Kitabı oku: «The Mission to Siam, and Hué the Capital of Cochin China, in the Years 1821-2», sayfa 11

The food of the Siamese consists chiefly of rice, which is eaten with a substance called Balachang, a strange compound of things savoury and loathsome; but in such general use, that no one thinks of eating without some portion of it. Religion offers but a feeble barrier against the desire to eat animal food, and the Siamese easily satisfy their conscience on this score. They conceive that they have obeyed the injunction of the law, when they themselves have not killed the animals. They do not hesitate to purchase fish, fowls, &c., alive in the market, desiring the seller to slay them before he delivers them over, well contented that the crime must remain attached to the latter. Their devotion, at times, goes the length of inducing them to purchase numbers of living fish for the purpose of turning them loose again, and the king has often in this manner given liberty to all the fish caught on a particular day. Yet the privilege of fishing is sold by the king to the highest bidder, and from this source he derives a very considerable annual revenue. The Siamese, however, are more choice in their food, and less indulgent of their appetites than the Chinese.

The town derives but little architectural ornament from the state of its public buildings, if we except the sacred edifice called Pra-cha-di. The palaces are buildings of inconsiderable size individually, in the Chinese style, covered with a diminishing series of three or four tiled roofs, sometimes terminated by a small spire, and more remarkable for singularity than for beauty. The palace of the king is covered with tin tiles.

Many of the temples cover a large extent of ground; they are placed in the most elevated and best situations, surrounded by brick walls or bamboo hedges, and the enclosure contains numerous rows of buildings, disposed in straight lines. They consist of one spacious, and in general lofty hall, with narrow but numerous doors and windows. Both the exterior and interior are studded over with a profusion of minute and singular ornaments of the most varied description. It is on the ends, and not on the sides of the exterior of the building, that the greatest care has been bestowed in the disposition of the ornaments. A profusion of gilding, bits of looking glass, China basins of various colours, stuck into the plaster, are amongst the most common materials. The floor of the temple is elevated several feet above the ground, and generally boarded or paved, and covered with coarse mats.

The fabulous stories of Hindu theology figure in all the absurdity that gave them birth, upon the interior walls. The wildest imagination would seem to have guided the artist’s hand; yet here and there he has portrayed, by accident, perhaps, more than by design, human passions with a degree of spirit and of truth worthy of better subjects. Notwithstanding the great demand there is for painting in this way, the circumstance is singular and remarkable, that this divine art should not only continue in its infancy among them, but that their performances should not even indicate a capacity of attaining to greater flights. If, as some believe, Asia has given birth to the arts, the experience of ages has proved that she is quite incapable of carrying them to perfection.

Here, for the first time, did I observe obscene paintings in a temple dedicated to Buddha. In Ceylon they would have been deemed altogether profane. We were amused to find suspended in a very handsome temple, two coarse paintings of French ladies, in rural costume.

At one end of the temple a sort of altar is raised, on which is placed the principal figure of Buddha, surrounded by innumerable lesser ones, and by those of priests; and here and there is disposed the figure of a deceased king, distinguished by his tall conical cap, peculiar physiognomy, and rich costume. The figures of Buddha have a cast of the Tartar countenance, particularly the eye of that race. They are very commonly disfigured by having tattered umbrellas of cloth or paper suspended over the head, or tied to it, and by having rags of dirty cloth wrapped round them, it being reckoned devout to deck the statues in this way; though as the images are all gilt, and in general well cast, this gives them a very sorry appearance. It will scarcely be credited how numerous the images of Buddha are in the temples. They are disposed with unsparing profusion on the altar, of all sizes, from one inch to thirty feet in height. In the outer courts of the temple they are disposed in still greater number. The arrangement observed in the temple called Wāāt-thay-cham-ponn, may be given as an instance of what occurs in the rest.

