TEMPLE OF WAT-CHAN-TONG.
March thirtieth.Yesterday we visited a wat or pagoda, built by the present king, when he was prince Chroma Chiat; it is called wat-chan-tong, or “the temple of the golden sandal tree;” it is situated about six or seven miles from the outlet of Bang-kok Yai, into the Menam. The company consisted of the Rev. Mr. Jones, and Doctor Ticknor; a boat and rowers were sent to us by the praklang. The buildings are more substantial, and in better order, than any I have heretofore seen; hewn granite steps and pillars were about the principal entrances; the floors of the temples were of marble tessellated; the walls leading to the temples, and the dwellings of the Talapoys, were of square pieces of split granite; and there was a greater air of neatness about them, than any we have yet viewed. Noble banyan, and the religious fig-tree, shaded the walks; large porcelain figures of men, and non-descript beasts, embellished the fronts of churches, the entrances into the outer courts.
There are two islets near to the landing place, having on them miniature temples, and small images, overshadowed by noble banyan trees, which are to be found in great abundance every where in the vicinity of Bang-kok. It is one of the most curious of nature’s productions: each full-sized tree is a grove; for every branch, on reaching the ground, vegetates and increases to a large trunk, and these again send forth others, till, from old age and exhaustion, the parent dies, and the progeny gradually decay for want of sustenance, leaving a forest in ruins. It affords most beautiful walks, vistas, and cool recesses; and bears a small fig, which is scarlet when ripe, and affords a luxuriant repast to monkeys and peacocks, and other birds, which inhabit this father of trees, that shades and protects their young, in cool recesses, from a burning sun, where they sport and idle their leisure hours away, free from cares, excepting from the mischievous monkey, which robs them oftheir eggs, or the wily serpent, that beguiles them of their tender progeny.
The principal wat is occupied by a colossal figure of Budha, lying on his right side, supported by the elbow and hand, and seven square and triangular pillows, with ornamented ends of coloured glass. It is of the enormous length ofsixty-threefeet, having on its head a high peaked cap. The “phra-bat,” or “holy feet,” are each six feet nine inches in length, having five toes, all of equal length, being one less than the Budha of the Burmese. It is made of brick and stuccoed; but overlaid with heavy gilding, highly burnished. It was covered, on its exposed or left side, with yellow, or talapoy cloth, and canopied by an enormous yellow umbrella. Many priests and young students of the monastery accompanied us. They were asked why the idol was protected with cloths, and the umbrella? They replied, that the great Budha would be offended if neglected, and he ought to be kept warm. As the thermometer was little short of one hundred, and we were panting for breath, with the perspiration running from us in streams, they were told that all clothing was oppressive; but they said, they dared not neglect him. They were also asked, how long he was to lie? They said, about three thousand years, when Budha would be annihilated, or his authority rather would cease.
The ceiling of the wat was painted of a rich vermillion, and “thickly inlaid with patines of bright gold.” The walls, and inside of the doors and window-shutters, were entirely covered with rural and aquatic scenes, birds, flowers, &c., &c.; all rich with gold and beautiful colours, highly varnished, displaying a cultivated taste. The doors, at the entrance, were most splendidly inlaid with mother-of-pearl, wrought into various and elegant devices. Surrounding the wall of the court-yard, was an extensive corridor, containing eighty Budhas, of about four feet high, in a sitting posture generally, while others were standing. At the feet of each were two smaller sized devotees, kneeling and facing them, with their hands spread out and united in the attitude of prayer. These, together with a group of eight in one corner, made, altogether, two hundred and forty-six images, being all highly burnished with gold. Other images, of women, are scattered about the court; and the two gigantic warriors, as usual, placed as guards at its common entrance. The Indian lotus was growing in handsome vases ofgranite, porcelain, and marble. There was also a large gilt image in a sitting posture, made of a composition of copper, tin, and zinc. The ceiling, walls, &c., were nearly similarly painted to the other, having a tessellated marble pavement; but the doors were painted black, with borders of richly gilded flowers. A devotee had taken up his lodging within the temple, near one of the doors, and was then praying at the feet of the image. He passed his days there, and at night watered his couch with his tears, in the vain expectation that, at his death, Budha would cause his soul to be transmigrated into a higher and holier state of existence.
There were about one hundred and fifty Talapoys generally at this monastery. Here, also, was a small deep bathing place, having in it a number of small alligators—they are common. We passed a great number of temples, and counted twenty-five on this route. The banks were thickly inhabited, having a low but rich country; and the various fruit and flowering forest trees, by which it was overshadowed, contributed greatly to its beautiful scenery. Boats were continually passing in great numbers, variously laden. The fronts of the cottages being open, all the domestic operations were fully seen. At the foot of the ladder, childhood and old age were seen, bathing in the turbid waters of this tributary of the Menam, all seemingly happy, although living under one of the most despotic governments in the world.
