10

Colonel Farquhar rose, as usual, with the five o’ clock gun, which he had ordered fired from the ten-pounder gun emplacement at the summit of Bukit Larangan every morning except Sundays. By half past six, he was washed, dressed, and had finished his breakfast, which he took with his wife and children. The sepoy guard entered and announced that he had a visitor, a Mr John Simpson.

Farquhar rose and went out on the verandah to greet his guest, dressed in a white linen shirt and faded red sarong.

‘Colonel Farquhar, at your service,’ he said, reaching out his hand.

‘John Simpson,’ replied the other. ‘I’d like to talk to ye about getting a piece of land for trading.’

‘You must be Ronnie’s father,’ Farquhar said. ‘A fine young man, and glad to see you made it back safely. But where is your son.’

‘He’s makin’ arrangements to unload our cargo, and he’ll be along presently. But he said he trusted you to fix us up wi a guid place.’

Farquhar noticed that John Simpson was giving him a strange look.

‘Och, the dress,’ he laughed. ‘You try walkin around this town in a dress uniform ‘a day. Nae thank ye. This pits a bit of wind in your sails, and it’s the closest thing tae a kilt!’

‘I take your point,’ said Simpson, ‘and I winna ask the obvious question.’

Farquhar picked up his walking stick and whistled for his dogs.

‘Well let’s gang and see what we can do for you,’ he said, leading Simpson down the front steps of his bungalow and heading out towards the east beach.

As they walked, Farquhar noticed that Simpson was limping, although the man kept his back erect as a soldier as he followed along beside him.

‘Were you wounded, Mr Simpson?’ he asked. ‘Were you in the army?’

‘That I was, Colonel. Twenty years as quartermaster of the Seaforth Highlanders. But this is nae wound. My feet were bitten raw by cockroaches on the way out on my laddie’s ship. I woke up every morning wi’ the dirty beasties nipping at my toes.’

‘Best to put some mustard or chillies on yer feet,’ replied Farquhar, ‘then they’ll leave you alone.’

‘I’ll remember that the next time … I just wish my laddie had!’

‘Were you at Waterloo,’ asked Farquhar, remembering the distinguished record of the Highland regiments during the famous battle.

‘No, I was in the Peninsula with Wellington, but left the service after Leipzig and Fontainebleau. My laddie Ronnie was wi’ Nelson at Trafalgar as a junior lieutenant.’

‘I know,’ replied Farquhar. ‘He told me about his service, although very modest he was on the subject. But you didna get to serve wi’ Nelson unless ye showed what you were made of.’

By this time they had arrived at the great banyan tree at the edge of the Bras Basah stream that marked the outward eastern boundary of the plain, and stood for a few minutes in its shade.

Farquhar pointed with his stick to a number of wooden huts that were scattered on the far side of the stream. ‘I can set you up just beyond yon huts,’ he said.

John Simpson looked out to where Farquhar was pointing. He watched the white surf roll over the silver sands. For a moment he said nothing, and then he shook his head.

‘We canna go there,’ he said. ‘I’m nae daft. How do you expect us to load anything on that beach? Ye canna get in close. See for yersel, there’s a great sandbar right out there, and the water is so shallow ye’d have to carry a’ the stuff in by foot. We’re no staying if that’s the best ye can offer! We’ll take our chances in Penang.’

Farquhar sighed. ‘I didna take ye for a daftie, Simpson. That’s just what Mackenzie and Johnston said. But at least I tried. Sir Stamford instructed me to put the European merchants along the beach, but as you can see it’s quite impractical.’

Farquhar continued, turning around, ‘Let’s go back, and I’ll show where the others are.’

John Simpson was none too happy to have been offered a piece of land that Farquhar knew was totally unsuitable, but he bit his tongue and hoped that the colonel had known he would refuse it.

When they arrived back at the residency, they looked out to Ferry Point, where Captain Methven had his house and godown.

‘That’s mair like it,’ said John Simpson. ‘Looks very substantial.’

‘Looks mair like a bloody castle,’ Farquhar huffed. ‘Ye could garrison the troops in there.’

They walked past the Company store and through the double rows of shops and stalls that formed the already bustling bazaar. Farquhar pointed out the largest shop, which sold cotton goods. It belonged to Naraina Pillai, who had come down from Penang with Raffles on his second visit.

‘Smart one, that,’ said Farquhar. ‘He runs a building company and brick factory as well.’

They walked up the hard packed earth of High Street toward Bukit Larangan, past the houses and godowns of Claude Queiros, Tan Che Sang, Graham Mackenzie, Syed Omar, and Lim Guan Chye. They passed by the wooden footbridge that Lieutenant Ralfe had built across the river close to the mid-point of High Street, and skirted the temenggong’s compound until they arrived at the foot of Bukit Larangan. Farquhar pointed out the spice gardens and Christian cemetery to their right, and then pointed left towards the river.

