Pagoda G. vihéar.
Pair Cû.
Palace Vang, Preă-montir.
Palm-tree Dóm tenot.
Peacock Canghoc.
Paper Credas.
Paradise Sthan suor, phimean.
Pardon (to) Ât tus.
Priest Sâng Kreach.
Porringer Chan.
Perceive (to) Khūuh.
Pray (to) Phéavĕanea, sot thor.
Prayer Ehór pheavinia.
Prison Erung.
Price Tomlay.
Profit Chomniuh.
Profound Chron.
Promise (to) Sãmŏt.
Prompt Ranăs.
Prostrate oneself (to) Crap.
Punish (to) Toctus.
Partake (to) Chec.
Pass (to) Huvs.
Poor Pibac.
Pay (to) Sâng.
Paint (to) Cuor.
Pelican Eung.
Pierce (to) Ehlu, thleay.
People Reas.
Perhaps Proman.
Pound (to) Bô̆c.
Pipe Khsier.
Prickly Hór, măt.
Place Dăc, tuò.
Pity (to) Anót, anot.
Please (to) Săp.
Pleasure Âmnâr sôc sabai.
Plank Cadar.
Plant (to) Dam.
Poison Ehnam pal.
Pepper Mŏreih.
Polished Reling.
Pork Chrue.
Pursue (to) Ehuli.
Pomegranate Tetum.
Pupil Crôm Sôs.
Pincers Eăngeap.
Power Amnach.
Preach (to) Eisna.
Prepare (to) Riép.
Plane (to) Chhus.
Perspiration Rhú̂s.
Perspire (to) Bêe nhús.
Perforated Thlu, dăch.
Preserve (to) Eue reaisa.
Pine-apple Monós.
Perceive (to) Klrúuh.
Print (to) Bâ̆ pum.
Play (to) Líng.
Place Tach.
Pound (weight) Neal.
Put (to) Dăc, tuo.
Piece Comnap.
Q.
Queen Khsatrey.
Question (to) Dondeng.
Quit (to) Léng, léa.
Quick Chhăp.
R.
Reason Sack Kedey.
Row (to) Cheo.
Rank Chuor.
Raze (to) Côr.
Rat Condor.
Ray Reăcsemey.
Recently Âmbauh.
Receive (to) Totuol.
Recompense Rongvoú.
Rent Viéch.
Rule (to) Soi réach.
Regret (to) Sdai.
Religion Sassena.
Repent (to) Chhu chá̆t.
Reply (to) Chhlói.
Respect (to) Cat Khlach.
Remain (to) Non.
Restore (to) San̂g viuh.
Rouse (to) Dàs.
Revolt (to) Kebâ̆t.
Rich Cââ̆c.
Riches Sombat tròp.
River Prêe, stùng.
Rice Iron. Ângeâ. Bai.
Roast Thang.
Red Crehâm.
Route Thlon.
Roof Tambâl.
Rain Phliéng.
Run Rã̆t.
Rain (to) Phliéng.
Rotten Laoy.
River Touli.
Ripe Eam.
Read Sot.
Rainbow Anthua.
Ring Anchién.
Relation Bang phoon, sach uheat.
S.
Spit (to) Sdâ Pruvs.
Strengthen (to) Chuol.
Spider Ling peáng.
Sit down (to) Ângmi.
Sharp Sruéch.
Sharpen (to) Sâmbiéng.
Smell Eum Keloń.
Shadow Molâp.
Storm Phiu.
Straw Chambońg.
Speak (to) Sredey--Nieáy.
Sweep (to) Bas.
Stick Iâmbâng.
Shine (to) Phlú.
Seal Ira.
Slander (to) Chombon.
Soul Prea lúng.
Smelling Amnach, p. bâzmey.
Set out (to) Eau.
Stone Ehmâ.
Sweet Saân.
Straight Eran̂g.
Squirrel Comprŏc.
Still Etiér.
Swell (to) Hŏm.
Send (to) Pró, phnô.
Shoulder Sma.
Sword Sâmsér.
Stuff Sompat.
Star Pheai.
Study (to) Rień.
Split (to) Su.
Son Cou Pros.
Strong Khlang.
Strike (to) Meay.
Son-in-law Côu prusa.
Swallow Trechiéc cam.
Shame Khmas.
Swear (to) Sebât.
Shine (to) Phlu.
Slander (to) Sredey dám.
Sea Sremăt.
Sparrow Chap.
Show (to) Bânghanh.
Soft Som.
Swim (to) Hêl.
Snow Ap.
Sing (to) Chrieng.
Seek (to) Roc.
Scissors Contray.
Sew (to) Dér.
Short Keley.
See (to) Sâmléng.
Shore Mót compong.
Stream Stûng.
Sand Khsach.
Sabre Dan.
Sacrifice Buchéa.
Seize (to) Toc, chap.
Season Câughê.
Salary Chhnuol.
Sob (to) Tuéuh.
Satiety Châet.
Sauce Sômlâ.
Savoury Pisa.
Seal Era.
Seal (to) Prelâc âmbêl.
Saw Anar.
Saw (to) Ar.
Scribe Smién.
Sculptor Chhleăc.
Shake (to) Ângruom.
Succour (to) Chuey.
Secretary Smień.
Sow (to) Prô, sap.
Serpent Pôs.
Sieve Chuey.
Sex Ângiochéat.
Silent Sngiém.
Silk Pré.
Soldier Pôl, tahéan.
Sun Ehngay.
Sound (to) Phsâm.
Sulphur Eeá.
Suffer (to) Spoń thor.
Soil (to) Chhú, ât.
Suspicion Montúl.
Statue Rup.
Stimulate Âutóng.
Succession Mârdâ̆c.
Sugar Seâr.
Suffice (to) Lemon.
Supplicate (to) Ângvâr.
Support (to) Â̆t.
Suspend (to) Phiuor.
Stoop (to) Pontēep Khluon Êng.
Soon Chhăp.
Silent (to be) Non sugiém.
Steep (to) Trom.
Sell (to) Lô̆c.
Stomach Khial.
Smooth (to) Smó, reling.
Say Sredey.
Small pox Ot.
Shed (to) Chăk.
Saucepan Chhang, keteă.
T.
Take (to) Yoi.
Tail Cŏntui.
Think (to) Niŭ, rompûng chŏuchúng.
Thus Hêt nê.
Then Eŭp.
To-day Ehngay nê̆.
Thin Siom.
Trade Ehneúh prô.
Thunder Routèa.
Taste (to) Shlõ̆c.
Tear (to) Reliĕr.
To-morrow Sõă.
Tooth Ehmeúh.
Teach (to) Predan.
Together Kenéa.
Thick Crăs.
Thorn Soŭla.
Tin Somnăr Pahang.
Trust (to) Dêc.
Take care (to) Réacsa.
Tipsy Chăêt, srevońg.
Tobacco Ehnăm chõ̆c.
Table Tang.
Try Prońg.
Tax Põ̆n, suey.
Testimony Bŏntál.
Tempest Phin.
Temple Preă viheár.
Time Cal, pileá, vileá.
Thibet Preă, sumér.
Tiger Khla.
Thee Êng, preă, sedêng.
Thunder Phiôr, roŭteă.
Torch Chôulô.
Torrent Stung.
Tortoise Ândoc.
Touch (to) Pó̆l.
Tower Preă-sat.
Turn (to) Vil.
Translate (to) Prê.
Traffic Chomnuénh.
Transcribe (to) Châmlâng.
Tremble (to) Nhór.
Trumpet Erê.
Throne Cõ̆l.
Too much Pic.
Troop Fông, cân-bân.
Tile Kebúońg.
Turbulent Repus.
Town Pŏnteéy.
True Prã̆cã̆t; Arã̆ng.
Thing Rebâs.
Travel (to) Dór.
Toad King cok.
Twin Cŏn Phlô.
There Ênŏ, nŏ.
Tear Eŭć Phneé.
U.
Undergo (to) Mãrdã̆c.
Uproar Vôr.
Ulcer Bõ̆s.
Universe Lu key.
Unite (to) Phsã̆m.
Urine Tuc uõ̆um.
Usage Tomlóp.
Use (to) Pro.
Useful }
Utility }Preioch.
Understand (to) Yŏl.
Useless Ât preíoch.
Upright Chhor.
Untie (to) Srai.
Under Crom, ê crom.
Ungrateful Smŏr.
Ugly Airâc.
V.
Very Năs.
Vague Relõ̆c.
Vessel Sâmpon, capol.
Vaunt (to) Uot.
Vase Chan.
Vein Sesay.
Venom Pŭs.
Virtue Cousâl, bŏn.