On our return, observing an artificial mound near a small wat with a gilded front, we were induced to stop and examine it; it was in height about twenty feet, built of brick and overlaid with rough pieces of rock. We entered by a flight of steps into some dark winding passages in imitation of caverns—on the step was a small temple court and a relic of gautama, which we were unable to see owing to the Talapoy who had charge of it being asleep. The thermometer being at ninety-five, with a dead oven-like heat, we were glad to retreat to some cooler place. Proceeding on by another route, we saw a number of Talapoys, collected near to a place for the burning of the dead, under a high pyramidal shed placed amid a grove of the religious fig-tree: we landed and proceeded to the spot. In the centre of the building, on a brick platform, was placed a bier of seven or eight feet in height—the sides which concealed the body were covered with white muslin and the top, &c., ornamented with yellow tinsel; the bier, I suppose, was of wood,but it was neatly covered with plantain stock, and being fresh cut resembled ivory with a slight tinge of yellow: fanciful devices were cut in the sides and red paper inserted, which gave it a very neat and finished appearance. In each corner were raised platforms, and on one of them sat fifteen or twenty Talapoys, having before them a feast of nice things, such as rice cooked in various ways, sweetmeats and fruits, and a pile of yellow cloth, all of which were presents, from the parents of a dead daughter, lying before these senseless worshippers of idols. They were talking aloud and laughing, apparently insensible to the solemn occasion for which they were assembled: being disgusted with their conduct, and finding that the ceremony would not take place until three in the afternoon, we left the place intending to return in due time.
FIRE-FEEDERS.
At the appointed hour, we were again there, but the burning had commenced half an hour previously: a part of the scull was remaining, the head having separated from the body: the back bone was nearly entire as well as part of the limbs; two grim looking fellows were replenishing and stirring the fire with three-pronged forks, smoking cigars, and laughing as though they were attending a baker’s oven. They were constantly employed in going from this funeral pile to another, situated in the open air, a short distance off, where was consuming the body of a dead slave.
Besides the “fire-feeders,” there was assembled a party of young females, acquaintances of the deceased girl, waiting to collect the unconsumed bones, that they might be conveyed to the mourning parents: they were decent in their behaviour, but there were no visible signs of grief on their countenances at this sad spectacle; they were seated on one of the raised platforms, chewing areca-nut, and talking with considerable earnestness—but the instant they saw us, they started on their feet, and exhibited very strong symptoms of curiosity; probably, many of them had never seen a white person before, and our dress, of course, appeared strange to those who were only accustomed to the sight of a waist-cloth. They inquired of a gentleman who spoke Siamese and English, if we came to see a body burnt, or what was the object of our visit: we told them it was to see a body burnt, and to view the temple near by. They asked us to look at the remains, on the funeral pile, and see if we could tell whether it was a male or female, (for the natives are under the impression that Europeansknow every thing, and all the European race even if born in America, are called Europeans.) They were told after taking a view of them, that they were those of a female. At this answer, they held up their hands, and appeared to be exceedingly astonished, for they were not aware that we had ascertained this fact in the morning. We immediately left them, not wishing to be questioned further, and they are under the delusion without doubt, that we do, indeed, “know every thing.”
The poor slave who has just been mentioned, must have had a friend who was willing to pay the expenses of the burning to the Talapoys, oraliasthe phratais or phra-bo-coots as they are called in Siamese, otherwise he would have been thrown without ceremony into the Menam and become food for fish or alligators. A worthless priesthood, whodailyspunge the most abject in society of their scanty pittance of rice, clothing, or fruit, refuse even a few sticks of wood to consume the dead bodies of their poor benefactors, and to recite a few heathenish prayers without being amply paid for their trouble; but the priests of Budha are not the only ones who exact payment for what is obviously their bounden duty. Some of the Christian churches, even in this vicinity, as well as those of other countries, will be paid for burying their dead, and saying mass for the repose of departed souls.
BURNING THE DEAD.
The ceremony of burning the dead may be witnessed almost daily, between noon and three o’clock, within the precincts of the temples. During the ceremony, music of a most discordant kind is frequently introduced. The instruments are noisy and consist of gongs, drums, &c., &c. Prayers, written in the Pah language on slips of palm-leaf, are first read by a priest from a pulpit; females and males set beneath it each holding a taper: the language is probably unintelligible to every one present, for most of the priests can barely read it, and few of them understand it.
