Travels in the Far East Part 10

The building above the three terraces consists of four parapeted galleries, erected upon the internal walls of the lower gallery, and of four upper terraces, the three highest of which are circular. The topmost terrace is crowned by a large cupola, or dagoba. The Boro Boedor, from its base to the top of the cupola, has a height of ninety-seven feet, while the elevation of the hill to the lower step is about fifty-five feet, making a total of one hundred and fifty-two feet.

Each of the lower galleries is about seven feet wide, the walls on either side being lined with sculptures which, if they could be extended in a line, would cover three miles. We walked around the galleries and ascended the steps.

In the lower gallery there is, beneath every Buddha, a representation of a man, on either side of which are groups of three figures, each bearing lotus flowers and fans.

The inner circle of the second gallery contains, in the upper row, bas-reliefs representing scenes connected with the history of Prince Siddhartha (Gautama) from his infancy to the period when he attained Nirvana.

The third gallery wall contains one hundred and eighty bas-reliefs, depicting the apotheosis of Buddha. The fourth, in eighty different scenes, pictures the rewards given to kings who have been Buddha wors.h.i.+ppers, while the fifth contains a large number of images of Buddha and of two kings, probably the founders of the temple. Other bas-reliefs that are interspersed represent fanciful subjects and scenes from life or are ill.u.s.trations of legends; one of the latter deals with the turtle, which is regarded as sacred by all true Buddhists.

Staircases ascend from gallery to gallery in a straight line on each of four sides. These have pointed arches with carved keystones, and formerly were guarded by heavy banisters and carved lions. The parapeted walls of the galleries were once decorated with four hundred and thirty-two niches, each with three turrets, and contained four hundred and thirty-two life-sized Buddhas, seated on lotus cus.h.i.+ons.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Boro Boedor, in Java_]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Stairway of Boro Boedor, Java_]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Boro Boedor, Java, showing one part of the gallery_]

The three upper circular terraces are individually adorned with thirty-two, twenty-four, and sixteen openwork bell-shaped cupolas, or dagobas, each containing a Buddha in sitting posture. Inside this circle rises the central dagoba of huge, imposing dimensions, the final crown to the whole structure. This is modelled after the same type as the smaller ones, but its walls rise perpendicularly from the base, which has the form of a huge lotus cus.h.i.+on in a beautiful frame, and ends at the top in a slightly rounded dome rising at least twenty-seven feet above the highest terrace. Of the cone which formerly surrounded this dagoba nothing is left except part of the pedestal, a stone block afterwards fas.h.i.+oned into a seat five feet high by ten feet broad. This is reached by some rough stone steps. The cupola, or dagoba, was at one time entirely closed, but when opened some years ago it was found to contain a large unfinished figure of Buddha.

Our party climbed to the seat alluded to, and what a view presented itself!--a wide valley or plain, miles in extent, surrounded by the towering Minoch mountains in the distance, with lesser mountains seemingly as foothills, but nevertheless some of them volcanic craters; villages almost concealed by the ma.s.ses of foliage, with whole tracts of palms and ma.s.ses of green,--and all bathed in the glorious sunlight. We sat spellbound, and finally descended the long flight of stairs feeling we had had a morning's experience which never could be repeated. In the words of Dr. Gronneman (to whom we owe a debt of grat.i.tude for his explanations), "upwards of a thousand years have since rolled over the Boro Boedor; earthquakes and ash showers have disjointed its walls, and rank vegetation has disintegrated its foundation, ... and shortsighted fanatics have defaced its works of art, but still the ruin stands there, an imposing fact, a powerful creation of the thinking mind, an epic in stone, immortal even in its decadence."

We walked to the pleasant rest house, called Pa.s.sagrahan, for our luncheon. Soon the rain which had threatened us fell in torrents, but neither this fact nor any other obstacle dimmed our enthusiasm as we sped on our homeward way. To prove my own absorption in the day's programme I would state that I amused the party on our arrival at the train by saying to our Malay servant, "Buddha, will you take my wrap?"

his name being Pandox.

The next morning I drove about Djokjakarta in search of photographs and found the place much more attractive than I had supposed. One long avenue of trees in particular impressed me; on alternate sides were the tamarind and the canary tree, forming a perfect arch overhead. This continued for a long way, and there were various other shaded streets that attracted my attention.

Djokjakarta is a place of importance, the capital of a native State; the Sultan preserves some semblance of power and lives in regal style, keeping up all the ceremonials of his high office. This was one of the last provinces to yield to Dutch rule. There is a Dutch resident to whom the Sultan must pay deference and from whom he accepts advice. We did not see the Sultan, but we saw four sons of his out driving, dressed in red and each carrying a red silk umbrella, the emblem of royalty.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _A public square in Djokjakarta, Java_]

The life at Djokjakarta is much like that of old Java, and the peasants are said to be of a higher type than those corresponding to the coolie cla.s.s in India and Ceylon, many of this cla.s.s in Java being Sudanese.

