Читать книгу My Father's Kampung - Shawn Seah - Страница 20

The Historical Past

Оглавление

One of the oldest kampungs in Singapore, Kampung Punggol (that is to say, Punggol proper, rather than part of Aukang) was here even before Raffles came, according to Penghulu Awang bin Osman, a long-time Punggol resident.6 According to him, the kampung was founded by his great-grandfather and all its residents were related. Two-thirds of them were fishermen.

In 1985, The Straits Times reported that the 500 residents of Kampung Punggol were planning a grand kenduri (community gathering or feast) before they went their separate ways in 1986 to start a new life in high-rise Housing Board flats. The high points in Kampung Punggol’s history were framed in pictures on the walls of Mr Awang’s 100-year-old house. There were pictures of Mr Richard Nixon (then US Vice-President) when he visited them. There were also pictures of then-President Yusof bin Ishak and then-Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew on other visits. Reportedly, many of these kampung folk eventually moved to flats in Hougang.

How old is Aukang, then? Since the front harbour, Keppel Harbour, was discovered in 1848, and the first dock—Dock No. 1—was built in 1859, we can safely say that Aukang was named the way it was named sometime in the mid-19th century.

The view that Aukang and Punggol were settled during that period is a common one. According to a Punggol Community Club souvenir magazine marking the CC’s official opening:7

In the middle of the 19th century, most of the Chinese immigrants were engaged in plantation work after they had come to Singapore. They planted crops in the river basins around the suburbs. In the early part of the 20th Century, the planting of rubber became an important economic activity. There were many rubber trees planted in the river basins of Punggol suburbs [in this instance, Punggol could refer to either Aukang, Punggol, or both]…

There is evidence that Aukang already had settlers in the 1850s—Teochew coolies who dealt in gambier and pepper, which were usually grown together.

For example, on 28 March 1855, C. R. Rigg, Collector of Assessment and Taxes, reported to Thomas Church for his information that Mr Marquard visited 155 Plantations.8 One of the districts was “How Kang”.

And on 15 May 1855, a survey in The Straits Times revealed that there were 243 coolies in “How Kang”, along with 27 clearings, 487,000 mature gambier trees and 120,000 young trees, 79,900 mature pepper vines and 35,700 young ones.9

Philip Marquard, who was in charge of Siglap Station at “Seglap District”, writing on 17 October 1856 to the Deputy Superintendent in charge of the Police to report about the poor location of his police station, revealed that the “jungle inhabitants of the Howkang [sic] and Lowe Chu-Kang Baru Districts convey their produce to Town by the Serangoon Road”.10

Back then, Aukang was a lawless place. In fact, my father once told me that an old Teochew saying went, “Lao Aukang, bo cheng hu”—which translated into English means, “Old Aukang is a lawless place” (literally: a place with no government)!

No one would say the same about Hougang today (or Sengkang, or Buangkok, or Punggol, for that matter).

Newspaper reports before 1860 clearly show that Aukang was a lawless area just as my father had suspected. There were murders, robberies, gambling problems, secret societies, kidnappings, tiger attacks, riots (anti-Catholic riots and interracial riots), and massacres (at Punggol Road). For example, on 9 July 1850, The Straits Times reported:

MURDERS—In the afternoon of the 23rd Ultimo as two Malays were proceeding in their boat with three passengers (two Klings and one Chinese) from Poogal [sic] to Serangoon they were met near the entrance of the Serangoon River by 14 Malays and a large sampan, who asked them for Tobacco; they replied they had none, when 13 of the Malays, 2 or 3 being armed with spears, jumped out of their boat into the water (which was about three feet deep) went to the other boat, and demanded their clothes, &c [sic]. One of the Malays, a Kling and the Chinese immediately jumped into the water and made for the shore, but were overtaken and stripped entirely naked with the exception of the Chinese, whose trowsers they took off and also his jacket; the other Malay and Kling were stripped near the boat and speared: the Malays then took all the articles that were in the boat, consisting of a little Rice and a few old Parangs and Chunkuls and went off towards Pulo Obin [sic].11

And in 1851, The Straits Times reported:

On Wednesday morning last Eyo ah Toh, a gambier and pepper planter, residing at Passier Ries [sic], left that place in a boat with a quantity of pepper for sirangoon [sic] where a cart was to be in waiting to convey the pepper to town; he was accompanied in the boat by Eyo Long Soon, his cooly, and Eyo Teng You, a son of the owner of the boat: they reached Serangoon about 9 o’clock the same morning, and there Eyo Ah Toh met, as expected, his partner Eyo Ah Tung, with the cart; the pepper was removed from the boat to the Cart, and two bags of rice (above two piculs) were put in the boat as also four dollars in silver brought from town by Eyo Ah Tung. Eyo Long Soon and Eyo Teng You then started for Passier Ries, but not reaching that place by the afternoon their friends became alarmed, and made a search for the boat, but in vain… the following evening the boat was discovered drawn up and empty on the beach up a small creek between Serangoon and Passier Ries [sic], and near it was found the body of Eyo Long Soo, covered with what appeared to be kris wounds; the other body was found close by also wounded.”12

1851 was a tumultuous year. It was also the year that the infamous anti-Catholic riots occurred, mainly at Kranji and Bukit Timah, but Aukang was not spared. After all, it was settled by Teochews working on the gambier and pepper plantations in the interior of Singapore, and there were Catholics among them.

Grim news:

The interior of our Island is in fire and flame. The disturbances, robberies and burglaries have never before reached such a height…

In the present case, there appears to exist a determination on the part of the heathen and secret societies to expel the christians from all the rural districts of our island. Everywhere, at Serangoon, Bukit Timah, Bookoh Khan, Lauw Choo-khan, Nam To-kang, Chan Chwee-kang, even at Kranjee, Propo and Benot the bangsals and plantations of the christians have been attacked by sets of 20 to 50 heathen, who rob all the property and destroy what they cannot carry away. The christians come to town from all parts of the country as to a place of refuge, and people yesterday in flourishing circumstances are to day reduced to the greatest misery. Not less than twenty seven plantations have been attacked and the list of planters ruined by these vagabonds on the same day…

Free Press, February 21.13

Another attack took place at the mouth of the Serangoon River in 1855. Shopkeeper Tan Joo Hok, who lived near the New Market in New Bridge Road, fortunately survived the attack.14 As Tocksing’s Pauper Hospital (today’s Tan Tock Seng Hospital) stated:

We regret to notice the frequency of murderous attacks made by small parties of Malays on the Chinese in the interior, or coming from Johor, under circumstances which scarcely warrant the supposition that plunder is the object of the attack. On the 26th [of] April no less than four wounded men were conveyed to the Hospital, who had been attacked between Changee [sic] and the Johore river. On the 16th an unarmed Chinese and his two companions, coming from Johore, were set upon by Malays. We subjoin the deposition of one of the unfortunate men who was dangerously wounded; the wound laid the chest quite bare, as broad as the palm of the hand, and another on the side from which the breath escaped at each respiration, yet strange to say the man bore his suffering in the best humour, and is in a fair way of recovering, although after being wounded he remained in the water the whole night.

TOCKSING’S PAUPER HOSPITAL

April 17th, 1855 10 min. to 1 P.M.

Aukang in the 19th century, just like many parts of rural Singapore, was a dangerous and uncertain place then.

My Father's Kampung

Подняться наверх