This consists of a number of temples, Pra-cha-dis¹⁰, and buildings allotted for the accommodation of priests, enclosed in an ample square, rather more than a quarter of a mile on each side. The principal temples are further surrounded by a piazza open only towards the temple, and about twelve or fifteen feet in breadth, and well paved. Against the back wall, a stout platform of masonry extends round the temple, on which are placed gilded figures of Buddha, for the most part considerably larger than the human size, and so close to each other as to leave no vacant place on the platform. Of these statues the greater number are made of cast iron, others are made of brass, others of wood or of clay, and all with careful uniformity. Several hundreds of such images are thus seen at one glance of the eye. In other and less spacious passages, minor figures, chiefly of clay or wood, are heaped together in endless numbers. They would appear to accumulate so fast, that it seems probable the priests are at times reduced to the necessity of demolishing hosts of them.

From what has been said, it will be seen that images are here manufactured in vast numbers. The expense in gilding alone, for every image is gilt, must be great. Some are of enormous size; in this temple there is one about thirty feet high. The attendants attempted to persuade us that it was made of copper, but the application of the knife proved it to be of hard wood in different pieces. This statue is erect, and stands alone in a building apparently erected as a covering for it. The more common posture in which Buddha is represented is that of sitting cross-legged, in a contemplative attitude, the soles of the feet turned up. In other instances he is reclining on a pillow, the attitude also contemplative. These three are the only postures in which the natives of Ceylon represent him. Here he is to be seen asleep, and, as I have been told, there are even some figures that represent him as dead.

The minor arrangements of the temples are hardly deserving of notice. The apartments allotted for the accommodation of the priests are clean, neat, substantial, and comfortable, without ornament or superfluity.

The Pra-cha-di of the temple called Wāāt-thay-cham-ponn, is the handsomest of the kind in Bankok, and indeed deserving of notice on account of its architectural beauty.

The Pra-cha-di, called, by the Bauddhists of Ceylon, Dagoba, is a solid building of masonry, without aperture or inlet of any sort, however large it may be. It is generally built in the neighbourhood of some temple, but is not itself an object or a place of worship, being always distinct from the temple itself¹¹. In its origin, it would appear to have been sepulchral, and destined to commemorate either the death of Buddha, or his translation into heaven. Even at the present time, these ornamental buildings are thought to contain some relic of Buddha. This one in particular makes a light and handsome appearance: the lower part consists of a series of dodecahedral terraces, diminishing gradually to nearly one half of the whole height, where they are succeeded by a handsome spire, fluted longitudinally, and ornamented with numerous circular mouldings. The minor ornaments are numerous, and towards the summit there is a small globe of glass. The total height would appear to be about two hundred and fifty feet from the ground.

Minor edifices of this sort are common in every temple. They are in general raised upon a base of twelve sides, but sometimes of eighteen.

We have no accurate data to enable us to estimate the population of Bankok. It has been stated that the Chinese constitute at least one-half of the whole. The remainder is composed of Siamese, native christians of this place and of Cambodia, Barmans, Peguers, and natives of the Malay islands and of Laos¹². These occupy distinct portions of the town, and associate only with each other.

CHAPTER VI

Physical form and character of the Siamese. – Manners and Customs. – Treatment of the dead, and funereal obsequies of the Monarch. – Laws. – Adultery. – Theft. – History. – State of defence. – Revenue. – Siamese numerals. – Kalendar. – Annual festival at the close of the year. – Religion. – Laws of Buddha. – Province of Chantibond the richest portion of the territory of Siam. – Its products. – Mines of gold and of precious stones. – Zoological remarks.

I have already, on more than one occasion, briefly alluded to the physical form of the Siamese. At present I shall make such observations as more extensive experience has enabled me to collect.