There are several strains of blood in Java, and a mixture of Arab ancestry with Mohammedan faith; for centuries, Java pa.s.sed through many transitions, and it would be interesting to trace her history backward.

Djokjakarta being but twelve miles from the Indian Ocean, the heat is never oppressive, and the breezes from sea and mountain produce an agreeable temperature, as I found one morning, much to my delight. The bazars were not enticing, but there were various attractive articles for sale at the hotel,--cardcases made with tiny feathers, portemonnaies, woven baskets, and, above all, sarongs, the product of a large factory near by, which has been fostered by English and Dutch women as a kind of philanthropy for the teaching and employment of girls, as the "manageress" at the hotel explained to us. These sarongs are four and a half yards long by one and one-half wide, the fabric, though heavier, being similar to calico. The patterns are quite artistic, and the process of designing, drawing, stamping, and weaving is complicated.

The Water Castle was formerly like a summer-house in an Oriental garden, with its underground chambers and all manner of appliances for luxurious ease. It has now fallen into decay; the aqueducts and fountains are stilled; the statues are covered with moss, and the gardens are a perfect tangle. It was the device of a Portuguese architect of a century ago.

The streets were less crowded in Djokjakarta than one would expect in a city which ranks the fifth in Java; everywhere there were groups of really happy-faced children, and mothers looking like mere girls, with infants carried usually on the left hip, sometimes in a sling over the shoulders. In Java, as in other countries we have visited, there is no middle-aged cla.s.s among the women; they are either young or old, although in reality not old. One is considerably handicapped in Java unless Dutch or the dialect can be spoken, for, in learning from others the true inwardness of things, we are powerless without language, however much we might supply certain physical needs by the use of pantomime.

MAOS, _February 25th_: At 2 P.M. on the 25th of February, we took the train for Maos, in order to break the long railway journey to Batavia.

The ride of three and a half hours carried us through the same diversified landscape of fertile fields or plains of rice, palms, and bamboo, with mountains in the distance. One feature, however, deserves special mention; it was a country roadway, visible at frequent intervals for at least two hours, and lined on each side with tall trees which met in many arches. This was evidently a highway or postroad, worthy of emulation in other lands, and planned by the Government, a veritable blessing to man and beast.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Designing sarongs in Batavia_]

We pa.s.sed a comfortable night in Maos at the Government rest house, Staats, and left at the early hour of 6 A.M. for a return journey to Batavia. We found that when we reached a junction, our train diverged over a new route, giving us a different outlook, not unlike our first experience, but, it seemed, with finer mountain scenery. First we climbed to an alt.i.tude of about twenty-two hundred feet; then gradually descended, our objective point, Batavia, being at sea-level. Many of the high mountains showed cultivation to the very top, while the plains with their alternate groups of bamboo, cocoanut, and other palms, were green with the new rice crop, the cultivation of this commodity being different in Java from that in Burma. Great care is expended on the culture of the rice, the tiny plants first being put in small wet enclosures; then, when sufficiently developed, they are planted separately by the small army of workers, in receptacles made for them, and set with the greatest regularity. The workers consist usually of women or young girls, and the varied colors of their dress--or undress--presented a marked feature. We also saw more coffee cultivated than on any previous route, and it is to be regretted that the blight of ten years ago has taken this old form of industry from the Javanese.

Strange as it may seem, we had no Java coffee in Java, the land of the celebrated brand; nor did we see anything but a very strong extract of coffee (to which was added a large quant.i.ty of milk), good and convenient, no doubt, but not at all like the real article.

We arrived in Batavia during the afternoon; the hotel wore a homelike air, and we pa.s.sed a restful twenty-four hours with only a drive as the regular programme. I have already treated of the marked natural advantages of Java, and of the temples; too much cannot be said of this "Garden of the East," with its varied landscape of alternating mountains and plains, its wealth of trees in myriad forms, its shrubs which in their luxuriance seem tree-like, and its tangle of vines and blossoming flowers. But it appeared to me as if this holiday side of nature and the workaday aspect of the life in Java did not harmonize, and I wondered if this condition was caused by Dutch thrift being grafted on to the native Javanese temperament, which in its incipiency was simple and disinclined to much exertion. Certain it is that the women of Java, while apparently contented, look careworn and have deep lines in their faces, and the perfect cultivation of the soil,[5] which is largely done by women, shows that constant toil must be required of them. Added to this is the care of a bevy of little ones--more infants to the square yard than I had ever seen before.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Landscape near Batavia_]

