The Sacred Daulat of Raja Melewar
In the ancient lands of Negeri Sembilan, where the descendants of the Minangkabau people had settled after crossing the vast seas from Sumatra, there lived scattered communities without a single ruler to unite them. These nine districts, rich with rice paddies and blessed by monsoon rains, had been governed by local chieftains called Dato Undang and village headmen known as Penghulu since the twelfth century. Yet despite their prosperity, discord festered among the people like weeds in an untended garden.
The wise elders, seeing that their realm lacked the strength that comes from unity, gathered in solemn council beneath the great banyan tree of Seri Menanti. They spoke in hushed tones of their homeland across the waters, where the great kingdom of Pagar Ruyung stood proud under the rule of Sultan Abdul Jalil. After much deliberation, they chose two noble emissaries, Panglima Bandut and Panglima Bandan, to sail across the treacherous straits and seek a prince who might unite their fractured land.
The year was 1773 when these brave messengers arrived at the golden palace of Pagar Ruyung. They knelt before Sultan Abdul Jalil and spoke thus: “Your Majesty, we come from the nine districts of Negeri Sembilan, where your people’s children have made their home. We beg you to send us a prince of your noble blood to rule over us, that we might prosper under one banner and live in harmony as our ancestors did.”
The Sultan, moved by their plea, summoned his son Raja Mahmud, who bore the title Raja Melewar. This prince was known throughout the kingdom for his wisdom, courage, and devotion to the ancient ways. “My son,” said the Sultan, “Heaven has chosen you for a great purpose. Go forth to Negeri Sembilan and unite the nine districts under your righteous rule.”
Before Raja Melewar’s departure, the Sultan entrusted him with the most sacred treasure of their lineage: the Daulat. This was an ancient copper vessel, passed down through generations of Minangkabau royalty, containing within it a single strand of hair so long and wondrous that it filled the entire container, coiling endlessly upon itself like the wisdom of ages. “This sacred relic,” the Sultan explained, “holds the spiritual power of our ancestors. When you face trials that seem insurmountable, seek guidance from the Daulat, and it shall show you the path to victory.”
Raja Melewar first sent ahead his trusted minister, Raja Khatib, to prepare the ceremonial rites and customs for his coronation. Meanwhile, the prince himself journeyed to the court of Sultan Mahmud Shah III of Johor, where he received the official seal and mandate to rule the districts of Negeri Sembilan. With blessings from both kingdoms, Raja Melewar felt confident that his reign would bring peace and prosperity to his new realm.
But evil had already taken root in the heart of Raja Khatib. Like a serpent that bites the hand that feeds it, this treacherous minister decided to claim the throne for himself. When he arrived in Negeri Sembilan, he spread false words among the chieftains and village headmen, declaring, “I am the one chosen to be your king, not Raja Melewar!” To strengthen his deception, he married the daughter of Penghulu Naam, the powerful chieftain of Seri Menanti, and gained the full support of his father-in-law.
When Raja Melewar landed at Naning with his loyal followers, he was forced to fight a fierce battle against the Bugis warriors led by Daeng Kemboja. Though the enemy fought with savage fury, Heaven favored the righteous prince, and his forces emerged victorious. The defeated Bugis fled like leaves scattered by a hurricane, and Raja Melewar continued his journey to Rembau, where he established his court in a village that would forever after be known as Kampung Astana Raja.
There, beneath the watchful eyes of the spirits of the land, Raja Melewar was crowned as Yang Dipertuan Negeri Sembilan. But his joy was short-lived, for messengers brought word of Raja Khatib’s treachery and his unholy alliance with Penghulu Naam. Upon hearing this news, Raja Khatib fled like a coward into the jungle, but Penghulu Naam remained defiant, refusing to acknowledge Raja Melewar as the rightful ruler.
The prince and his warriors marched through the treacherous pass of Bukit Putus toward Seri Menanti, their weapons gleaming in the tropical sun. When they arrived, Penghulu Naam stood before them in full battle regalia, his eyes burning with pride and stubborn rebellion. “I shall never bow to you, pretender!” he declared. “This land belongs to me and my bloodline!”