These places are generally thronged with idle persons, who take no part in the ceremonies, and walk in and out talking and smoking cigars, &c., &c. At the head of the coffin is a piece of white cloth; a number of priests take hold of it on each side, reciting certain prayers—this being ended, the coffin and bier are dismantled, the body is washed by one of the servants of the pagoda, who is always paid a small fee for this most disgusting piece of service. Bodies are frequently kept for days in this sultry climate, and then theoffice is no sinecure—it is truly loathsome. The ablution being concluded, a layer of wet earth is laid on the bier and dry wood is piled upon it—the body is then replaced in the coffin, and carried three successive times around the altar by the nearest male relatives, and afterward deposited upon the pile; tapers and incense rods are distributed to all who will receive them; a priest delivers a final prayer, then sets fire to the funeral pile, and is followed by all who receive tapers and rods for that purpose. The scull is always broken with a heavy bar of iron, to prevent, as they say, an explosion and scattering of the bones and brains. Small pieces of money are now distributed to objects of charity, who are always in waiting at these places at the usual hours, and are disappointed if there are no rich victims ready for the funeral pile; sometimes the male relatives throw bundles of cloth over the pile—those on the opposite side carefully catch them, and in other cases it is dispensed with.
No explanation of this singular piece of ceremony could ever be obtained. I ought to have mentioned, previously, a horrible custom which occasionally prevails here: many Siamese give directions that their dead bodies shall be stripped of the flesh and given to dogs, and carniverous birds, which infest the neighbourhood of the altars, and the bones only are burnt. This is considered to be both laudable and charitable. The unconsumed bones are carefully collected, prayers are recited over them, and various ceremonies are performed by the priests. They are then burnt to ashes, reduced into a paste with water, and then formed into a small figure of Budha, and gilded; the latter is then placed among the household gods, or deposited in a temple of Budha. If any important branch of the family die, it is carried in procession, and this is called “the procession of the bones of their ancestors.” But as the priests are very exorbitant in their demands for this small piece of service, none but the richer class can afford the expense.
MISSIONARIES.
I omitted to mention the arrival, some days since, from Singapore, of the English schoonerReliance, commanded by an American, Captain Burgess of Maine, and owned by Robert Hunter, a Scotch gentleman, who has been trading for eight or nine years past between Singapore and some of the ports on the eastern side of the Malay peninsula, but more particularly with this place. In this vessel came an American Baptist missionary, the ReverendJohn Taylor Jones—wife, child, and servants: he has been residing for about two years past at Maulmein, in Burmah, but latterly at Rangoon. He had been expected for some months, and a house was preparing for him by the very respectable Mr. Silveiro, the Portuguese consul at Cokai, near a campong of Burmese. I immediately wrote a note and sent it to the roads, about forty or fifty miles distant, offering them every accommodation in our extensive house, until they should be able to take possession of their own. Two days afterward, the family arrived with the exception of Mr. Jones, who came the following day, and remained with us till every thing was arranged. Their house is a tolerably comfortable one for the climate; they appear to be well satisfied with it, and their contiguity to Mr. Silveiro, who speaks French, English, and Siamese, and is able to give every sort of information relative to the people and the country, having resided here about thirteen years. The house is situated a short distance back from the river, amidst palm and other trees, and is surrounded by a dense population. The house formerly occupied by the Reverend Mr. Tompkin, an Englishman, Mr. Gutzlaff, a Prussian, and Mr. Abeel an American, all missionaries, residing here within the last few years, is a short distance from it, and immediately on the banks of the Menam; it is a very small cottage, fit only for humble dwellers, and the very appearance of it, with the very respectable men who occupied it, will convince any one, that a life of luxury and indolence was not their object in leaving their country and their homes, and all that was dear to them; but to go about doing good in the cause of Christ, according to their best abilities.
These worthy men did much good when they were here, by administering medicines to the sick, and in many instances, no doubt, in distributing useful and religious tracts in the Siamese and Chinese languages; but the injudicious though well-meant zeal of Mr. Gutzlaff in the very outset, within the first two days of his arrival, gave great cause of offence to the government; for he immediately threw many thousands of tracts into every floating house, boat and junk, as well as into cottages. An order was issued for his immediate expulsion from the country, and that his tracts should be collected and burnt; and had it not been for the friendly interference and good management of Mr. Hunter, who was a favourite with the praklang, the order would have been executed.
The king ordered a translation of the tracts to be made, which was done very fairly; he read them and said candidly and openly that there was nothing objectionable in them, but he preferred his own religion. The government raise no objections to Christian missionaries residing in the country, and it is as favourably disposed toward them as can be expected, considering the great influence of the Budha priests; but missionaries must never suffer their zeal to transport them beyond the bounds of common prudence. A certain sect of Christians here are very inimical to Protestant missionaries, much more so, I am credibly informed, than the Talapoys, who believe themselves so firmly seated that they do not trouble themselves about the Protestant preachers. As a convincing proof that the government is far from being unfriendly to missionaries, the praklang sent down a good covered boat, expressly to convey Mr. Jones and his family to their new residence, at Cokai, two miles distant from our house. Mr. Jones was introduced by Mr. Hunter to the praklang, who received him with apparent kindness.