These true children of Nature are seemingly trusting and believing, and they ask no better fate than they have. The question obtrudes itself, Would life have been easier if the English had not again ceded Java to Holland in 1816, after only a five years' tenure? This query regarding the Orient in general also comes up: Is it better to leave the peoples undisturbed in their ignorance of the broader life and higher conditions, or to try to teach them ways foreign to their nature,--efforts which might end in failure? This is the problem that confronts the philanthropist at every turn, and were it not for the possibility of alleviating the condition of womanhood, it might be well to abandon all charitable effort. Scientists believe, nevertheless, that while it will be a slow, laborious process, much can be done in time; it behooves us who have our homes in a country where it is a pleasure to live not to turn a deaf ear to appeals like that made by Ramabai, who at Pina, near Bombay, is laboring to uplift the condition of child widows in India. The great volume of missionary effort is also turned in the same direction, and through schools and hospitals the social workers are paving the way toward better conditions, in spite of the criticism of some who derisively speak of the failure to "save souls," without thinking that the first step is to emanc.i.p.ate the body.

When I regard the condition of the women of the Orient, I feel like starting an immediate crusade--in Egypt they are slaves or toys; in India, bound by the iron laws of custom and caste, sad and dejected; in Burma, happy because independent on business and property lines, thanks to the English Government; in Ceylon, cheerful but with no recognized positions; in Java, children of toil; in Siam, fearless and intrepid in temperament, but subject to the conditions of the Orient; in China, Manchuria, and Korea, seemingly impa.s.sive but bound by traditional customs, enforced for centuries; in j.a.pan, bright and winsome, true children of Nature, still held by the customs of years, however much the barriers are being broken down by the progressive policy of the country.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Javanese vegetable sellers_]

As tourists remaining but a short time in a place, we did not have the pleasure of meeting the higher cla.s.s of women in any of the countries visited, but I saw a Javanese lady in Kyoto who dined several times with an English lady; her self-possession and dignity of manner were pleasant to note, while her responsive smile showed quick intelligence. She had been the wife of an English gentleman for twenty years, but still wore the graceful kimono, which showed her good sense. Strange as it may seem, the founder of Buddhism, with all his teaching of love to mankind, filial duty, kindness to animals, and moral precepts in general, failed to extend to women, for whom he is said to have had little respect, any encouragement other than the abolis.h.i.+ng of the law of caste. But, notwithstanding, he had many women followers, some even becoming nuns.

The vehicles of the countries we visited were always individual, and I have failed to allude to the peculiar sadoe of Java, a two-wheeled cart drawn by a small horse, a seat for four persons being placed over the axle. The driver is comfortable, but the pa.s.sengers with no backs for support are tossed about unmercifully. This sadoe has a canopy top; it is like the jinrikisha, convenient for a shopping excursion, but I pity any one who attempts to take a long drive in it! One morning I went out alone, and in turning a street corner I was nearly thrown and my packages flew in every direction. I felt that I needed a little sympathy, but the imperturbable Dutch coachman(?) never even smiled, so I concluded it was an every-day occurrence. A dignitary with attendants on each side carrying umbrellas is amusing.

The variety of fruit is greater in Java than anywhere else we had been; the bananas, however, while fine to look upon were coa.r.s.e and had little flavor; the pineapples were not as excellent as in Ceylon, nor were the mangosteens. A photograph I have shows at least twenty-five varieties of fruit; the pisang being universally used, as well as the rambutan, durian, pomalo, and papaya. The bread-fruit and jack-fruit grow to enormous size.

At luncheon (_riz taffel_) I again noticed a peculiar dish being served.

This consisted of rice, vegetables of various sorts, four or five kinds of meat, and a wonderful mixture of condiments, the variety sometimes including twenty, all placed in one receptacle similar to a deep soup-plate and evidently enjoyed by the partakers; this was only one course of the luncheon!

[Ill.u.s.tration: _A Javanese dignitary and his attendants_]

The Dutch ways of dressing in Java are truly remarkable; for instance, sarongs, thin jackets, and almost bare feet were often seen in a dining-room. To me the culmination of this unconventionality came later; the heat was so oppressive that after luncheon I was glad to enjoy a rocker on my gallery, and might have envied the couple on the adjoining gallery had I been differently educated. For, strangely, the lady wore only a sarong of thin material, a diaphanous jacket, and very low sandals; she might almost have posed as a life model. As a foil, her husband appeared in pajamas.

At 3 P.M. on February 22nd, we took a train for Priok port, which was nine miles distant. The steamer _Orange_ (of the Dutch line) was waiting for us, and we were soon sailing for Singapore. Once more we pa.s.sed the equator without one thrill of excitement, and, after thirty-six hours, were at Singapore, where we were at once transferred to the steamer _Nuen-tung_ (the Chinese for "good luck"), North German Lloyd line, bound for Bangkok, Siam, the trip requiring four and a half days. The steamer was small and only fairly comfortable; the service was Chinese.