That the Siamese are one of the numerous tribes which constitute that great and singular family of the human race, known generally by the appellation of Mongols, will appear to most persons sufficiently obvious. If they do not possess, in the most acute degree, the peculiar features of the original, they are at least stamped with traits sufficiently just to entitle them to be considered as copies. There is, however, one general and well-marked form, common to all the tribes lying between China and Hindostan. Under this head are comprehended the inhabitants of Ava, Pegu, Siam, Cambodia, and even of Cochin-China, though those of the latter country more resemble the Chinese than the others. This distinctive character is so strongly blended with the Mongol features that we have no hesitation in considering these nations as deriving their origin from that source. It appears to me that to this source also we ought to refer the Malays¹³, who cannot be said to possess national characters, at least of physiognomy and physical form, sufficiently distinct and obvious to entitle them to be considered as a distinct race. Where there is a difference between the Malays and the tribes mentioned, it is more to be referred to the condition of the mental faculty, than to that of bodily form; to the state of manners, habits of life, language; in short to circumstances altogether, or in great part, produced by mind. In other respects they would appear to differ but little from the tribes mentioned above. Traces of a much ruder people are to be met with in the mountainous districts of these kingdoms, particularly in the peninsula of Malacca. Our knowledge of these is much too scanty to enable us to trace their filiation. Though generally asserted, there are no records to prove that they are the aboriginal inhabitants of the country, at least of any other part of it than the wilds and impenetrable forests which they continue to occupy. The woolly-headed race, and another resembling the Indian, are not uncommon¹⁴. Their origin will probably ever remain uncertain.

The following observations will be found to apply to the several nations already mentioned, and in general to the Chinese also, whom I consider as the prototype of the whole race. A multitude of forms are to be seen in every nation, not referable to any particular family or variety of the human race. For our present purpose, we must select such only as possess the peculiar form in the most characteristic degree. But as all the requisites of this form are not always developed in a very acute degree in all, we must collect from a multitude of instances, what appears to be the predominating tendency. In this way we may make out a portrait of the whole.

The stature of the body would appear to be much alike in all the tribes of the Mongol race, the Chinese being perhaps a little taller, and the Malays lower than the others. In all it is below that of the Caucasian race. The average height of the Siamese, ascertained by actual measurement of a considerable number of individuals, amounts to five feet three inches.

The skin is of a lighter colour than in the generality of Asiatics to the west of the Ganges; by far the greater number being of a yellow complexion, a colour which, in the higher ranks, and particularly amongst women and children, they take pleasure in heightening by the use of a bright yellow wash or cosmetic, so that their bodies are often rendered of a golden colour. The texture of the skin is remarkably smooth, soft, and shining.

Throughout the whole race there is a strong tendency towards obesity. The nutritious fluids of the body are principally directed towards the surface distending and overloading the cellular tissue with an inordinate quantity of fat. The muscular textures are in general soft, lax, and flabby, rarely exhibiting that strength or developement of outline which marks the finer forms of the human body. In labourers and mechanics, particularly the Chinese, the muscular parts occasionally attain considerable volume, but very rarely the hardness and elasticity developed by exercise in the European race. On a simple inspection, we are apt to form exaggerated notions respecting their muscular strength, and capacity for labour. A more close examination discovers the reality, and we find that something more than volume is necessary to constitute vigour of arm.

In point of size, the limbs are often equal to, if not larger than those of Europeans, particularly the thighs, but this magnitude of volume will be found to depend upon the cause alluded to above. The same circumstance gives to the whole body a disproportionate bulk; and hence they form what is called a squat race.

The face is remarkably broad and flat, the cheek-bones prominent, large, spreading, and gently rounded. The glabellum is flat and unusually large. The eyes are in general small. The aperture of the eye-lids, moderately linear in the Indo-Chinese nations and Malays, is acutely so in the Chinese, bending upward at its exterior termination. The lower jaw is long, and remarkably full under the zygoma, so as to give to the countenance a square appearance. The nose is rather small than flat, the alæ not being distended in any uncommon degree; in a great number of Malays, however, it is largest towards the point. The mouth is large, and the lips thick. The beard is remarkably scanty, consisting only of a few straggling hairs. The forehead, though broad in the lateral direction, is in general narrow, the hairy scalp descending very low. The head is peculiar. The diameter from the front backwards is uncommonly short; and hence the general form is somewhat cylindrical. The occipital foramen in a great number of instances is placed so far back, that from the crown to the nape of the neck is nearly a straight line. The top of the head is often unusually flat. The hair is thick, coarse, and lank, in some shewing a disposition to curl on the forehead, but this is more peculiar to the Malays. The colour is always black.