Victory Chhneă.
Virgin Prommâ̆châ̆rey.
Village Phum.
Violent Khlang.
Violet Sâmbôr soag.
Violin Chăpey.
Visit (to) Suor.
Vow Bâmmâ̆n.
Vow (to) Bân bâmmâ̆n.
Veil Sounoiéa.
Veil (to) Bang.
Voice Sâmleńg.
Vomit (to) Cunot.
Voracious Lupha.
Vice Bap, tus.
Vegetable Poule pongea.
W.
When Calna.
Who Nana.
What Oy? Sat ay?
Wake (to) Phuheăc.
Wisdom Samphi.
Winding Chhăp.
Work Car.
Work (to) Thú car.
Watch (to) Retrit tetrut.
Wind Khiâl.
Worm Chŏulin dûngeon.
Well (a) Andońg.
Word Peac.
Why Debâtay.
We Túng.
Work Chĕang.
Water (to) Sroch.
Wait (to) Ohâm.
Wash (to) Pongeon.
Water-closet Leáng.
When Căl, calêna, compung.
Wicked Bap, Chomugú.
Walk (to) Dór.
World Long.
Word Peác.
Wall Comphin̂g.
Water Tŭć.
Write (to) Sâ̆cer.
Wife Propôn.
Wake (to) Dăs.
Wave Touli.
Wager Phnŏl.
War Só̆c.
Wine Sra.
Wish (to) Châng.
Warm Cadan.
Warm (to) Prap.
White Sâ.
Wound Rebuos.
Wood Srey.
Where Êna.
Woman Srey.
Widower Pomaí.
Y.
Yes Chŭs, bât, côrna.
Year Chhnam.
Yellow Lúóng.
Young Coming.
Yesterday Mŏsãl.
Z.
Zeal Chhú chaăl.
Zinc Sămnăr pang Krey.
NAMES OF THE NUMBERS.
1 Muey.
2 Pir.
3 Bey.
4 Buon.
5 Prăm.
6 Prămmuey.
7 Prämpil.
8 Prămbey.
9 Prambuon.
10 Dâ̆p.
11 Mõtó̆n Dâ̆p.
12 Pirtó̆n dâ̆p.
13 Beytó̆n dâ̆p.
14 Buontó̆n dá̆p.
15 Prămtó̆n dá̆p.
16 Prămmueytó̆n dá̆p.
17 Prămpiltó̆n dá̆p.
18 Prămbeytó̆n dâ̆p.
19 Prămbuontó̆n dâ̆p.
20 Mŏphey, or Bien Phey.
21 Mŏphey muey, or Phey muey.
22 Mŏphey pir, or Phey pir.
23 Mŏphey bey, or Phey bey. &c.
30 Sumsá̆p.
40 Sêsó̆p.
50 Hosá̆p.
60 Hocsá̆p.
70 Chêtsá̆p.
80 Pêtsó̆p.
90 Cansá̆p.
100 Mŏ roi.
200 Pir roi.
300 Bey roi.
400 Buon roi.
500 Prăm roi.
600 Prămmuey roi. &c.
1,000 Mŏ pŏn.
2,000 Pir pó̆n. &c.
10,000 Mŏ mŭn.
100,000 Mŏ sên.
1,000,000 Mŏ cõt.
10,000,000 Mŏ béan.
100,000,000 Mŏ a Kho.
1,000,000,000 Mŏ puni.
CARDINAL POINTS.
North Ê chûng, Tùs udãr.
South Ê thbong, Tus ê bor.
East Ê cát, Tus ê cát.
West Ê lich, Tus ê chém.
SEASONS.
Rainy Season Cânghê or redon phliéng.
Hot or Dry Season Cânghê or redon cadan.
Winter Cânghê or redon rengèa.
THE DAYS OF THE WEEK.
Sunday Atú̆t.
Monday Chan.
Tuesday Âng Kéar.
Wednesday Pût.
Thursday Prĕa-hó̆s.
Friday Sŏc.
Saturday San.
THE NAMES OF THE MONTHS.
1. March Chêt.
2. April Pisac.
3. May Chis.
4. June Asat.
5. July Srap.
6. August Phetrebot.
7. September Asôch.
8. October Cârdó̆c.
9. November Méac Khsér.
10. December Bõ̆s.
11. January Méac thõ̆m.
12. February Phâ̆l cun.
CYCLE OF TWELVE YEARS.
1. Pig Côr.
2. Rat Chût.
3. Ox Chhlom.
4. Tiger Khal.
5. Hare Thâ.
6. Dragon Rung.
7. Serpent Méa Sanh.
8. Horse Méa mê.
9. Goat Méa mê.
10. Monkey Voê.
11. Cock Roca.
12. Dog Chô.
PRONUNCIATION OF THE CAMBODIAN VOWELS.
a, ă, ã; é, ê; i; o, ó; u, ú.
CAMBODIAN VOWELS.
a. This is pronounced like the English word, “Palm.”
ă. This is pronounced short; as, “Mat.”
ã. This is something between the _a_ and the _o_; it is pronounced like
a very open _o_.
é. This is pronounced like our close _e_; as, “Men.”
ê. This is pronounced like our open _e_; as, “He.”
i. This is pronounced also like our _e_.
o. This is pronounced like our _o_; as, “Go.”
ó. This is pronounced like _eu_ in “Liqueur.”
u. Like _ou_, in “You.”
ú. This is pronounced like _u_.
DIPHTHONGS.
Ai, ei, oi, ôi, ói. This is pronounced with a single emission of sound.
Ay, ey, oy, óy, ui, úi. This is pronounced with two emissions of sound,
as, a-ï, e-ï, o-ï, u-ï, ú-ï.
Cha, ché, chi, cho, chu. This is pronounced as Tia, tié, tii, tio, tiu;
with a single emission of sound.
Chha, chhé, chhi, chho, chhu. This is pronounced as Thcha, thché
(etc.), with a strong aspiration.
Kha, khe, khi, kho, khu. This is pronounced as Ka, ke, ki (etc.), with
a strong aspiration.
Nha, nhe, nhi, nho, nhu. This is pronounced as Nia, Nie (etc.), with a
single emission of sound.
Pha, phe, phi, pho, phu. This is pronounced as pa, pe, pi (etc.), with
an aspiration.
Nga, nge, ngi, ngo, ngu. This is pronounced hard.
Tha, thé, thi, tho, thu. Hard, and with an aspiration.
THE LORD’S PRAYER IN CAMBODIAN.
O’ Preă dâ công lu mic, apuc Túng Khnhŏm oi: Túng Khnhŏm ângvâr
Preă-âng, som oi ûs neăc phâng têng núng cot sesór preă néam Preă-âng:
som oi preă-nocor Preă-âng ban Túng Khnhŏm. Som ai rebal méan non dey
thú tam preă hartey Preă-âng dock lú mic. Ahar Túng Khnhŏm sâ̆p thngay
som ai Túng Khnhŏm ban thngai nê: hoï som pros bap Túng Khnhŏm dock
iung Khnhŏm â̆t tus neăc êna mian tus núng Túng Khnhŏm: hoï som pum
ai Túng Khnhŏm doi comnach: tê aî Túng Khnhŏm ban ruéch âmpi ândâ̆rai
teăng puâng. Amén!
LETTERS FROM M. MOUHOT.
TO SAMUEL STEVENS, ESQ.
[To be communicated to the Royal Geographical Society.]
Brelum, among the Savage Stiêns, lat. N. 11° 46′ 30″,
long. W. 103° 3′, merid. of Paris, 15th October, 1859.
DEAR MR. STEVENS,
I profit by a favourable opportunity which has just presented itself
to write you a few hasty lines to let you know that I am alive. For
the last two months I have been living with the savage Stiêns amidst
their immense forests, the latitude being precisely as I have stated
above, and here I have passed the season most favourable for collecting
insects and land shells. In spite of the letter given to me by the King
of Cambodia, ordering all the chiefs of the Srok Khmer, or Cambodian
villages, to furnish me with the means of transport on my journey, I
experienced much difficulty, as frequently neither buffaloes nor carts
were to be found in the hamlets through which I passed. My journey took
me a month to accomplish, which is about three times as long as it
would have taken me on foot.