A pleasant feature of the arrangement was an improvised dining-room on the upper deck; here all our meals were served, and most of our time pa.s.sed, the temperature being high enough to prevent the chilling of the food, which is an indication that the heat must have been rather oppressive when in our staterooms. Hence two-thirds of the pa.s.sengers slept on deck, resulting at about nine in the evening in a veritable transformation scene. In India we had escaped insects and reptiles; we were very fortunate also in Burma, with only a few singing lizards in Ceylon; but on this steamer the c.o.c.kroaches which appeared at night were marvellous in size and blackness. Once I imagined there was one on my pillow, and turning on the electric light, found I was mistaken, but there were a dozen or more on the washstand and walls--very animated specimens, to judge by the way they fled.

From the Strait of Malacca we pa.s.sed into the China Sea, thence to the Gulf of Siam, and lastly to the broad Menam River, with banks showing ma.s.ses of foliage, and with tiny Siamese villages or isolated houses built close to the water's edge, supported on piles, with thatched roofs and sides.

BANGKOK, _March 4th_: Arriving at Bangkok, we took the steamer launch for the Oriental Hotel, which is situated on the river-bank. The ca.n.a.ls leading out of the river reminded us of Batavia. A drive in the afternoon of our arrival, accompanied by the Rev. Mr.----, a medical missionary, as a non-professional guide, was a new experience and an agreeable one, for during the afternoon and evening we learned many things about the King that a native guide would not have told us. The report showed the King to be progressive in his tendencies; as the result of several trips to Europe, he has introduced railways, telegraph and modern business appliances, and is making a great effort to beautify the city and to improve sanitary conditions, having employed French engineers for that purpose.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _The King of Siam_]

I think it might be well to give a slight historical background in order the better to understand the conditions of Siam. It is thought that the aborigines of Siam were driven out by Laos tribes from the North and that they then adopted the name Thai as a sign of victory, Siam signifying progress.

In 1350, Ayuthia, a few miles north of Bangkok, became the capital; for three centuries Siam was prosperous and opened trade relations with China. There were, however, many raids and much fighting until 1536, when the King was taken prisoner.

The Portuguese commenced trading with Siam early in the sixteenth century, and soon after gave the Siamese military aid against their border foes, the troops coming from Goa. As a reward for their services they were offered land on which to settle. Later, the soldiers married Siamese women and became domesticated. As they had brought their Catholic priests with them, conversion of the natives followed, and some of the old settlements retain their Christian character to this day.

A few years after the Portuguese advent, the Dutch came, but the English did not arrive until 1620, and during the latter part of the seventeenth century the three nations were seeking trade relations.

Great toleration and friendliness to other countries seemed to have been practiced even in that early day; French missionaries were also welcomed. Soon after, a Siamese emba.s.sy left with presents for King Louis of France, but they were s.h.i.+pwrecked on the way. Later, another emba.s.sy went to Versailles, and Louis XIV, much flattered, sent a return emba.s.sy, which was accorded a great reception in Lopburi, where a treaty was signed in 1605, sanctioning the presence of French missionaries.

There were several subsequent upheavals at Ayuthia, and in 1767 the city fell under the strong Burman attack; thus ended the third dynasty of Siamese kings. The Burmans, however, were soon conquered, and the capital was moved to Bangkok. In the middle of the nineteenth century, treaties were made with Great Britain and the other important powers, while Cambodia was ceded to France.

The present monarch, Chulalongkorn, ascended the throne in 1868, and has since governed the country consistently and well. In May, 1874, a political const.i.tution was adopted. The King began his reign by decreeing that slavery be abolished, and he inst.i.tuted several other reforms. For many years troublous times with France ensued; this finally aroused the indignation of England, and in 1896 an Anglo-French agreement was signed in London, by which both countries guaranteed to maintain the integrity of the Menam valley.

Siam has during the past few years made rapid progress in the adoption of Western ways and Western ideals, thanks to the progressive King, and this is attracting visitors from Europe and America more and more. The country's position has kept it rather isolated; it is out of the beaten track, and is situated between the great commercial ports of Singapore and Hong-Kong. Until recently it could not be reached by any pa.s.senger steams.h.i.+p lines. One's impression of the kingdom must be formed largely from Bangkok, as the mountain districts offer no facilities for the comfort of visitors, being a decided contrast to Ceylon, Burma, and Java in this respect.

The area of Siam is about two hundred thousand square miles, and the population is over six million,--mostly native, for there are not over twenty thousand representatives of other powers in the kingdom, nor are there more than two thousand Europeans.

Bangkok, like Rangoon, has enormous exports of rice, teak, and many other commodities; there are large rice factories, and we saw the elephants dragging logs to the river, as in Rangoon, whence they are brought on rafts to the immense sawmills. Unfortunately, a shallow bar at the mouth of the Menam River prevents the pa.s.sage of large vessels.