It it said, by some, that this favourable reception is owing to his being an American citizen, and because of the friendly terms existing between the government of Siam and the United States. It is true, without doubt, that the king openly expressed much gratification, that an American man-of-war had arrived with an envoy, for the purpose of forming a treaty of amity and commerce. This fact was named to me repeatedly, by the praklang and by others, who daily attend the court. His Siamese majesty immediately ordered his best unoccupied building to be prepared for us, (and it certainly is the best on the river;) two of his best war-boats to be sent to bring us to the city, and a feast to be prepared by the governor of Packnam; and on our arrival at the house, every comfort and every luxury were spread on the table; and cook, purveyor, servants, interpreters, and guards, at our service. The praklang was ordered to facilitate the speedy execution of the treaty, &c.
All this was very gratifying; but, under the frequent delays and obstructions thrown in the way of the treaty by the praklang, influenced, probably, by the preference which the government people of Siam were said to have for my countrymen, it is said by Mr. S. and by many others, to have been the most extraordinary instance of despatch ever known in the history of diplomacy inthis country, even when an enemy was at their door. Their friendly disposition towards us was confirmed by Major Burney, who was sent to Siam, by the governor-general of India, about six years since, now ambassador at the court of Ava. He informed Mr. Jones, that the Americans were decidedly preferred to any other foreigners. He was detained here about seven months, and met with a thousand vexations. He was not more successful in his negotiations than we were, although aided by the sacrifice of the king of Quedah, and the fears the Siamese have of their English neighbours in Burmah, and the Malay peninsula. Mr. Crawford, his predecessor, likewise, who came here for a similar purpose, in 1812, was detained several months, treated with insult, and dismissed without obtaining a single commercial advantage. I omitted to mention that Mr. Abeel is held here in the highest estimation, by those who have the pleasure of his acquaintance. He possesses talents of a very superior order, and acquirements that do great credit to his industry; is mild and conciliating in his manners, forcible in his arguments, yet possessing a sufficient degree of zeal, never giving offence to the government, nor creating dislike by being over-zealous, and thereby disgusting the natives; but the bad state of his health would not permit him to remain on this good missionary ground, which may be made, in a few years, ready for the harvest. Missionary stations should never be left vacant, and several teachers should be on the spot at the same time, so as to be able to relieve each other occasionally. The language of the country must first be learned, and at least a partial knowledge obtained of the Mandarin and Fo-kien languages of China. Missionaries should also be well acquainted with the peculiar doctrines of the Budhists, which they are labouring to subvert: free schools should be established; a printing-press put in operation, and those children should be preferred who have never attended the schools of the Talapoys. Although a good wife contributes in a thousand ways to the comfort and convenience of the missionary, yet the prejudices of the people they visit should be consulted, at least for the present; for the Siamese are firm in their opinion, that the vow of perpetual celibacy should be observed by all who bear the title of priests, of Christians as well as worshippers of Budha. All missionaries should also have some knowledge of medicine and surgery.
CHINESE JUNKS—MECHANIC ARTS OF SIAM—AMUSEMENTS—DANCING SNAKES—ANNUAL OATH OF ALLEGIANCE—DESCRIPTION OF THE CAPITAL—EMBASSY FROM COCHIN-CHINA—EDUCATION IN SIAM—PALACE.
CHINESE JUNKS—MECHANIC ARTS OF SIAM—AMUSEMENTS—DANCING SNAKES—ANNUAL OATH OF ALLEGIANCE—DESCRIPTION OF THE CAPITAL—EMBASSY FROM COCHIN-CHINA—EDUCATION IN SIAM—PALACE.
The climate of Siam is more healthy than that of Batavia. Notwithstanding the great heat of the climate, and the vast quantity of uncleaned and undrained land, epidemics do not often prevail; yet the spasmodic cholera, a few years since, swept off upward of sixty thousand inhabitants.
During our stay, the weather has been clear and serene, a breeze visiting us about the middle of the day; yet the thermometer has ranged 93°, and has frequently been 94° and 95°. No one has been sick, excepting of complaints in the bowels, occasioned by a change of diet.
The profuse perspiration under which we suffered, day and night, considerably exhausted our strength. Those pests of all swampy countries, moschetoes and other insects, have not appeared in such vast quantities as they do in the rainy season, nor reptiles, which then abound every where; nor is the heat so great as it will be within the next four or five months, when the thermometer will rise from 100° to 103°; yet, it is said, the climate then is not more unhealthy than it is at present. Where the ship lies, the thermometer has not risen above 84°, and prevailing winds have been from the southward, blowing fresh the most part of the time, with a considerable sea. During the heat of the day, notwithstanding bathing is resorted to, and the natives are often seen with a wet cloth on their shoulders, to keep them cool and mitigate the effects of a scorching sun; yet it is a rare circumstance to see any of them with a covering on the head, excepting the women-pedlars on the river, who wear a palm-leaf hat, the exact shape of a milk-pan reversed; this is kept on the head by means of a frame-work,made of split rattan; their dress also is different from other women’s being a tight cotton jacket, with sleeves, and the usual waist-cloth worn by both sexes.