On the 21st July, after having descended the great arm of the Mekon
from Pinhalú, a village about nine miles from the capital, and in
lat. 11° 46′ 30″ N. and long. 103° 3 W. merid. of Paris, as far as
Penom Peuh, a commercial town filled with Chinese, and situated at
the conflux of two streams, I ascended the great Cambodian River,
the water of which is still low, as all through the country the rainy
season is two months later than usual. The Mekon is studded with
islands, of which many are eight or nine miles long and more than a
mile broad; such is the large and beautiful island of Ko-Sutin, where I
arrived after five days’ journey. I estimate the width of the river to
be about three miles. Pelicans are found on its waters, often in flocks
of more than fifty, and storks, sea swallows, and other aquatic birds,
abound in the shallow parts of the river. The general aspect of this
mighty river is, however, rather sombre than gay, although doubtless
there is something imposing in the rapidity of its waters, which run
like a torrent. Few boats are to be seen on it, and its banks are
almost barren (the forests being more than a mile distant), and, being
constantly undermined by the water, fall down at the least shock, and
this is generally all that you can see or hear. The Menam is much more
gay and animated.
The rapids and cataracts commence about thirty or forty leagues north
of Ko-Sutin, on the confines of Laos, and it is there necessary to
leave the large boats and take to canoes, which as well as the luggage
are often obliged to be carried on men’s backs.
The current of the Mekon is so strong that at certain times of the
year you can go little more than a league a day, and the rowers often
seek for fire in the evening at the very place where they cooked their
rice in the morning. I ascended it in a small boat with three rowers,
but at every bend of the river we had the greatest trouble to make
any progress, and were frequently obliged to hold on by the rushes to
prevent our being carried away by the current. Eight days after leaving
Pinhalú I reached Pemptiélan, a large Cambodian village, where I found
it necessary to take to land travelling.
There still remained 150 miles to travel in carts, all in an easterly
direction. I was well received by the mandarin at the head of affairs
in this part of the country, and was able to set out again in two days.
The first day our conveyances upset, and I feared that we should be
unable to proceed; there were continually dreadful bogs, quagmires,
and marshes, in which the carts sank up to the axletrees and the
buffaloes to their bellies. Fortunately on the following day the road
improved, but for three weeks all that was visible was a few scattered
rice-fields round the villages, and we had to make our way through a
marshy plain, covered with thick and dark woods, which reminded one
of the enchanted forest of Tasso, and it is easy to understand that
the imagination of a pagan race peoples these gloomy solitudes with
evil spirits. Twenty times in an hour the men who accompanied us were
obliged to raise the large branches and cut down the trunks which
obstructed our passage, and sometimes we had to make a new path for
ourselves.
The Cambodians were all much surprised at seeing us journeying towards
the Stiêns at the worst time of the year, for in that country the rainy
season had commenced, and even those who live nearest dare not venture
there; and had I not brought with me from Siam my two young servants,
I could not for any money have found a single individual to accompany
me. Even they felt great repugnance to proceed--for in Siam, Cambodia
bears a terrible reputation for unhealthiness, and unhappily both for
them and for myself they were attacked with fever in the forests, since
which, instead of receiving any help from them, I have had two patients
to nurse.
Passing through a village peopled by a barbarous race of Annamites,
I ran great risk of being taken prisoner by them, and being sent to
finish my researches in a dungeon. Last year the carriages belonging to
a French missionary were completely rifled, and the men sent with ropes
round their necks to Cochin China. I loaded all my guns, and gave one
to each of my men: our firm appearance, no doubt, frightened them, for
we were not attacked.
In spite of the heat, the fatigue, and privations inseparable from
such a journey, I arrived among the Stiêns in perfectly good health
as far as I was concerned, and here I found a settlement of Catholic
missionaries from Cochin China. It would have been impossible to go
further, for I could neither find means of transport nor provisions,
for at this time of the year the poor savages have consumed all their
rice, and have nothing to live upon but herbs, a little maize, and
what they can catch in the chase. I therefore accepted the hospitality
offered to me with much kindness by a good priest. In a few weeks the
rainy season will be over, the nights will become cold, and for several
months insects will be found, and after that will come the turn of the
birds, with which I shall exclusively occupy myself.
My departure from here will depend upon circumstances; perhaps I
shall myself be the bearer of this letter to Pinhalú, perhaps I may
be detained here some months by the bad state of the roads and the
impossibility of procuring vehicles during the rice-harvest.
If you ask who are this strange people, living retired on the
table-lands and mountains of Cambodia, which they appear never to have
quitted, and differing entirely in manners, language, and features from
the Annamites, Cambodians, and Laotians, my answer is that I believe
them to be the aborigines of the country, and that they have been
driven into these districts by the repeated inroads of the Thibetians,
from whom they evidently descend, as is proved by the resemblance of
features, religion, and character.
The whole country from the eastern side of the mountains of Cochin
China as far as 103° long., and from 11° lat. to Laos, is inhabited by
savage tribes, all known under one name, which signifies “inhabitants
of the heights.” They have no attachment to the soil, and frequently
change their abode; most of the villages are in a state of continual
hostility with each other, but they do not attack in troops, but seek
to surprise each other, and the prisoners are sold as slaves to the
Laotians.
Their only weapon is the cross-bow, which they use with extraordinary
skill, but rarely at a distance of more than twenty paces. Poisoned
arrows are used only for hunting the larger animals, such as elephants,
rhinoceros, buffaloes, and wild oxen, and with these the smallest
scratch causes death, if the poison is fresh: the strongest animal does
not go more than fifty paces before it falls; they then cut out the
wounded part, half roast it without skinning or cutting it up, after
which they summon the whole village by sound of trumpet to partake of
it. The most perfect equality and fraternity reign in these little
communities, and the Communists would here find their theories reduced
to practice and producing nothing but misery.
The strongest European would find it difficult to bend the bow which
the Stiên, weak and frail as he appears, bends without effort,
doubtless by long practice.
They are not unacquainted with agriculture, but grow rice and plant
gourds, melons, bananas, and other fruit-trees; their rice-fields are
kept with the greatest care, but nearly all the hard work is done
by the women. They seldom go out in the rainy season on account of
the leeches, which abound in the woods to such a degree as to render
them almost unapproachable; they remain in their fields, where they
construct small huts of bamboo, but as soon as the harvest is over and
the dry season returns they are continually out fishing or hunting.
They never go out without their baskets on their backs, and carrying
their bows and a large knife-blade in a bamboo handle. They forge
nearly all their instruments from ore which they procure from Annam
and Cambodia. Although they know how to make earthen vessels, they
generally cook their rice and herbs in bamboo. Their only clothing is
a strip of cloth passed between the thighs and rolled round the waist.
The women weave these scarfs, which are long and rather pretty, and
which when well made often sell for as much as an ox. They are fond of
ornaments, and always have their feet, arms, and fingers covered with
rings made of thick brass wire; they wear necklaces of glass beads, and
their ears are pierced with an enormous hole, through which they hang
the bone of an animal, or a piece of ivory sometimes more than three
inches in circumference. They wear their hair long in the Annamite
fashion, and knot it up with a comb made of bamboo; some pass through
it a kind of arrow made of brass wire, and ornamented by a pheasant’s
crest.
Their features are handsome and sometimes regular, and many wear thick
mustachios and imperials.
Quite alone and independent amidst their forests, they scarcely
recognise any authority but that of the chief of the village, whose
dignity is generally hereditary. For the last year or two the King
of Cambodia has occasionally sent the mandarin who lives nearest the
Stiêns to their first villages, in order to distribute marks of honour
to their chiefs, hoping little by little to subdue them, and to get
from them slaves and ivory, and already he receives a small tribute
every year. His emissaries, however, scarcely dare pass the limits of
the kingdom, so fearful are they of the arrows of the savages and of
the fevers which reign in their forests.
The Stiên is gentle and hospitable, and possesses neither the stupid
pride of the Cambodian, nor the refined cruelty and corruption of
the Annamite. He is the “good fellow” of the forest, simple and even
generous; his faults are those common to all Asiatics, namely, cunning,
an extraordinary power of dissimulation, and idleness; his great
passion is hunting, and he leaves work to the women, but, unlike the
Cambodians, robbery is very rare among them.
They believe in a supreme being, but only invoke the evil spirit to
induce him to leave them in peace. They bury the dead near their
dwellings. They do not believe in metempsychosis, but think that
animals have also souls which live after their death, and continue to
haunt the places they frequented in their lives. Their superstitions
are numerous; the cry of an owl, or the sight of a crow, just as they
are about to set off on a journey, they consider a bad augury, which is
sufficient to turn them from their plans.
When any one is ill they say it is the demon tormenting him, and keep
up night and day a frightful uproar round him, which only ceases when
one of the bystanders falls as in a fit, crying out, “He has passed
into me, he is stifling me.” They then question the new patient as to
the remedies which must be employed to cure the sick man, and as to
what the demon demands to abandon his prey. Sometimes it is an ox, a
pig, too often a human victim; in the latter case they pitilessly seize
on some poor slave, and immolate him without remorse.
