did not want that. I had thought and suffered so much and I daresay: worked too much, that I saw no reason to hide behind my youth. You see from the final words of my letter, which I quoted a moment ago, that I did not want to be treated like a child, while I had done my duty to the General like a man. And you also see from that letter that the accusation was unfounded. Really, a person who is guilty of mean crimes, does not write like that!
I was not incarcerated, and yet this had to happen if the criminal suspicion was serious. Perhaps this apparent neglect was not without reason. After all, a prisoner must be fed and cared for. Being unable to leave Padang I was actually a prisoner, but without a roof and without bread. I wrote to the General repeatedly, but unsuccessfully, that he could not prevent me from leaving Padang, since, even if I was guilty of the most abominable crime, no criminal is punished with starvation.
The council of justice was apparently embarrassed by my case and had found a way out by declaring itself unauthorised, because prosecutions for crime while in the performance of duty are only allowed with the permission of the government in Batavia. And so the General kept me, as I said, for nine months in Padang. Eventually he received orders from his superiors to let me go to Batavia.
When I had some money a few years later – dear Tine, you had given it to me – I paid several thousand guilders to clear the Natal cash accounts of 1842 and 1843, and someone who could be expected to represent the government of the Dutch Indies said: "I would not have done that – I would have given a bill of exchange for eternity." Ainsi va le monde!".