It is surprising how few of the mechanic arts are here practised, excepting those which are connected with the building of junks and boats; and in this case, strickly speaking, there are but two or three employed. The carpenter, who builds the vessel, makes the masts and wooden anchors, and the very few blocks that are used; pumps are not known, for the water is bailed out from vessels of one thousand tons burden. They go to market and buy their mats to make sails, which are spread out on the ground within certain pegs, which give the proper dimensions and shape; the bolt-rope is then sowed on, being made of a species of very coarse strong grass, abounding every where; and the sailmakers, being the sailors of the vessel, make the cordage generally, and assist in making the immense cables. Blacksmiths are necessarily employed to make bolts, and calkers are indispensable.
CHINESE JUNKS.
A true Chinese junk is a great curiosity; the model must have been taken originally from a bread-trough, being broad and square at both ends—when light, (I speak of a large one,) it is full thirty feet from the surface of the water to the tafferel, or the highest part of the poop. Forward, a wide clear space intervenes, where the cable is worked, there being a stage erected, some twelve or fifteen feet above the forecastle, on which they help to work and keep a lookout for sail. The mainmast is a most enormous stick of teak or other hard wood, big enough for a line-of-battle ship, on which they hoist an enormous sail, which generally takes all the crew, consisting of at least a hundred or a hundred and fifty men; when they wish to lower it, it is necessary to send a number of men on the bamboo poles, which stretch from side to side, to assist in its descent. A small mast, the after or mizen mast, is placed on one side, not in the centre as in other vessels, but stepped or secured on the deck. The enormous cable is hove up by a common windlass, without the assistance of pauls, stretching from side to side of the vessel, through the bulwarks. The centre of the vessel is at least fifteen or twenty feet lower than the tafferel, open for the most part amidships, planks being placed here and there to step on. There is tier upon tier of cabins aft. The hold is divided into compartments and made water proof; these are hiredor owned by the shippers, so that each one keeps his goods separately; and in case the vessel spring a leak, in any particular part, it is more easily repaired. The caboose is on one side; and their meals, as at home, are made of rice and salt or fresh vegetables, and perhaps a little fish, and of every cheap article, however unsavoury, served up in a great number of small saucers.
The vessels are kept in a most filthy condition, and can be scented a long way off. Scenes of the grossest debauchery are practised on board these junks; and gambling is carried on to a great extent. They are called either male or female, according to the shape—the former being sharp aft, if not forward; but these are considered to be illegitimate upstarts of modern date, and are not the true Chinese junk. The female has an enormous broad convex stern, there being a hollow or cavity, where the broad, clumsy, grating-like rudder is placed; it probably recedes two feet from the quarters to the sternpost. They are generally painted white and red, perhaps blue, and the two enormous eyes of vigilance are ever to be seen on each bow. On the stern, all the art of the painter is exhausted by a profusion of meretricious ornaments—an eagle, or what is intended for one, occupies the centre of the stern, surrounded by all sorts of non-descript figures, and on one side of the counter is a Josh, or god of wealth, resembling in shape Toby Filpot, besides a great variety of indescribable nothings.
The boat is exceedingly stout and clumsy, and an exact counterpart of the junk, being of an oblong square, nearly flat, and propelled by a long oar, placed on a swivel.
Another kind of mechanics, are tin and leather-dressers, which, strange to say, are always to be found in the same shop. The makers of qualtahs, or iron pots and pans, which are a very neat, light article, and little liable to be broken, owing to the ductility or toughness of the iron. These pots are sold at a cheap rate, and are preferred to all cast-iron vessels imported from Europe. Some iron is also made into small bars or pieces. There are also makers of sandals, which articles are worn only by the Chinese. The tin-ware is very neatly made, and the patterns show a good deal of taste; but it is useless to put on the fire, as there is no alloy mixed with it. The leather is died a common red, made ofdeer-skin, and smoothed by a black stone, the size of a brick; it is used for mattresses, pillows, &c. House-carpenters, canoe, and boat builders, and a few makers of musical instruments, with a little coarse pottery, and a few ordinary knives and locks, comprise all the mechanic arts that have fallen within my knowledge. Gold and silversmiths, I have nowhere seen; if there were any, who possessed such ingenuity, they would be seized upon by the king or his officers, and employed in their service. The gold vessels, containing areca, cigars, &c., &c., are carried to every place they visit, by the princes and higher officers of government, are made at the palace, and can only be used by the king’s favourites. I have seen a few rude hand-looms in operation; but the fabrics, both of silk and cotton, were very ordinary.