The limbs are thick, short and stout, and the arms rather disproportionate in length to the body.

The arms, particularly in Malays, are uncommonly long. The foot is, in general small, but the hand is much larger than in the natives of Bengal.

The trunk is rather square, being nearly as broad at the loins as over the pectoral muscles. There is in this respect the greatest difference between them and the inhabitants of either India, who are in general remarkable for small waists. The diameter of the pelvis is particularly large, and the dimensions of the cavity would appear to be somewhat greater than in the other races.

From this account of their form, they would appear to be admirably calculated to execute and to undergo the more toilsome and laborious, but mechanical, operations which are the usual lot of the labouring classes of mankind. They have the frame, without the energy of London porters. The greater number of them are indeed more distinguished for mechanical skill, and patience under laborious occupations, than for brightness of imagination or mental capacity. Others of them are equally remarkable for indolence and aversion to labour.

MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE SIAMESE

TREATMENT OF THE DEAD

The treatment of the dead is not amongst the least singular of the customs peculiar to the Siamese. It is more or less expensive according to the rank which the individual held in the community, or the ability of his relations. The poorest amongst them are negligently and without ceremony thrown into the river. Those a little higher in the scale of society are burnt; often very imperfectly, and their partially-consumed bones are left to bleach on the plain, or to be devoured by ravenous beasts. Children, before the age of dentition, are interred in a superficial grave, to one end of which an upright board is attached. Women who have died pregnant are interred in a similar manner. After the lapse of a few months, however, their remains are taken up for the purpose of being burnt.

With the exceptions mentioned, the practice of burning the dead extends to all ranks. The ceremony may be witnessed almost daily in the environs, and within the precincts of the temples. The latter are generally provided with a lofty shed, of a pyramidal form, open on all sides, and supported on tall wooden posts, of sufficient height to admit of the combustion of the body without injury to the roof. Nor is even this simple shed common to all. The avarice of the priesthood, taking advantage of the weaker feelings of the human mind, has even here established distinctions at which death mocks. The poorer sort, therefore, raise the pile at a humble distance from the roof of pride.

A singular custom takes place in many instances previous to the ceremony of combustion. It is that of cutting the muscular and soft parts of the body into innumerable small pieces, until nothing is left of the corpse but the bare bones. The flesh thus cut up is thrown to dogs, vultures, and other carnivorous birds, which on this account resort to such places in great numbers. We found one of those pyramids covered with vultures, and the enclosure much frequented by dogs. The scene was loathsome and disgusting in the extreme, and sufficiently attested the prevalence of this custom. The practice is looked upon as charitable and laudable, and the Siamese arrogate to themselves no small share of merit in thus disposing of the body as food, the material of life, to the beasts of the field, and to the birds of the air. It seems probable that this singular practice is connected with their notions of a future existence, and may have derived its origin in some way from the ancient doctrine of Metempsychosis, so strongly inculcated by their religion¹⁵.

A different custom prevails among the higher orders of Siamese, which, considering that the body is finally destined to be consumed by fire, is as unaccountable as the other is barbarous and unfeeling. The custom I allude to is that of embalming the dead. But what seems most singular in this custom is, that the body has no sooner undergone that degree of preparation which renders it capable of being preserved for a longer period, than it is destined to be totally consumed. Were it not for this apparent inconsistency, we should have little hesitation in attributing the origin of this practice to that warmth of filial affection, and the well known devotion to their ancestors, for which the Chinese are so remarkable.

The art of embalming, as known to the Siamese, is extremely imperfect, notwithstanding that it has been practised from very ancient times. Its actual state is characteristic of that general ignorance of the ornamental, as well as of the useful arts of civilized life, which I have already hinted at on several occasions.

