CHAPTERXV.CHOLERA-TIMES IN BANGKOK.Thoseindeed were dreadful days in the summer of 1849, when, after being free from it thirty years, cholera again broke out in Siam; when in less than a fortnight more than twenty thousand people perished in the one city of Bangkok; when, go where you would in the streets, you would meet men carrying their dead slung from a bamboo borne on the shoulders of two of them; when hundreds of corpses were thrown into the river and heaps on heaps were piled up like logs and burned to get them out of the way.I need not say that the Siamese were very much frightened when this dreadful disease broke out among them. They saw their friends and neighbors sicken in an hour and dying on their right hand and left in almost every house, and each one feared it might be his turn next. But where did they look for help? Did the king proclaim a fast-day, think you? and the people repent of their many sins and pray to God to have mercy on them? Alas! God was not in the thoughts of this people at all. Their religion teaches them there is no God—no Creator who made the world: the world made itself, they say; it always was. The god they do worship, Buddha, whose images are in every temple, was nothing but a mere man like themselves, and, now he has left the world, knows nothing, cares nothing, about it, or indeed about aught else.The common notion about the pestilence was that an army of wicked spirits had come invisibly to carry off mankind to make them their servants in the unseen world. Oh, how anxious they were to make these spirits of the air their friends! So the people made various offerings in order to conciliate the good-will of these spirits of the air.It was a common practice in those days to form a little square tray from pieces of the plantain tree, and, placing the offerings thereupon, leave them by the side of the street, where the spirits would find them, or else, placing them on the water, let them float down the stream. The river and land were full of them.Coming home one night, I stumbled over one right in my path, and, having a lantern, stopped to examine it. On the rude tray, which was about a foot square, were strewed rice, some coarse salt tied up in a little rag, some fresh flowers, betel-nut, sliced plantain, the end of a torch, and two rough images of clay representing a man and woman, each with a dirty shred of cloth about it. The object in making images was that the spirits might accept them for their servants instead of the persons who offered them. The invisible spirits never carried off any of these dainty gifts, but I have seen sensible-looking dogs helping themselves freely to the rice and whatever else was eatable.Some would take great pains to make perfect little models of a Chinese junk, painted gayly, and fit them out with little red and white banners, wax tapers, fruit and flowers. These boats contained as passengers clay images of men, women and children, and at dusk the tapers were lighted and the little vessels launched on the river as an offering to the spirits, to be borne away on the tide. Many charms were also used to keep off the evil spirits that bring disease. They consisted of strips of paper with various squares and marks upon them, sewed up in bits of red cloth or leather of a three-cornered shape.But by far the most common practice as a preventive of cholera was wearing a few strands of cotton yarn about the neck or wrist. Go where you would, in the market or along the river-side, nearly all women and children wore this white string. I have been in the houses of noblemen where one had just been taken sick, when all the women of the family were busy dividing a hank of cotton yarn into portions and tying them around the wrists or necks of themselves and their children with as much earnestness as though their lives depended on it. Often in trying to feel for the pulse of some poor dying creature have I pushed this cotton thread away to get at the wrist.Many houses were entirely encircled by a long cotton cord, with bits of written paper fastened to it here and there. The outer palace-walls, more than a mile in circumference, were thus girt around, the cord looped up from the battlements every few rods. But Death crossed the enchanted line, if the spirits did not, and hundreds of the king’s large household were swept away.The pestilence had not been prevailing long before the Chinese in the city, at their houses on land and at every floating house for miles along the river and canals, had a tall bamboo pole put up, with cords attached by which a little lantern could be raised to the top. After dark, when all these were lighted, they gave the river a beautiful appearance. This foolish waste of oil was kept up all night for weeks and months. Besides this, the Chinese tried to get the favor of their gods by the firing of crackers, boat-races and processions on land and water.There were other spirits, besides those that they supposed had caused the pestilence, that the Siamese treated with great respect during those days. Before or near almost every house, raised on a single pole about as high as one’s head, stood a little wooden house, having one small room opening on a little porch. In this porch and room you would always find a quantity of offerings—such curious ones, too, that you would be more sure than ever it was a doll’s play-house, yet the grown-up members of the family had built them to secure the good-will of the spirit guarding the spot occupied by their dwelling.A piece of board shaped something like the head of a spear, slips of cloth covered with written characters, little clay images of elephants, horses, men and women, rice, betel-nut, tobacco and flowers,—these would be offered, in addition to the wax tapers kept burning and food set out, if any of the family were sick.The worshiping of these spirits is a kind of superstition that appears to have been handed down by the forefathers of the Siamese from the ancient times before the Buddhist religion, which throws no light upon it, was introduced into their country. As the people believe that these spirits can protect them from sickness during cholera-time, the offering-houses are well supplied, and the little sprites (had there been any) would not have lacked tobacco, betel, food and clothing, or clay horses to ride.The temples of the idols and the priests were not forgotten in those days. The preaching-places were filled with hearers, presents were made in abundance to the priests and there was much bowing to idols. One great man was sure that he could not die of cholera because he had gained so much merit by paying the expenses of making a number of new priests—some three or four hundredticals; but he too was taken away by the fatal disease. Priests were in demand also to chant prayers over the dying, that they might be happy in the next life. I was much affected by seeing a poor mother trying to comfort her son, a young man stricken down by disease and fast sinking. She told him to think of the favor of his god, and then, putting his hands together with the palms touching, as he was too far gone to raise them himself, lifted them for him above his head, as is done in the worship of Buddha. And so this life went out, as thousands upon thousands have done since, in blind groping after its god, and this mother was left, as many, many mothers in that land have been left, without one ray of hope or light beyond the borderland which the spirit of her dear one had passed.