They import their brass ware and silk stuffs from China and Surat, and their cotton and woollen goods, cutlery, &c., principally from Singapore. Even the Talapoys’ razors for shaving their heads, are imported from Canton: they are made of thin brass, of a curved shape, about two inches wide throughout, and six inches long, fixed into a coarse wooden handle. The mechanic arts are carried on almost wholly by the industrious Chinese. The common houses are of bamboo, with attap roofs; some are built of wood, and few of brick; but with few exceptions, they all stand upon high piles. They are thus raised, in consequence of the inundation of the river, to make them more secure against depredations, to keep them dry, and to avoid the numerous reptiles. The bridges which cross the canals, are generally a single plank; some few have timbers laid on apartments of wood or brick, planked, and about six feet wide, but an arched bridge is nowhere to be seen. Roads there are none; and the only carriages are those owned by the king, which are brought out only on some great occasions, and are never seen beyond the walls of the city; of course, there is scarcely any use for horses or elephants. The Menam with its thousands of boats, and the numerous canals and branches of the river, make the communication every where cheap and easy, and compensate in a great measure, for the want of roads.
The principal amusement of the inhabitants, within their houses, is singing and playing on musical instruments, of various kinds: their singing is of a plaintive and melancholy cast, and they display considerable taste in its execution: but there is too much monotony, too much sameness in it; still they have got beyond the point of being pleased with mere sound, like the Chinese. Their musical instruments are very numerous: I have been able to describe but few; the music produced by them is very different from the vocal, being cheerful and lively. Playing chess is also a pastime. Dancing girls are kept for the amusement of the women of the higher classes. Tumblers, rope-dancers and actors, are considered necessary appendages for a complete establishment. Gambling is carried to great excess by the Siamese and Chinese; and the revenue derived from it, as will be seen in a statement of the revenue, is of considerable importance to the government. Flying kites is a favourite amusement with all, especially with the Talapoys, and a great number of them may be seen employed, in this way, at all hours of the day. Playing shuttlecock with their feet, three on a side, is much practised by them, as well as the laity; and in their houses, and even within their temples, they spend a large portion of their time at chess. These amusements, together with chewing areca, smoking cigars, begging, and sleeping, leave but little time for devotion and study.
DANCING SNAKES.
A few days since, a Siamese came into the yard, and desired to exhibit some dancing snakes; he uncovered a basket, and drew out with his naked hand several of a large size, and of the most venomous kind known in India, the cobra de capello—they were full six feet in length, and large in proportion; he had eight in the basket, and took out three or four at a time, and suffered them to run about: he would then touch one slightly on the body, as he was retreating, which caused him instantly to turn his head backward toward the tail. The head, from being round and small in proportion to the body, was quickly expanded to the width of full three, and probably five inches in length, showing a crown or circle in the centre; the head was nearly flat, his forked tongue was thrust out with great rapidity, and he kept vibrating from side to side, and his keen fiery eye shot forth most terrific glances; but he made a most noble and graceful, although frightful appearance.
The exhibitor kept a cloth moving, a short distance in front of his eyes, and the snake, in endeavouring to elude it, so that he might spring upon his adversary, kept in a dancing motion. Having tied two or three of the largest round his neck, and put the head of one of them in his mouth, the exhibition ended. Beingsatisfied that the fangs were extracted, or otherwise they could not be handled with impunity, I suffered two of them to run between my feet, but they did not offer to molest me or any one else.
The water used for domestic purposes is taken, with all its impurities, from the river, in water-tight buckets, neatly and strongly woven; it is put into unglazed earthen jars of thirty or forty gallons, and is suffered to settle in the best way it can, without any foreign aid. The filth of half a million of people, which is all emptied into the river, renders it most impure, and dead bodies are frequently thrown in to save the expense of burning. In a family, where no garments are mended—in which there is no baking or ironing of clothes; no stocking nor shoes worn, and the washing and drying of their simple garments, done at the river, does not occupy a month in a year—no books read, and no writing done—a large portion of the time of the females must, of course, be spent in sleep and idleness. This is the life led by the Siamese women of a good condition, they having in fact no occupation—this must be the true “dolce farniente” of the Italians, and a sorry one it is.
They wear no jewels, these being used altogether by the children, their dress consisting only of a waist and breast cloth of dark silk. A little music, the dancing girls, actors, and tumblers, occasionally exhibited, chess, colouring their skin yellow with turmeric, and anointing the tuft of unshorn hair on the top of their head; scandal, with frequent dissensions, the natural consequence of a plurality of wives; no riding out, seldom paying visits, and rarely diverting themselves with shopping, the almost unvaried repetition, from day to day, of the same dull round of occupations and amusements, cause their lives to drag on wearily, heavily, and listlessly. Long nails being considered a sort of patent of nobility by the Siamese, as well as the Chinese and Cochin-Chinese, draw a certain line of distinction between the vulgar, who are obliged to wear short ones and work for their living, and the higher orders. Those of the latter are carefully preserved from being broken, but not quite so much pains being taken to keep them clean, they are generally disgusting in their appearance—some of them are full two inches in length, and are put into cases of bamboo or metal on retiring to rest. The female actresses wear silver-pointed cases to them, which curve backward with a high sweep, nearly touching the wrist.