Thus began a terrible war that raged for many days and nights. The clash of steel rang through the valleys, and the earth trembled under the feet of warriors. At last, as the sun began to set on what seemed like the final day of battle, Raja Melewar and Penghulu Naam faced each other in single combat. They fought with the fury of tigers, neither giving ground, until at last the prince’s blade found its mark, and Penghulu Naam fell dead upon the battlefield. His body was buried where he had fallen, and all believed the conflict was at an end.
But on the very next night, when the moon was dark and the air heavy with supernatural dread, the people of Seri Menanti were awakened by terrible screams. For there, standing before Raja Melewar’s dwelling, was Penghulu Naam, returned from the grave! His eyes glowed with unholy fire, and his voice carried the chill of the tomb. “Come forth, usurper!” he cried. “Face me again, for death cannot hold me!”
Once more, the two warriors engaged in mortal combat, and once more, Raja Melewar struck down his undead foe. But when the third night came, the ghostly chieftain appeared again, and again he was defeated. Night after night, this horrible cycle repeated itself, filling the hearts of the people with terror and despair.
The frightened villagers whispered among themselves that Penghulu Naam must have practiced the darkest magic, making his body immune to the touch of death. They spoke of ancient curses and forbidden rituals that could bind a soul to the earthly realm, preventing it from finding peace in the afterlife.
Raja Melewar, deeply troubled by these supernatural events, withdrew to his private chambers and sat in meditation before the sacred Daulat. He prayed to his ancestors and to the spirits of the land, seeking wisdom to end this terrible haunting. As he concentrated his mind and opened his heart to divine guidance, the ancient relic began to glow with inner light.
From within the copper vessel came a voice like the whisper of wind through rice fields: “Noble prince, the dark magic that binds your enemy to this world can be broken, but only through a specific ritual. You must sever his head from his body and bury them separately, with a flowing river between the two resting places. Only then will his spirit be unable to reunite his earthly form, and peace will return to your land.”
When next Penghulu Naam appeared, emerging from the shadows like a nightmare made flesh, Raja Melewar was ready. With the help of his bravest warriors, he captured the undead chieftain and, following the sacred instructions, beheaded him with a single stroke of his ceremonial sword. That very night, they carried out the ritual burial as the Daulat had commanded.
The body of Penghulu Naam was interred atop a high hill that would forever after be known as Bukit Badan (Hill of the Body), while his severed head was buried on another hill across the valley, which became known as Bukit Tempurung (Hill of the Skull). Between these two hills flowed a swift river, its waters blessed by the prayers of the righteous, creating an eternal barrier that no evil magic could cross.
For several nights following the ritual, the people of Seri Menanti heard the ghostly voice of Penghulu Naam calling across the valley, pleading for his head and body to be reunited. His cries echoed through the darkness like the wail of a lost soul, growing weaker with each passing night. The sound filled the hearts of listeners with both pity and terror, for they understood that the chieftain’s spirit was finally being forced to accept defeat.
As the weeks passed, the ghostly voice grew fainter and fainter, until at last it faded away entirely, carried off by the wind like the last notes of a sorrowful song. The supernatural threat had been vanquished, and peace returned to the land of Negeri Sembilan.
Raja Melewar ruled wisely and justly for many years, bringing prosperity and harmony to the nine districts as had been prophesied. The people celebrated their unity with grand festivals, where they performed traditional dances and sang ancient songs of their Minangkabau heritage. The rice harvests were bountiful, trade flourished with neighboring kingdoms, and the sacred customs of their ancestors were preserved and honored.
When Raja Melewar passed away in 1795, he left behind a strong and unified kingdom. The throne passed to his son-in-law, Raja Hitam, who had married the prince’s beloved daughter, Tunku Puan Aishah. Thus began a royal lineage that would rule Negeri Sembilan for generations to come, each ruler carrying forward the wisdom and righteousness of the first Yang Dipertuan Besar.
And so the descendants of Raja Melewar continue to rule to this very day, reminding all who hear this tale that treachery and dark magic can never triumph over righteousness and divine wisdom. The sacred Daulat remains a symbol of the spiritual bond between the rulers and their people, and the two hills where Penghulu Naam lies buried serve as an eternal warning that those who choose the path of evil will ultimately face justice, whether in this world or the next.
Thus ends the tale of the treacherous chieftain and the sacred Daulat, a story that teaches us that true leadership comes not from force or deception, but from wisdom, courage, and the blessing of Heaven itself.