‘John Hay has got his place down by the river there. I can give you a space just beyond him. The ground starts to get a bit soft here, so you may need to do some filling, but you’ll have no trouble unloading if ye build a wee pier; still plenty deep enough for lighters and sampans.’

‘Fine with me, Colonel Farquhar, how much?’ Simpson replied, getting straight to the point.

‘Och, I’m afraid I canna sell ye the land, leastways not yet, although I can give ye a temporary permit like everybody else. Sir Stamford Raffles, the Governor-General of Bencoolen with overall authority for Singapore, wants all this side of the river reserved for government buildings and offices. He wants the European merchants on the east beach––you saw what a bad idea that was––and the Chinese on the other side of the river––ye can see for yoursel whit a bad idea that is.’

John Simpson looked across the river to the swampland beyond, which was presently flooded because it was high tide. There were only a few wooden structures built upon stilts, with sampans tied up alongside.

‘Most of the Chinese––and ye canna blame them––have insisted on having their godowns this side of the river, except for those canny enough to set up shop at the mouth of the river, where the ground is dry. Though I expect Raffles’ brother-in-law Captain Flint, the new harbour master, will chase them out pretty quick.’

Simpson looked thoughtfully across the river, rubbing his chin.

‘Surely the answer is obvious, Major. You’ll just need tae fill in the swamp at the other side, as ye just suggested I do wi my soft ground’.’

‘Och, dinna think I haven’t thought of that myself, John Simpson. It’s aye very well, but where do ye think I’m going tae get the money to fill it in? I’ve nae enough money to run the settlement as is, and if I tried to introduce any new taxes to pay for such a “lavish expenditure” I’d be out on my ear. I’ve asked the merchants if they’d be willing to chip in, but they’re not interested. They’re perfectly happy where they are, and I canna blame them. East river is the best place for unloading, at least as things stand.’

‘I’ve written tae Raffles trying to explain the impracticalities of his original plan, and how the others threatened to leave if they didn’t get to put their places up here. I’m sure he’ll acknowledge this when he understands the full situation, but I’ve heard nothing back these last six months. Of course it sometimes takes that long tae get a letter there and back from Bencoolen, so it’s nae that surprising. But for the moment, if ye built anything here it would hae to be at your own risk. Raffles might just overrule a’ the land allocations I’ve made so far––he can be a bit of a stickler aboot these things.’

‘Weel, I suppose I’ll just hae to take a chance wi the others,’ Simpson replied. ‘After a’, that’s why we’re here, isn’t it’? he said with a wink. ‘Now where can I get some good men to put up a quick shed till we get settled?’

‘Try Pillai,’ Farquhar suggested. ‘You’ll probably find him back at the bazaar this afternoon. Meanwhile, let’s get back and do the paperwork.’

They walked back down High Street. The sun was rising white-hot in the morning sky, and Simpson stopped to wipe his brow with his handkerchief.

‘Man, it’s hot,’ he said. ‘How dae ye keep cool in this place?’

‘Try a sarong,’ Farquhar suggested.

‘One thing has struck me,’ Simpson said, as they continued walking. ‘Most o’ these merchants––aside frae the Chinese and Arabs––are Scots, aren’t they?’

‘Aye they are,’ Farquhar replied, ‘a right little home frae home we have here!’

When they got back to Farquhar’s residency, they found Ronnie waiting for them.

‘Well, did the major find us a guid place, father,’ he said. ‘He promised me he would.’

‘Welcome back, Ronnie,’ Farquhar replied in his stead, stretching out his hand to welcome him. ‘Of course I did––John and I have just been up to see the place.’ The two men were now on first name terms.

As Ronnie shook Farquhar’s hand, John Simpson chipped in:

‘Of course he tried to fob us off wi’ a place along the beach that was nae use to anybody, but I wasn’t having any o’ that, so he’s got us fixed up on the riverbank, near the foot of the hill.’

‘But why did ye do that, Major?’ Ronnie responded, giving Farquhar a hard look. ‘I though you said you would keep us a place.’

‘And I did Ronnie, I surely did. In fact I had a prime piece set aside for ye, until Raffles came along and assigned it to Syed Omar. I just had to go through that bit of nonsense on the beach so that I could report to Raffles that you turned it down, as I knew you would. His idea not mine.’

‘But I’ve got you a grand spot just beyond Syed Omar, close by the bridge and the fresh water outlet. You’ll do fine there, if Raffles let’s ye all stay.’

Ronnie’s look softened when he heard this, and turned into a smile.

‘Thank you, Major, but why would Raffles not want us to stay? It’s obviously the best place to do business.’

‘To everyone but Sir Stamford. But let’s hear what he says when I tell him you all refused the east beach.’

‘Thank you, Major,’ said Ronnie. ‘I don’t suppose you found any …’

‘No more dark-eyed beauties, I’m afraid,’ Farquhar replied.