The higher orders of nobility, in fact, all who are allowed to crawl as far as the lowest place within the palace, and all the officers of state, must pay a morning and an evening visit to the “Lord of the White Elephant,” to his “golden-footed majesty,” “the master of all men’s lives.” Not to attend regularly, is considered a mark of disrespect and disaffection to the king: sickness, or some great calamity, only, is good cause for excuse.
Regularly, at half past eight in the morning, the praklang passed the mission house, having about a dozen paddles to his long canoe, sitting cross-legged or sidewise under the palm-leaf awning, or reclining on a carpet and cushions, a slave crouching on all fours in front of him, administering to his comforts in lighting a cigar, or helping him to areca. His palanquin (or rather a lacquered hand-barrow) protected from the rays of the sun by a large umbrella, was carried in the same boat, so as to be in readiness, on landing, to carry his unwieldy person to the palace. About noon, he returned. Between six and seven, he again regularly passed, and returned again usually about midnight. The paddlers on the numerous boats crouched low when he passed, as they all do when passing by the king’s bathing-house on the river: he never notices, in the slightest degree, their obeisance, but wo to them if they omit it. The bath-house is of great length, painted red, and decorated in front with numerous dwarf-trees and shrubs, and is used, it is said, daily, by his hundreds of (some say, eight hundred) wives and many scores of children, with their countless attendants.
ANNUAL OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
Annually, every public officer renews his oath of allegiance to his majesty, in the most horrid and revolting terms, calling down upon himself every curse and punishment in the present and future world, should he prove disloyal. At the commencement of the Chinese year, every governor, or other important officer, even of the most distant province, is obliged, on pain of death, to present himself at the krong, or capital, for this purpose.
A few days after our arrival, the venerable bishop of the Roman Catholic church sent a deputation to wait upon me, consisting of a young French priest, who has been in the country about two years, and a native Portuguese priest. The bishop sent an excuse for not paying a visit in person, owing to his advanced age and great infirmities, and requested me to call upon him, which I accordingly did in a few days thereafter, in company with Mr. Silveira and Doctor Ticknor. He made but few inquiries respecting his own country, which he had apparently almost forgotten. He said he was born at Avignon, in 1760, left France in the year 1786, and, with the exception of the time occupied by a tedious passage, three months passed at Macao, and six months at Hué, the capital of Cochin-China, he had been ever since in Siam. He was very infirm, and in his second childhood: sans teeth, sight dim, sans every thing. The house he lived in was very old and far from being clean. The church was built of brick and stuccoed, having a very gaudy and ordinary altar-piece, and destitute of images. It has been finished but a few years, and is called Santa Assomption.
A college, erected within a few years since the church, and neatly built of wood, stands near it, having about twenty students. It is erected on high posts, and is one story high. This Christian campong stands in the midst of palm and forest trees; and the situation is altogether very rural and pleasant. It will bear no comparison with its neighbours, the rich and gorgeous temples of Budha. The Catholic churches in this country, since the first bishop arrived, in 1662, have scarcely made any progress: the descendants of the Portuguese constitute, I may say with propriety, all the Christians in the kingdom; so say the Catholics themselves. All that can now be found here, and in the vicinity, do not exceed, according to the most zealous of that sect, thirteen hundred; but, according to a Protestant Christian missionary, who resided here nearly three years, and numbered them with considerable accuracy, they do not exceed four hundred. There are four churches in this vicinity; three of them are merely long sheds, in a wretched condition. In the campong of Santa Cruz, the walls of a brick one are erected, near to the old shed of that name; but the building will never be finished, for there are, already, evident signs of dilapidation in many parts of it.
Of the splendid churches that once adorned the old capital of Jutaya, there is but a small one now remaining, built out of the ruins of the others; and in Camboja, where the Catholics once had a strong foothold, they have dwindled to a mere name. The descendants of the Portuguese, in whose veins courses the blood of the courageous adventurers with the bold and fearless Vasco de Gama, who had the temerity first to double the cape of Good Hope, and the cruel Albuquerque, are now crouching slaves beforethe nobles of the country; and are employed only in menial offices, with the exception of two, which give them a bare subsistence.
BUDHIST TEMPLES.
The number of temples erected in the city and vicinity, I was unable to ascertain: that they amount to several hundreds, (some report from four to five hundred,) there cannot be a doubt. They occupy the most conspicuous and beautiful spots on the bank of the Menam, on its tributaries and numerous canals: you never lose sight of them; frequently eight or ten are in view at the same moment. In the most sequestered rural spots, they are always to be found; and wherever a brick pathway leads into the depths of the forest, it is a sure indication that there is a temple to be found. They are erected by pious individuals generally, believing that it will be the means of their souls being transmigrated into a higher and holier state of existence, than would otherwise enjoy; they but most of them are built from ostentatious motives.