The process is for the most part left to the relations of the deceased, who call in the assistance of the more experienced.

After washing the body with water, the first step is to pour a large quantity of crude mercury into the mouth. Persons of the highest rank alone, however, can have recourse to a material so expensive. The others substitute honey in its stead, but it is said with a less favourable result. The body is now placed in a kneeling posture, and the hands are brought together before the face, in the attitude of devotion. Narrow strips of cloth are then bound tightly round the extremities, and the body is compressed in a similar manner. The object of the ligatures is to squeeze the moisture out of the body. They act also in preserving the required posture, and with this object the more flexile tendons of the extremities are divided. In this posture the body is next placed in an air-tight vessel of wood, brass, silver, or gold, according to the rank of the deceased. A tube, or hollow bamboo, inserted into the mouth of the deceased, passes through the upper part of the box, and is conducted through the roof of the house to a considerable height. A similar bamboo is placed in the bottom, and terminates in a vessel placed under it to receive the draining off from the body. If the deceased is of the rank of a prince, the sordes thus collected is conveyed with great formality and state, in a royal barge, highly ornamented, to be deposited at a particular part of the river below the city. That collected from the body of the king is put into a vessel, and boiled until an oil separates, which oil is carefully collected, and with this they, on certain occasions, (as when his descendants and those of his family go to pay their devotions to his departed spirit), anoint the singular image called Sema, usually placed in the temple after his death.

Notwithstanding the precaution of using the tubes and the tight box, the odour, it is said, is often most offensive. In a few weeks, however, it begins to diminish, and the body becomes shriveled and quite dry.

The body thus prepared by this rude process is, at the proper period, brought forth to be burnt, the relations having in the mean time made every necessary arrangement for the solemn occasion. Early in the morning a number of priests are assembled at the house of the deceased; having received robes of yellow cloth, and been feasted, they repeat prayers in the Pali language, after which the body is carried forth to be burned. The priests receive the body as it approaches the temple, and conducting it towards the pile, repeat a verse in the Pali language, which has been thus interpreted to me:

 
Eheu! mortale corpus,
Ut fumus hic nunc ascendit, sic et
Animus tuus ascendat in cœlum¹⁶.
 

After the body has been destroyed, the ashes, or rather the small fragments of bone which remain, are carefully collected, and the use that is made of them is somewhat singular. The priests are again called in; prayers are again repeated in the Pali language, and various requisite ceremonies are performed, after which the ashes which had been collected after combustion, are reduced to a paste with water, and formed into a small figure of Buddha, which being gilded, and finished by the priests, is either placed in the temple, or preserved by the friends of the deceased.

This last ceremony is attended with considerable expense, and, therefore, the poorer orders, when unable to engage priests for its performance, keep the ashes of their relations by them, until they are in a condition to have it carried into effect in a becoming manner.

It must be confessed, that in matters of this sort, the Siamese shew the greatest regard to the memory of their relations and ancestors. Where death and its dread apparatus are thus brought daily home to the feelings, – where the mind is accustomed to view the disgusting and humiliating phenomena that attend the last scene of mortality, it might be thought that a stupid insensibility, if not scornful indifference, would be the general result. We have no reason to believe that such is the case with the Siamese. The care and attention they have bestowed upon the remains of their relations, seem but to endear their memory the more to them. The fear of death is, besides, of that nature, that neither the most deliberate reason, nor the most obtuse feeling, can lay it altogether aside. On the minds of the multitude more especially, this fear operates strongly, and produces effects in proportion to their degree of intelligence. Where there is already a strong tendency towards superstition, this bias is still more heightened, and there are perhaps few nations more strongly imbued with this sentiment than the Siamese; and, in general, all the tribes of Mongol origin. With them judicial astrology still holds the rank of the most important of sciences, and is cultivated with the most scrupulous attention. Its pretended results are required on all important occasions, either of a public or a private nature. Nor are the most gross and revolting superstitions confined to the vulgar, as the following anecdote respecting the present Pra-klang, Suree-wong Montree, will shew.