Thoseindeed were dreadful days in the summer of 1849, when, after being free from it thirty years, cholera again broke out in Siam; when in less than a fortnight more than twenty thousand people perished in the one city of Bangkok; when, go where you would in the streets, you would meet men carrying their dead slung from a bamboo borne on the shoulders of two of them; when hundreds of corpses were thrown into the river and heaps on heaps were piled up like logs and burned to get them out of the way.
I need not say that the Siamese were very much frightened when this dreadful disease broke out among them. They saw their friends and neighbors sicken in an hour and dying on their right hand and left in almost every house, and each one feared it might be his turn next. But where did they look for help? Did the king proclaim a fast-day, think you? and the people repent of their many sins and pray to God to have mercy on them? Alas! God was not in the thoughts of this people at all. Their religion teaches them there is no God—no Creator who made the world: the world made itself, they say; it always was. The god they do worship, Buddha, whose images are in every temple, was nothing but a mere man like themselves, and, now he has left the world, knows nothing, cares nothing, about it, or indeed about aught else.
The common notion about the pestilence was that an army of wicked spirits had come invisibly to carry off mankind to make them their servants in the unseen world. Oh, how anxious they were to make these spirits of the air their friends! So the people made various offerings in order to conciliate the good-will of these spirits of the air.
It was a common practice in those days to form a little square tray from pieces of the plantain tree, and, placing the offerings thereupon, leave them by the side of the street, where the spirits would find them, or else, placing them on the water, let them float down the stream. The river and land were full of them.
Coming home one night, I stumbled over one right in my path, and, having a lantern, stopped to examine it. On the rude tray, which was about a foot square, were strewed rice, some coarse salt tied up in a little rag, some fresh flowers, betel-nut, sliced plantain, the end of a torch, and two rough images of clay representing a man and woman, each with a dirty shred of cloth about it. The object in making images was that the spirits might accept them for their servants instead of the persons who offered them. The invisible spirits never carried off any of these dainty gifts, but I have seen sensible-looking dogs helping themselves freely to the rice and whatever else was eatable.
Some would take great pains to make perfect little models of a Chinese junk, painted gayly, and fit them out with little red and white banners, wax tapers, fruit and flowers. These boats contained as passengers clay images of men, women and children, and at dusk the tapers were lighted and the little vessels launched on the river as an offering to the spirits, to be borne away on the tide. Many charms were also used to keep off the evil spirits that bring disease. They consisted of strips of paper with various squares and marks upon them, sewed up in bits of red cloth or leather of a three-cornered shape.
But by far the most common practice as a preventive of cholera was wearing a few strands of cotton yarn about the neck or wrist. Go where you would, in the market or along the river-side, nearly all women and children wore this white string. I have been in the houses of noblemen where one had just been taken sick, when all the women of the family were busy dividing a hank of cotton yarn into portions and tying them around the wrists or necks of themselves and their children with as much earnestness as though their lives depended on it. Often in trying to feel for the pulse of some poor dying creature have I pushed this cotton thread away to get at the wrist.
Many houses were entirely encircled by a long cotton cord, with bits of written paper fastened to it here and there. The outer palace-walls, more than a mile in circumference, were thus girt around, the cord looped up from the battlements every few rods. But Death crossed the enchanted line, if the spirits did not, and hundreds of the king’s large household were swept away.
The pestilence had not been prevailing long before the Chinese in the city, at their houses on land and at every floating house for miles along the river and canals, had a tall bamboo pole put up, with cords attached by which a little lantern could be raised to the top. After dark, when all these were lighted, they gave the river a beautiful appearance. This foolish waste of oil was kept up all night for weeks and months. Besides this, the Chinese tried to get the favor of their gods by the firing of crackers, boat-races and processions on land and water.
There were other spirits, besides those that they supposed had caused the pestilence, that the Siamese treated with great respect during those days. Before or near almost every house, raised on a single pole about as high as one’s head, stood a little wooden house, having one small room opening on a little porch. In this porch and room you would always find a quantity of offerings—such curious ones, too, that you would be more sure than ever it was a doll’s play-house, yet the grown-up members of the family had built them to secure the good-will of the spirit guarding the spot occupied by their dwelling.
A piece of board shaped something like the head of a spear, slips of cloth covered with written characters, little clay images of elephants, horses, men and women, rice, betel-nut, tobacco and flowers,—these would be offered, in addition to the wax tapers kept burning and food set out, if any of the family were sick.
The worshiping of these spirits is a kind of superstition that appears to have been handed down by the forefathers of the Siamese from the ancient times before the Buddhist religion, which throws no light upon it, was introduced into their country. As the people believe that these spirits can protect them from sickness during cholera-time, the offering-houses are well supplied, and the little sprites (had there been any) would not have lacked tobacco, betel, food and clothing, or clay horses to ride.
The temples of the idols and the priests were not forgotten in those days. The preaching-places were filled with hearers, presents were made in abundance to the priests and there was much bowing to idols. One great man was sure that he could not die of cholera because he had gained so much merit by paying the expenses of making a number of new priests—some three or four hundredticals; but he too was taken away by the fatal disease. Priests were in demand also to chant prayers over the dying, that they might be happy in the next life. I was much affected by seeing a poor mother trying to comfort her son, a young man stricken down by disease and fast sinking. She told him to think of the favor of his god, and then, putting his hands together with the palms touching, as he was too far gone to raise them himself, lifted them for him above his head, as is done in the worship of Buddha. And so this life went out, as thousands upon thousands have done since, in blind groping after its god, and this mother was left, as many, many mothers in that land have been left, without one ray of hope or light beyond the borderland which the spirit of her dear one had passed.