They imagine that all white people inhabit secluded corners of the
earth in the midst of the sea, and often ask if there are any women
in our country. When and how I can return to Cambodia and Siam I am
ignorant, and I dare not think of the difficulty I shall experience
among the rude and stupid Cambodians in transporting my treasures. What
heartbreaking jolts my boxes of insects will receive! What palpitations
I shall feel each time some rough fellow takes them to place on the
oxen, elephants, or his own back! Poor soldiers of science! these
are our trophies, and in the eyes of some people find as much merit
as a piece of silk fastened to a pole; and what pains, patience, and
solicitude is necessary to procure them! therefore I believe my anxiety
as to my collections will be understood by the lovers of nature.
Pinhalú, 20th December, 1859.
P.S.--I arrived last evening at Pinhalú, in perfect health, and am now
about to go northward to visit the famous ruins of Ongcor and then
return to Bangkok, so I have little time to give you any details as to
what I despatch from Komput and Singapore. I am not quite satisfied;
for birds are scarce here, and I have but a small number; besides, my
boxes as I feared have been much knocked about; I sent them off to
Komput on men’s backs. On my return to Bangkok I will send you some
good maps of this almost unknown country.
TO SAMUEL STEVENS, ESQ.
[To be communicated to the Geographical Society of London.]
Khao Samoune, Province of Pechaburi (Siam).
Lat. N. 13° 4′, long. 100°. 15th June, 1860.
In my last letter, of March, 1859, I told you about two active
volcanoes that I discovered in the Gulf of Siam, one in the little
isle of Koman, lat. 12° 30′ 29″ N., and long. 101° 50′ 2″ W., mer. of
Greenwich, and of the probable existence of others whose workings were
latent and slow. Since then I have travelled through Cambodia, from
north to south and from east to west, gone up the Mekon as far as the
frontier of Laos, visited one of the savage tribes which live between
these two countries and Cochin China, then crossed the great lake Touli
Sap, explored the provinces of Ongcor and Battambong, which are full of
splendid ruins, one of which in particular, the temple of Ongcor, is
almost perfect, and, perhaps, unequalled in the world. I then passed
from the Mekon to the Menam, and returned to Bangkok.
A low table-land, of which the gradual slope takes a week to ascend,
separates the two rivers.
A chain of mountains, of which the highest peak is 6274 English feet
above the level of the sea, extends to the S.W., joins the ranges of
Chantaboun, Pursak, and Thung Yai, which are from 4000 to 5000 feet
high, and reaches nearly to Komput and Hatienne; while to the north
another small chain, joining the greater one of Korat, runs eastward,
throws some ramifications into the provinces of Battambong and Ongcor
Borege, which is 40 miles farther north, and bears the name of the
mountains of Somrai.
Not being in direct communication with the Archæological Society, I
wish to call your attention to the marvellous remains at Ongcor of the
civilization of a great people.
The country is rich in woods and mines, and although thinly populated,
produces enough cotton for the use of Cochin China, while the great
lake, which abounds in fish, furnishes an immense quantity of this
article also to China. Iron of a superior quality is also abundant,
and the Kouis, an ancient tribe of a primitive race, living east of
the Mekon, who speak the same language as the Stiêns, work it very
industriously. There are also many other mines, rich in gold, lead, and
copper, in the chains to the east and west; that of Pursak produces the
beautiful cardamom, which, when transplanted, gives fine stems but no
fruit.
Unluckily most of these mountains are frightfully unhealthy, and no one
but those who have lived there from infancy can remain long among them
with impunity.
In the island of Phu-Quor or Koh Trou, which belongs to Cochin China,
and which is very near to Komput, there are rich mines of cannel coal.
I was not able to get there, the war having rendered the people hostile
and cruel to all white men; but my attention having been drawn to it by
some ornaments worked in this mineral by the islanders, I procured two
specimens, which I send you.
There are several extinct volcanoes in Pechaburi, four of which I
have ascertained to form part of the numerous detached and conical
hills which are probably all ancient craters belonging to the great
chain Khao Deng, which occupies all the northern part of the centre of
the Malayan peninsula, and is inhabited by the Kariens, a primitive
and independent people, who, like the Stiêns and other tribes, have
doubtless been driven back to the mountains by the encroachments of
the Siamese, and where the inclemency of the climate protects them
against all attacks from their neighbours. The mountains are known in
the country as the Na-Khou, Khao, Panom Knot, Khao Tamonne, and Khao
Samroum. The last two are 1700 and 1900 feet above the level of the
sea, and only a few leagues distant from each other. All these craters
appear to have been originally upheaved (“craters of elevation” M. de
Buch styles them) from the bottom of the water, at a period when all
this part of the country, as far as the great chain, which I have not
yet been able to visit, was under the sea.
Besides an immense volcanic cone, in part fallen in, and where the
ground resounds under one’s feet, each of the mounts has several
lateral mouths and a number of fissures and chimneys, or passages,
which bear evident traces of subterranean fires. They are entirely
composed of trachytic rocks, scoria, lava, felspar, &c.
The Siamese have made temples of the largest of these caverns, which
are of great depth and breadth, and extremely picturesque. One of the
caverns of Samroum is quite inaccessible. Having descended to the depth
of 20 feet by a chimney 2 feet wide at its mouth, and shut in between
rocks, I found myself at the entrance of a deep cavern, but there all
my efforts to proceed farther were defeated; a few steps from the
entrance my torch suddenly went out, my breathing was checked, and I in
vain fired my gun several times in order to disperse the foul air.
TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT (HIS BROTHER).
Bangkok, 13th October, 1860.
To you, my dear brother, I address my last letter before quitting
Bangkok for my long journey to Laos. I have waited till the last moment
for the steamer which ought to bring me letters from Europe, but
unfortunately I am obliged to set out without receiving any answers to
those which I sent in May, on my return from Cambodia. I fear that,
once in the interior of the country, I shall have no means of sending
letters; arm yourself, therefore, with patience, dear brother, and do
not think me neglectful if you do not receive any; but be sure that I,
alone in those profound solitudes, shall suffer more than you, from my
ignorance of everything concerning those dear to me; and during the
eighteen or twenty months which the journey will probably occupy I
shall not see a European face nor hear a word which can recall to me my
beloved country.
I have done everything in my power to obtain letters and passports
from the French and Siamese authorities here, but all have been nearly
useless. I have obtained nothing but a letter from the King’s brother,
who has the superintendence of the provinces north of Laos, and with
that I trust to be able to get on. The good Dr. Campbell has supplied
me with medicines of all kinds, and as I am nearly acclimatized, and
have with me devoted followers--one particularly, Phrai, who would die
for me--you may be easy on my account. Besides, and I really know not
why, I have hitherto been much liked by the missionaries and natives,
and I am sure it will be the same there. Fever does not kill all
travellers. I have traversed many dangerous districts in my journey
to Cambodia, and I am safe. Let us trust in God, my brother, that I
shall be as fortunate in this expedition, and that we shall meet again.
Nothing is requisite but courage, hope, and patience. I am sober, and
drink nothing but tea. My food is the same as that of the natives,
dried fish and rice, and sometimes a little game which I shoot, and
roast on a spit after the fashion of the natives, that is, by two
bamboos stuck into the ground and another laid horizontally on them,
which is turned from time to time. My amusements are hunting, arranging
my collections, my drawings, to which I devote a great deal of time,
and of which some are not bad, as you may judge by those sent to the
Geographical Society of London, and my journal; with those I pass many
pleasant hours. Besides, you know how I love nature, and am only really
happy in the woods with my gun, and that when there, if I know you all
to be happy, I have nothing to wish for. I often think of our good old
father, but as long as you are with him I feel easy about him; you will
make him bear my absence patiently, repeat often to him how I love him,
and how happy I shall be when I can tell him about my long journeys.
And you, my brother, love and cherish your two dear children, my little
nephews; inculcate in them the love of nature, and teach them to think
that virtue is recompensed even here, and a good conscience ennobles
more than patents of nobility, or orders in the button-hole; bring up
your little ones in the love of God, and of all that is good and great.
Think and talk sometimes with Jenny of the poor traveller. Adieu, my
brother!
TO MADAME CHARLES MOUHOT (HIS SISTER-IN-LAW).
Khao Khoc, 21st December, 1861.