This gentleman hearing of the wonderful effects said to be produced by mercury, became extremely desirous to make proof of the popular belief, that this metal when reduced to a solid state, confers on its fortunate possessor the most extraordinary power, and amongst others that of travelling into the most distant regions of the globe, without other effort than that of the will to do so. The prospect of seeing neighbouring kingdoms in all their nakedness was irresistible, and the terms were so easy, and attended with so little labour, as to be quite inviting even to the phlegmatic imagination of the Pra-klang, whose fat, ponderous, and unwieldy corporation was more than enough to have excited doubts of success. A quantity of the metal was procured. The most expert magicians, alchymists, and astrologers were assembled on the occasion, but their united skill failed to produce the much desired effect. They boiled, and they roasted, and they tortured in every possible way the stubborn slippery metal, but all to no purpose. The poor Pra-klang, ashamed and disappointed, instead of flying through the air, saw himself reduced to the sad necessity of carrying his unwieldy bulk about the streets of Siam for the rest of his life.

Further proofs of the superstitious nature of this people were easily furnished. The belief in the agency of evil spirits is universal, and though disclaimed by the religion of Buddha, they are more frequently worshipped than the latter. Nor will the darker periods of German necromancy and pretended divination be found to exceed, in point of the incredible and the horrible, what is to be observed amongst the Siamese of the present day.

It is usual to inter women that have died pregnant; the popular belief is that the necromancers have the power of performing the most extraordinary things when possessed of the infant which had been thus interred in the womb of the mother: it is customary to watch the grave of such persons, in order to prevent the infant from being carried off. The Siamese tell the tale of horror in the most solemn manner. All the hobgoblins, wild and ferocious animals, all the infernal spirits are said to oppose the unhallowed deed; the perpetrator, well charged with cabalistic terms, which he must recite in a certain fixed order, and with nerves well braced to the daring task, proceeds to the grave, which he lays open. In proportion as he advances in his work the opposing sprites become more daring; he cuts off the head, hands, and feet of the infant, with which he returns home. A body of clay is adapted to these, and this new compound is placed in a sort of temple; the matter is now accomplished, the possessor has become master of the past, present, and future.

The funeral ceremonies observed on the death of a king are somewhat different from those mentioned above, but the principle is the same. All the people go into mourning. All ranks and both sexes shave the head, and this ceremony is repeated a third time. An immense concourse is assembled to witness the combustion of the body. The ceremony is said to constitute the most imposing spectacle which the country at any time can boast.

Within the first enclosure a line of priests are seated, reciting prayers from the sacred books, in a loud voice. Behind them the new king has taken his station. In the succeeding enclosures the princes of the royal family and other persons of distinction have taken their places. It will be seen by the manner in which the funeral-pile is lighted, how much attention has been bestowed upon the arrangement even of the most trivial matters. A train is laid from the pile to the place where the king stands, others to those occupied by the princes of the family, with this distinction in their distribution, that the train laid to the king’s station is the only one that directly reaches the pile. That of the next person in rank joins this at a little distance, and so of the others, in the order of rank. These trains are fired all at the same moment.

The outer circle of all is allotted to the performance of plays, gymnastic exercises, and feats of dexterity, and sleight of hand. The plays are divided into Siamese, Barman, Pegu, Laos, and Chinese; and they are so called more from the performers being of these several countries, than from any essential difference in the drama.

The external forms of reverence for the deceased king are impressive and unbounded; and the image formed from his ashes, being placed upon the altar, claims scarce less devotion than that of Buddha himself. That during life, while he yet grasped the sceptre, and made his subjects tremble, he should impiously assume the attributes of divinity, and claim from the unwilling mind the adoration due only to the Deity, seems even less strange, and less revolting, than this shameful, because voluntary prostitution of human intellect.