They are of brick, and plastered; are one story in height, having neither arch nor dome; of a square form, and the roof is covered with neat coloured tiles, which gives them a gay appearance. At a first view, one is deceived, by supposing that there are three or four roofs to every building, as there are a series of them, which gradually diminish in size, to the main roof. The fronts, or gable ends, are laboriously and elegantly carved, with fanciful devices, and richly gilded. The eaves, doors, and window-frames, are, more or less, carved and gilt, painted and varnished. The doors and windows greatly resemble the pointed, or Gothic style of architecture. A figure of Budha, generally in a sitting posture, wearing the peaked crown, and having the soles of his holy feet turned upward, occupies nearly one entire end of the building, and is usually surrounded by votaries of a small size. He is partially covered with yellow cloths, having a high umbrella suspended over his head. Incense is occasionally burnt before him. The ceiling of the roof, which is flat, is painted with vermillion, ornamented with gilded stars. The entire sides, doors, and window-shutters, are covered with figures, fruit, and fancy work of various kinds—painted, varnished, and gilt. The floors of most of the buildings are of cement, having neither galleries, benches, nor seats of any kind, and scarcely a mat to kneel on. There are but few public temples. The front and rear of all have a portico. China plates, saucers, and common English crockery, stuck into plaster, intendedas ornaments, are seen on many of them; bits of coloured glass, also, make up part of the ornaments around the doors and windows. The images are either of brass or iron—brick plastered, and wood; but all richly gilt and burnished. Two temples, of a lesser size, stand on either side of the principal: they are generally not so highly ornamented. Small pyramidal pagodas, of six or seven feet in height, and open at the sides, surround these buildings, and contain two stones, or rather slabs, standing about six inches apart; they are of the exact shape of a bishop’s mitre. I repeatedly asked the use of them, or what they were intended to resemble; but all professed their ignorance of their origin. In them were generally found palm-leaves, containing characters, written in the sacred or Bali and Siamese languages, strung together in the centre, at a proper distance.
Small temples, or rather buildings, for various purposes, occupy the fronts and sides, among which, in a distinct building, is the belfry, which is ascended by a flight of steps, containing generally five or six bells, having no tongues, but being sounded by means of a heavy stick, or piece of metal.
Early in the morning, “when dying clouds contend with growing light;” when the fox-bat is returning from his nightly wanderings, to suspend himself on the holy fig trees, which lie scattered about the temples of Budha, and like the midnight marauder, shrinks from the sacred light of day; the tokay has ceased to send forth his harsh, loud, and monotonous cry; the prowling tiger has retired to his lair; the tuneful birds have chanted forth their first matins, or the labourer has returned to his daily task; when every thing is hushed in the solemnity of night, in the stillness of a temporary death, you are suddenly aroused by the din of the pagan bells, sounding far and wide through the depths of the surrounding palm-forests, summoning the worshippers of Gautama to early prayers. In the confusion of the moment, between slumbering and waking, you are transported, in imagination, to far distant lands, where the Sabbath bell calls forth its votaries. But how great the contrast! One summons to the worship of an imaginary god; the other to the worship of the everlasting and true God, the Lord of all things—of light and life.
Pra-chadis, or thin tall spires, from twenty to sixty feet in height, are in great numbers; and there is one at the krong or capital,which towers to the height, probably, of a hundred and fifty feet. The houses of the Talapoys are contiguous to the temples, and are generally shaded by fruit and forest trees. Small temples, having a high roof, and four wide avenues leading to the centre, for the burning of the richer sort, and a raised platform in the open air, for those who can only pay small fees, are placed at the most convenient spot near the water. A long bath, or small pond, containing young alligators, seems to be a necessary appendage to all temples. The grounds about the front of many of the richer temples, are neatly and prettily laid out with avenues, clumps of trees, shrubbery, &c. The priests derive a considerable revenue by making small images, either of the unconsumed bones of certain deceased persons, or else of common clay, gilt; and also by writing on palm-trees, certain moral or religious sentences, in the sacred language. The Indian lotus, with its broad leaf, is nowhere neglected, but is found about every temple, growing from large porcelain or stone vases, neatly, and sometimes elaborately wrought. Every Siamese temple is not only a place for worship, but it is likewise a monastery: females are in them, old and worn out, and their characters are far from being respected. They only do menial offices, dress in white, and have nothing to do with the worship in the temples. As rice, their chief support, is abundant, it is but just that the Talapoys should support them in their old age.
The spot on which the present capital stands, and the country in its vicinity, on both banks of the river for a considerable distance, were formerly, before the removal of the court to its present situation, called Bang-kok; but since that time, and for nearly sixty years past, it has been named Sia yuthia, (pronounced See-ah you-tè-ah, and by the natives, Krung, that is, the capital;) it is called by both names here, but never Bang-kok; and they always correct foreigners when the latter make this mistake. The villages which occupy the right hand of the river, opposite to the capital, pass under the general name of Bang-kok.