An unexpected opportunity presents itself, my dear Jenny, to send you a
few words before proceeding farther. A new year is about to commence:
may you, my dear little sister, experience in its course only joy and
satisfaction; may your interesting little family cause you unmixed
happiness; in a word, I desire every possible good for you. As for
myself, I ask nothing but the happiness of seeing you all again. Think
occasionally of the poor traveller whom every day removes farther and
farther from civilization, and who for eighteen months or perhaps two
years is about to live alone in a strange place, where I shall not have
even the consolation of meeting those good missionaries as at Brelum
and in Cambodia.
You know my manner of life, so I shall not repeat it. The heat and
the musquitoes make a real hell of this place. Those who praise it
must have hard heads and skins, or else must be comfortably lodged,
and surrounded by an army of slaves. They know nothing but its
enjoyments. If there is one pleasant hour in the morning and another
in the evening, one must think oneself lucky, for often there is no
peace night or day. My pleasures are, first, liberty, that precious
thing without which man cannot be happy, and for which so many have
fought and will fight still; then, seeing so much that is beautiful,
grand, and new, and which no one has seen before me. From these I draw
my contentment. Thank God! my health is as good as when I left you,
although three years have passed over me.
Soon I shall be in Laos, and then, what strange things I shall see
daily! what curious beings I shall meet, to whom I shall be equally an
object of curiosity! I shall have delightful days, then, perhaps, sad
ones, if my servants have the fever, which happens at intervals. If
only to enliven these solitudes, I could have you here, my dear Jenny,
or if I could sing like you, or even like a nightingale! Sometimes I do
make use of my falsetto voice, and hum the beautiful airs of Béranger,
and feel strengthened by the sublime odes of that great man of genius.
Two or three thin volumes--I say thin, for the white ants have eaten
the greater part of them--and a few old newspapers (new to me) compose
my library; but I have blank paper, which I fill as I best can; it is
an amusement, at least; and if it turn out of no other use than to
serve to amuse you all, I shall be satisfied, for I am not ambitious.
I dream as I smoke my pipe, for I must confess that I smoke more than
ever.
Well! the musquitoes and thorns will still be my companions for a long
time. It is my own choice, and I shall never complain as long as God
grants to all of you the joy and happiness I wish for you.
How I shall accomplish the long journey before me I know not; probably
with oxen and elephants; but if even I have to go on foot I care not,
so that I reach there, for I have determined to drive away even the
devil, should I meet him here.
TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.
Khao Khoc, near Pakprian (Siam), 23rd Dec. 1860.
MY DEAR BROTHER,
This is the sixth letter I have written, and written on my knees; and
in this heat, and tormented by musquitoes, it is an affair of as many
days. Do not complain, therefore, if this is short. Khao-Khoc is a
mountain nine or ten leagues north of Pakpriau, which I visited two
years ago, and where I have been waiting two months for the roads to
become passable, in order to reach Korat, and then Laos. I have made a
fine collection of coleoptera, particularly some remarkable longicorns.
I have but few shells or birds; nevertheless, the collection is
precious, and, although less numerous than the one at Pechaburi, it is
quite equal to it. I have been lucky enough to replace a great part of
the insects that were lost in the _Sir J. Brooke_.
I remain perfectly well, but my two poor lads suffer from time to time
with intermittent fever; quinine, however, generally stops it, and I
hope the change of air will do them good. The brave fellows do their
work none the less cheerfully, and they love me, and are quite devoted
to me.
I am only waiting for the arrival of my letters, through the medium
of my good friend Dr. Campbell, to set out, because when I have once
started I fear none of your letters will reach me.
I think I shall explore the Mekon, and go up as far as China, if
circumstances are favourable, and trust to bring back from this journey
many rare and precious things. I bought at Bangkok many articles to
give to those who shall aid me, such as red and white cloth, brass
wire, glass beads, needles, spectacles, &c.
_28th Dec._--The night before my departure for Korat. All the good
news I have received from Europe and from Bangkok has made me joyful.
I have just received with your letters a mass of papers. Every one is
kind to me, and that is very pleasant. My friend Malherbe has sent
me some _caporal_, which I had not enjoyed for a long time; he had
just received some from France, along with some pipes, and a precious
extract of sarsaparilla, invaluable for cooling the blood heated by
the climate, the food, and the troublesome musquitoes of which I have
spoken so often. I shall require another elephant to carry all the red
cloth sent to me by Mr. Adamson, and which will be invaluable in Laos,
as the people delight in it. I was moved even to tears at so many marks
of kindness from people who hardly know me.
TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.
Korat, 26th January, 1861.
I have been three days at Korat, which is about 140 miles
east-north-east of Pakpriau,--that is, nearly in the same longitude as
Battambong.
The journey, which I performed on foot, in company with a caravan
of 400 oxen carrying merchandise, lasted ten days, from four in the
morning to sunset, deducting only a few hours in the middle of the
day. My feet are in a bad state from crossing the mountains, but,
nevertheless, I enjoyed my journey.
On these uplands, which are more than 4000 feet high, the air is pure
and pleasant, the nights are fresh, and the early morning almost cold.
During these ten days I have collected but little, and my expenses have
been greater than I calculated on. Within the last two years everything
has doubled in price; but the governor appears honest; he paid me a
visit, which cost me a pair of spectacles, some engravings, and other
little things, but he has promised me conveyances, and a letter to the
chief of another province, who will provide me with elephants.
My health is excellent, and I hope it will remain so; my servants are
better. I am surrounded by a crowd of curious gazers, who fill up my
hut.
TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.
Saraburi (Siam), 24th February, 1861.
You will be astonished, my dear friend, to see my letter dated from
Saraburi, instead of from Laos. When I reached Chaiapume, I went to the
governor with my letters, and asked him to lend me elephants to enable
me to continue my journey, that being the only method of travelling
among these mountains; but he refused me decidedly, and consequently I
have been forced to retrace my steps. Here one can do nothing without
the help of the people in power.
I therefore returned to Korat, and established Phrai in a hut which
I hired of a Chinese; and went myself to Bangkok, to procure from the
authorities orders to the different governors of provinces to aid me
instead of throwing obstacles in my way.
From Korat I had the pleasure of travelling with an amiable mandarin of
Bangkok, who had been to fetch a white elephant from Laos, and who had
conceived a great friendship for me. He travelled in great style; the
caravan was magnificent; we had more than sixty elephants, two of which
were placed at my disposal, one for my own use, and one for my servants.
Finding myself in the good graces of this mandarin, I told him why I
was going to Bangkok, and he promised to obtain for me all I wanted.
When I reached Saraburi I found all the governors of Laos and the
first mandarins of Bangkok assembled there to take care of the white
elephant. The Siamese, being very superstitious, and believing in
metempsychosis, think that the soul of some prince or king has passed
into the white elephant; they have the same belief as to white apes and
albinoes, consequently they hold them all in great respect. They do not
worship them, for the Siamese recognise no God, not even Buddha, but
they believe that a white elephant brings luck to the country.
During the whole journey the men were busy cutting down branches to
make his passage easy; two mandarins fed him with different kinds of
cakes in golden dishes, and the King came out to meet him.
I owe, therefore, to the white elephant the most satisfactory letters
which I have obtained, and which have cost me my best gun and nearly
300 francs in presents; but I might have had to give much more, and,
as I am going to Bangkok, I can replenish my stock. As for the poor
elephant, he was so much cared for and so well fed, that he died of
indigestion.
It is a terrible affliction, and all the mandarins and other
dignitaries collected here are in great grief about it.
TO MADAME MOUHOT (HIS WIFE).
Saraburi, 24th February, 1861.
MY DEAR ANNETTE,
You will be much surprised on receiving this letter to see it dated
from Saraburi, for if you have received the one I wrote in January,
you must believe me to be already in Laos. But man proposes, and God
disposes. However, to reassure you, I must begin by saying that I am in
perfect health, and full of strength and hope. All goes well with me.
I had in fact reached Laos. I arrived at Korat after a tedious and
troublesome journey, for I had only a few oxen for my baggage, and
was forced to walk myself. From there I went to Chaiapume, and here
an animal of the mandarin species made himself great, and under the
pretext of having no elephants refused me the means of going further,
and was so rude and impolite to me that I determined at once to return
and protest against the very insufficient protection which had been
granted to me. Indeed, I could do nothing else, not being able to go
on. The elephant which had brought me to Chaiapume took me back to
Korat, and there I found a mandarin from Bangkok, who had been sent
to fetch a white elephant which had been taken in Laos. I begged him
to let me join his party, and he lent me two elephants, one for my
servant and luggage, and one for myself. I left Phrai at Korat, with
the greater part of my possessions, having hired a room for him in
the house of a Chinese, and a week afterwards found myself back at
Saraburi, in company with this strange divinity (who, by the way, had
more black than white about him), and of the grand personage who had
been sent to escort him, and who had showered on him every kind of
attention during the journey. He had an escort of fifty foot soldiers
and several on horseback. As for me, I wanted for nothing; at every
halt the mandarin sent me ducks, fish, fruit, sweetmeats, &c., and he
was also kind enough to allow me eight men as night-guards to watch
round my fire. In return, I discovered for him in the mountains large
quantities of copper, and even gold, which delighted him.
The whole province of Saraburi was in motion to do honour to the white
elephant; the King and all his court are coming here; the ministers
are here already to watch over him. I decided, therefore, to apply to
the Siamese, hoping to obtain more from them than from the Europeans;
and yesterday, hearing of the arrival of Khrom Luang, the King’s
brother, I hastened to address myself to him. He, however, had only
passed through, and was gone to Prabat, to join the King. However, I
found here the man I wanted, the mandarin who has most interest in
Laos, and without a letter from whom it would have been difficult to
proceed. I did not know him, but I went to him to ask about the Prince,
and told him what I wanted. “I am your man,” said he; “the Prince
can only give an order for me to write a letter, such as I will give
you, if you like.” I accepted gladly, and promised him in return my
double-barrelled gun, which I could easily replace, “if he would only
furnish me with the means of travelling through Laos without expense,
and would bring the Chaiapume mandarin to reason.” The poor governor
of Saraburi was with us, and had to remain more than an hour amidst a
number of others kneeling on the bare ground, while I was seated on
the mat of the mandarin, by his side, eating sweetmeats and drinking
tea, while he dictated a letter in which he called the governor of
Chaiapume a fool, and threatened to deprive him of his office, and
of this letter I was to be the bearer; and he promised me another
general one on the morrow, in which he stated that if I did not receive
efficient aid it might bring on a war; and this he also repeated to
all the chiefs present. My cause was gained, and I could plainly see
that our affairs must be going on well in Cochin China; the echo of
the cannon had its effect in Siam. However, I had promised him my
gun, and evidently he wished to have it before he gave me the letters.
This morning, therefore, I took it to him all cleaned and furbished
up. He was delighted with it, and gave me at once the letter for Korat
and Chaiapume, and to-morrow I am to have one which will carry me all
through Laos without any expense but a few ticals to the cornacs.
Without this, judging by what I had to pay for an elephant from Korat
to Chaiapume, my purse would have been exhausted by the time I reached
the north of Laos, and I should not have had the means of returning
without sending to Bangkok to ask for help, which would have been a
work of difficulty, and, what is worse, I should have been exposed
all along the route to the insolence of these arrogant mandarins.
Now, they will all humble themselves before me, taking me for some
important personage sent by the Emperor Napoleon or Queen Victoria to
collect butterflies, insects, and birds for them. I shall no longer
travel on foot, but on elephants, and shall want for nothing. Agree,
then, with me, that out of evil comes good, or rather, that God does
all for the best. When at Chaiapume I found myself obliged to retrace
my steps, after so many fatigues, and so great a waste of money, I was
only downcast for a few minutes; God almost immediately inspired me
with the idea that all would turn to my advantage, and this persuasion
never left me again. Unaccountably to myself, I was gayer on my return
than I had been in coming, although then I was everywhere well received
and kindly treated by the people. Even after my discourteous reception
at Chaiapume, all the inhabitants came to see me, to bring me little
presents, and to express their regret that they could not aid me from
fear of their chief. The head of the monastery took me to see some
ruins similar to those in Cambodia, and gave me a tiger-skin; and all
along the road I experienced the same kindness, and numbers came to me
to ask for advice and various remedies.
The Chinese are all my friends. When I returned to this town, you
should have seen them all run out to see me, and those at whose houses
I had stopped were full of inquiries as to my affairs, and crying out
“Ah! here is the gentleman back again.” The next day would be their New
Year’s Day, which they keep as a feast as we do Christmas. “I have come
back to feast with you to-morrow,” replied I; and the next day I was so
loaded with cakes and other good things that I have not finished them
yet.
You must arm yourself with patience, dear Annette, for I have not
yet finished. I learned this morning that a French ship of war is at
Paknam, I presume for the purpose of taking back the Siamese Ambassador
who has been so long expected in France. The king must be delighted,
for he has a great dread of any quarrel with France or England now that
he has seen their power. They may very probably come here, and at the
risk of losing three days I shall wait and see, for, doubtless, the
officer would receive me well, and do more for me than the Consul did.
After that, I shall go to Bangkok, where I shall remain only a day, in
order to buy a few necessaries in which I was beginning to run short,
such as camphor, shoes, cloth, and a gun, and to get a little money, 50
or 100 ticals, from M. Adamson, who will willingly advance it to me, as
he promised; and above all, to receive all the dear letters from home,
of which a number must be lying at Dr. Campbell’s.
My useless voyage to Chaiapume diminished my resources, and it would
be great pity that the want of a few hundred francs should force me to
return before I have completed my journey, and before I have finished
collecting what will amply repay all my expenses.
In a few days I will add a line to this letter to tell you the result
of my interview with the officer, and of my journey to Bangkok. I shall
hear news also from your letters; let them only be good, and I shall be
happy. I must now close my letter for to-day, my dear Annette; some day
you will see my journal, and read all my adventures in detail. I can
write no more to-day, but only repeat my assurance that I am perfectly
well, in spite of all trials, thanks to my prudence and sobriety. Show
this letter or anything that is interesting in it to all friends. I
speak only of my own affairs, but you know I am not changed. And yet a
few words of love would doubtless be more prized by you, but were I to
write a thousand I could not express half the love with which my heart
is filled for you all; indeed I fear to begin, for that would have no
end. I write all this on my knees; my back aches, and now I must go and
seek some repose. Au revoir! I trust soon to send you still better news
than this. I embrace you a thousand times from the bottom of my heart,
as well as all those dear to us, and am ever
Your devoted husband,
H. MOUHOT.
TO MADAME MOUHOT.
Saraburi, 25th February, 1861.
MY VERY DEAR ANNETTE,
I reached Korat two days ago, and in four more I hope to be able to
proceed northward. I have been obliged to travel on foot, not having
been able to procure elephants at Saraburi; my baggage was carried by
oxen. I feel perfectly well, and experience so little fatigue that on
the day of my arrival here I walked about till evening.
I write you these few lines only to set your mind at ease,
for--surrounded from morning till night by curious gazers who have
never before seen a European--it would be difficult to enter into
details, but, in truth, my journey furnished but few. I travelled with
Laotians, and found them very kind; in a few days I shall be in the
heart of their country, and think I shall find them superior to the
Siamese. I regret that this letter will be short, but I have little to
tell since I wrote last; when I am quietly settled in some little hut
in the midst of a village, I can write at my ease if an opportunity
presents itself.
Be easy on my account, dear Annie, and feel sure that God will not
abandon me; all my confidence is in Him, and this will never deceive
me. He will sustain and protect you also, and this assurance gives me
strength.
Adieu, my good Annette; take great care of yourself. I embrace you
tenderly, and am ever your devoted and affectionate husband,
H. MOUHOT.
P.S.--I shall set off to-morrow. Yesterday I visited an old pagoda;
there is another, but to which I shall not be able to go, as it would
cost me 9 ticals, and take several days, and I shall be obliged to be
excessively economical. Yesterday I had a visit from a mandarin, the
viceroy of the province. He was very amiable, and promised me a letter,
but the people are so kind that I have really no need of it, and even
the disagreeable ones I manage to gain over.
Adieu, my love. Do not forget me, but do not be uneasy. May God grant
to you the same tranquillity and confidence that I feel and make you
as happy as I am. Do not complain of the shortness of this letter; you
cannot imagine how I am pestered by gazers and idlers.
Embrace your dear mamma for me, to whom I wish good health; say
everything kind to Kate, &c. Once more, adieu, and au revoir! Your
devoted HENRI. I shall write whenever I find an opportunity.
TO MADAME CHARLES MOUHOT.
Louang Prabang (Laos), 23rd July, 1861.
Now, my dear Jenny, let us converse together. Do you know of what I
often think when every one around me is asleep, and I, lying wrapped in
my mosquito-curtains, let my thoughts wander back to all the members of
my family? Then I seem to hear again the charming voice of my little
Jenny, and to be listening once more to ‘La Traviata,’ ‘The Death of
Nelson,’ or some other of the airs that I loved so much to hear you
sing. I then feel regret, mingled with joy, at the souvenirs of the
happy--oh, how happy!--past. Then I open the gauze curtains, light
my pipe, and gaze out upon the stars, humming softly the ‘Pâtre’ of
Béranger, or the ‘Old Sergeant,’ and thinking that one day I may return
Corporal or Sergeant of the battalion of Naturalists.
Perhaps all this does not interest you, but you may feel sure that I do
not forget you nor your children; so let me, my dear child, talk to you
as we used to talk in the old times as we sat by the fire. When shall
we do so again?
In another year, or perhaps two, dear Jenny, I shall think of returning
to you all for some time. Shall you be very angry, my dear little
sister, when I say that it will be with regret?--for I should wish to
visit the whole of the mountains that I can see from my window. I say
“window,” but here such a luxury is unknown: I live in a shed without
either doors or windows--a room open to every wind.
I would wish, I repeat, to cross the whole network of mountains which
extend northward, see what lies beyond them, visit China or Thibet, and
see the Calmucks or the Irkoutsk. But, alas! I cannot trust my dear
insects. I say “my dear insects” as you would say “my dear children” to
the king of Louang Prabang.
How does all go on at Jersey?--for I hope that you are still there.
Your children form your happiness, and you can dispense easily with
travelling, or with those people commonly called “friends”--nothing is
so general as the name, or so rare as the reality--and you are right;
yet I consider a true friend as a real treasure. I may be wrong, for
man is so constituted as always to long for what he has not, but I wish
I had friends around me here; these places, now often gloomy, would
please me more.
I hoped that at the king’s return I should have the happiness of
hearing from you; but I am told that his journey will occupy a year,
and before that time I shall be away from here.
I hope, my little friend, that all is well with you. Embrace your
dear children for me, and talk to them sometimes about their uncle
“Barberousse,” who often thinks of them in this distant land, and is
collecting stories for their amusement on his return. Ask C---- what I
shall bring him--a monkey, a sabre to cut off M----’s dolls’ heads--no,
that would give him warlike ideas, and I do not like our modern
soldiers--or a tiger-skin for a carpet. I have several. And your pretty
little M----, will she have an ape, a fan, some Chinese slippers (for
she must have feet which would be small even in China), some marabout
feathers, or a cane to keep her brothers in order?
Adieu, adieu! Au revoir! Do not forget me.
TO MADAME MOUHOT.
Laos, Louang Prabang, 27th July, 1861.
During my journey through the forests I enjoyed in anticipation the
pleasure I should enjoy on reaching Louang Prabang, the capital of
the province of Laos, in writing you good long letters containing all
details of my journey; but I reckoned without my host, and it will be
several weeks before I can enjoy any repose, or carry my wishes into
execution.
In the villages through which I passed no great degree of curiosity was
manifested; but here, where the population is greater, I am surrounded
by a compact and curious crowd, which extends even to the walls of a
pagoda adjoining the caravanserai where I am lodged by the favour of
his Majesty the King. Besides, I, in my turn, see people of various
nations and tribes who excite my curiosity. Judge, therefore, if it
be easy to collect my ideas. However, I profit by the occasion of the
king’s departure for Bangkok in a few days to pay his tribute, and who
has offered to take charge of any letters for me, to give some signs of
life to you.
You will be happy to hear that I have accomplished this troublesome
journey satisfactorily, without the loss of a single man, and without
any personal illness. Indeed, my health has been very good, which is
more than I can say for my servants, who are so kind and devoted to me.
I am even astonished at myself, having gone through the mountainous
district which separates the basin of the Menam from that of the Mekon,
a place much dreaded by the Siamese, and covered with virgin-forests
like those of Dong Phya Phia, without having had a single touch of
fever, or, indeed, any indisposition, with the exception of _migraine_,
caused by the heat of the sun, and having my feet in a very bad state.
I bless God for the favour granted to me of having accomplished these
perilous journeys, and trust wholly to His goodness for the future.
I am now more than 250 leagues north of the place where two years ago
I first drank the waters of the Mekon. This immense stream, which
is larger here than the Menam at Bangkok or the Thames below London
Bridge, flows between high mountains with the rapidity of a torrent,
tearing up in the rainy season the trees along the banks, and breaking
with a noise like that of a stormy sea against the rocks, which form a
number of frightful rapids.
I arrived here only the day before yesterday, after a journey of four
months and ten days; but I stopped in several places, for I often found
fields ready to cut in the rice-grounds that the mountaineers cultivate
on the slopes of the mountains, and when the crops are cut down insects
abound.
My collections made during the journey are very valuable and beautiful,
and I have a great number of new species, both entomological and
conchological, with which, if they only reach London in safety, our
friends will be delighted. All the beautiful kinds that I was asked
for, but which elsewhere are so rare that with great trouble I was only
able to procure one or two specimens, I have now in great abundance,
and also many new sorts. Here I hope to do still better.
They are all savages in this province, and I have just received a visit
from two young princes remarkable for their stupidity.
I have suffered little from the heat, in spite of the season, which is
easy to understand, as I have been always amidst thick forests or on
mountains. In the valleys the air is heavy, and the heat overwhelming;
but everywhere the nights were so fresh that my wraps were useful and
almost indispensable. In a few months we shall probably want fire. I
prefer this climate to that of the South; there are few mosquitoes
(that plague of the tropics and especially of Siam) in comparison with
other places--indeed, in some of these parts I have not found any.
Thanks to the Governor of Korat, who gave me an excellent letter to the
mandarins, I have travelled at little expense; without it, I should
have paid much more, and have suffered every kind of inconvenience.
Everywhere I have been furnished with elephants (as many as seven in
some provinces), an escort, guard, and plenty of provisions.
I had this morning an audience of the great body of State Mandarins,
like the House of Peers with us. Twenty of them were assembled in a
vast caravanserai, and presided over by the eldest prince. You may form
some idea of the dignity of these gentlemen by the drawing which I will
send to you.
My plan is to pass six or eight months of the good season in the
neighbouring villages, in order to complete my collection, and next
January or March I will try to go north or east, where I shall pass
a few more months amidst the Laotian tribes. Probably I shall go no
farther, for China would be a barrier to me on the north, and Cochin
China on the east. I shall then return here, and go down the Mekon in
July or August, 1862, the time when the waters are high, and shall
thus reach Korat in a few weeks. I am yet uncertain whether I shall
stop there, whether I shall explore the eastern part of the river,
or whether I shall go to Cambodia. All my movements depend upon
circumstances that may arise. I shall try to profit by all that are
favourable, and that will contribute to give interest to my journey.
Do not be anxious when you think of your poor friend the traveller, for
you know that up to the present time everything has prospered with him:
and truly I experience a degree of contentment, strength of soul, and
internal peace, which I have never known before.
[_Same Letter._]
Louang Prabang, 8th August, 1861.
No event could have caused more sensation here than the arrival of
“the long-bearded stranger.” From the humblest to the greatest--for
even here are distinctions of rank--every one looks on a “white” as a
natural curiosity, and they are not yet satisfied with looking--nothing
is talked of but the stranger. When I pass through the town in my white
dress, to go to the market or to visit the pagodas or other interesting
places, the people crowd round me, and look after me as long as they
can catch a glimpse of me. Everywhere I go complete silence reigns, and
I am treated as though I were a sovereign or prince, and the council,
by order of the king, have given to me as to them power of life or
death over his subjects. Poor people! why can I not raise you from the
abasement into which you have fallen--I am overwhelmed with presents of
all kinds in return for the slightest favour shown to these unfortunate
people. They seem to me some of the most to be pitied that I have seen;
even the women and children are opium-eaters: they might really be
called a nation of cretins.
The heat is greater here than any I have felt; when the sun shines,
and there has been no rain for several days, I find it worse than at
Bangkok; still the nights are generally pleasant, and from the month of
December to the end of March I am told that it is really cold.
TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.
Louang Prabang, West Laos, 27th July, 1861.
As you will have the opportunity, my dear brother, of reading my other
letters, I shall not write to you at length; but, nevertheless, I must
give you some details as to my journey to Laos, although I cannot tell
whether the crowd of curious gazers around me will permit me to write
as I would wish; if not, you must blame them and not me.
On the 10th April I wrote you from Korat, and I think you must also
have received a message which I sent to you by a good and honest
Chinese, who has been very useful to me, and from whom I have received
more help and kindness than from any other of the mandarins.
I was not then in good spirits, for I doubted whether I should be able
to accomplish the journey for which I had already suffered so many
annoyances, one of which was having to return to Korat to procure more
useful letters than those which I had taken with me on starting. At
last I obtained one from the Viceroy of Korat, which was the only one
of service to me, and which sufficed to secure me aid and protection
during my whole journey to Laos.
From Korat to Bangkok you know that I travelled in company with an
animal who has a title equal to that of the greatest Siamese mandarin,
and who was served by two inferior mandarins, who gave him his meals
composed of cakes, biscuits, and sweetmeats out of golden dishes;
and who had slaves sent before him to clear the way and cut down the
brushwood and branches, for this elephant, according to the Siamese
superstition and ignorance, possesses the soul of some deceased prince
or king. They called him a white elephant, but in reality he had only
a few spots of that colour on his body. Alas! The king and all his
mandarins are now in mourning, for the object of their worship died of
indigestion. Poor beast and poor king!
I have travelled a long way since I last wrote, and God has protected
me. I crossed the mountains and went through the most dreaded jungles
in the rainy season without losing a man, and without having suffered
myself. My travelling expenses were comparatively small to what they
might have been; everywhere I was furnished gratis with elephants,
escorts, guards, and provisions (rice and fowls), as though I were an
envoy from the king, and all this owing solely to a letter from the
Viceroy of Korat.
I have made a good collection of coleoptera, and have procured a number
of excessively rare and beautiful species. I have also obtained some
very rare and interesting conchological specimens. As for animals, I
have but few; some monkeys and a good many serpents.
In a week I shall be settled in a new place, where I intend to spend
four or five months, and by the end of the year I trust to have 4000
insects.
The Mekon is a large and beautiful stream, full of rocks, which form
frightful rapids in the rainy season. I shall descend it at the season
when the waters are high, and when the navigation though dangerous is
easy and rapid. I can then reach Cambodia in a month if I like, but I
am undecided whether or not I shall go eastward towards the 15th degree
of latitude.
It seems to me, my dear brother, that my happiness would be complete
if I could have good news of you all; but, alas! more than a year
must elapse before I shall hear. The last letters I received were in
January; yet I am resigned, since I willingly embraced this career,
which has been the dream of my whole life, for you remember how in our
young days, when we still had the happiness of a tender mother to guide
us, and impress on us, by her example, virtuous principles, religion,
and the love of mankind, we delighted to roam the woods of our dear
native place, to draw from nature, and how I stuffed the birds that we
took in snares or nets.
That time is long passed, my friend, but I trust in God, who will I
hope watch over you. I think of you every day in my solitude, and in
the long nights when we bivouac beside the fires lighted to keep off
the wild beasts, a scene of which I will send you a drawing before long.
What are your dear children doing--I picture to myself all the
happiness they give you and your dear Jenny; she is well I hope. Ah! my
friend, protect them all with a tender affection, and endeavour by your
love, your care, and your example, to render them all happy and good.
There is one subject on which I can hardly write, that of our dear old
father; it would make me too sad to think he was not happy; console
him for my absence, write to him often, repeat to him how much I love
him, that he is always associated in my thoughts with the memory of our
good and worthy mother. But I have no need to recommend all this to
you: have you not ever been good to him, a worthy son? therefore I am
without anxiety on this point.
I do not speak to you of any of my physical sufferings, for I hold
mental ones to be the only ones worth thinking of; but you may imagine
that one cannot make a four months’ journey on elephants, who toss and
shake one like a stormy sea, without fatigue, and that the heat, the
long bad nights generally passed at the foot of some tree, and the
wretched food, are all painful. But what matters all this? I am used to
it, and my patience is inexhaustible. In truth, this life is happiness
to me; how joyful I am when I find a new insect, or see a monkey fall
from a tree! I do not therefore complain. The nights here are pleasant,
and the mosquitoes not numerous.
The men of this nation are dull and apathetic and full of small vices.
The women are generally better, and some of them are even pretty in
spite of their yellow skins, but they have little idea of modesty. The
men and women all bathe together without any clothing. But for the
people, Louang Prabang would be one of the most charming places in the
world: the lake of Geneva does not present scenes more beautiful than
many here by the river.
After waiting for ten days I have at length been presented to the king
with great pomp. The reception room was a shed such as they build in
our villages on fête-days, but larger and hung with every possible
colour. His Majesty was enthroned at one end of the hall, lazily
reclining on a divan, having on his right hand four guards squatting
down, and each holding a sabre: behind were the princes all prostrated,
and farther off the senators, with their backs to the public and their
faces in the dust; then in front of his Majesty was your poor brother,
dressed all in white, and seated on a carpet, with teacups, basins, and
spittoons in silver placed by his side, contemplating this grotesque
scene, and having some trouble to preserve his gravity as he smoked
his pipe. This visit cost me a gun for the king and various small
presents for the princes, for one cannot travel here without being well
furnished with presents for the kings, princes, and mandarins. Luckily
it is not here as in Siam; the natives are willing to help me, and for
a few inches of brass wire I get a beautiful longicorn or some other
insect, and these are brought to me on all sides: thus I have succeeded
in largely increasing my collection, but five pieces of red cloth have
disappeared already.
The day after my first audience I had another from the second king,
who wished also for a present. I sought among my stock, which anywhere
else would cause me to be taken for a dealer in old stores, and found
a magnifying glass and a pair of old-fashioned spectacles with round
glasses, which make him look like a gorilla without hair, a little
cake of soap (he had great need of it), a bottle of eau-de-cologne,
and a bottle of brandy. This last was opened on the spot and duly
appreciated. You see all this is expensive, but I am obliged to pay
these good people, and the king has been kind to me, and is going
to carry my letters for me. It is lucky that he does not understand
French; for if at Bangkok the same system of postal curiosity was
carried on as was established in Europe by the great king who betrayed
La Vallière, I should be hung from the highest tree they could find,
without even a warning. I afterwards distributed among the princes some
engravings which I had bought at Bangkok--fine Cossack cavalry, lance
in rest; some Napoleons (the First), for which I gave a penny; and some
battles of Magenta, portraits of Victor Emmanuel and of Garibaldi, very
white, blue, and red, and some Zouaves; also some brass-headed nails
and some brandy; and it was quite pleasing to see how delighted they
were, regretting only that I should go away before I had given them my
whole stock.
TO SAMUEL STEVENS, ESQ.
[To be communicated to the Royal Geographical Society.]
Louang Prabang, 1st August, 1861.
Lat. 20° 50′, long. 102° 35′ 3″, merid. Greenwich.
DEAR MR. STEVENS,
Being entirely cut off from all communication with Bangkok, from which
I am nearly 700 miles distant, is the only reason why you have not
heard from me for so long a time.
In January last I quitted the Siamese province of Saraburi, where
during four months I had been making active exertions in order to
enable me to penetrate into Western Laos, and to explore the basin
of the Mekon. Unluckily in March I was forced, after having at great
expense proceeded 350 miles, to return to Bangkok, in order to claim
more assistance and protection than had hitherto been accorded to me,
and a passport to counteract the difficulties continually thrown in my
way by the mandarins, a class not less jealous and greedy here than
in China. A letter of recommendation which had been voluntarily given
to me (on my departure in October, 1860) by the Khrôme Louang Wougsâ,
who is considered to be the prince best disposed towards Europeans in
all Siam, and who has the superintendence of all the country which I
intended to visit, turned out after all to be only a kind of letter of
Bellerophon’s. In spite of all my entreaties and valuable presents I
obtained nothing better; still I set off again.
I have passed three times through the forest of the Dong Phya Phia,
which separates Korat from the ancient Siamese provinces of the
south and east. This thick jungle covers a space of thirty miles in
breadth,--that is to say, the chain of mountains which separates the
basin of the Mekon from that of the Menam.
After passing the mountains you reach a sandy and generally arid plain,
where nothing is to be seen but resinous trees of stunted growth,
bamboos, underwood, and sometimes only grass; but in some places a
richer soil permits cultivation, and there fields of rice and bananas
have been established. I found in this district both oligist and
magnetic iron.
In the bed of a torrent I also discovered gold and copper in two
different places. This district is rich and abundant in precious
minerals, neglected or unknown until now, except by a small tribe of
400 or 500 Kariens, without doubt a remnant of the aborigines, who a
short time ago, in order to preserve their independence, retired into
almost inaccessible places, thirty or forty miles eastward of the
tracts traversed by the caravans. Monkeys, panthers, elephants, and
other wild beasts are the only inhabitants of this mountain, which the
natives regard as the abode of death on account of its insalubrity.
Korat Ongcor Aithe of the Cambodians was formerly the bulwark of
Cambodia on the north and west: a solid rampart supported by a large
épaulement, the work of Khmer Dôme (the ancient Cambodians), still
surrounds the town. It is at present governed by a Siamese mandarin of
the first class, a kind of viceroy, but the ancient inhabitants have
nearly disappeared, and it contains only about 300 Chinese or their
descendants, small resident merchants, 300 other individuals who go
about the country trading, and 1500 or 2000 Laotians, Cambodians, and
Siamese, who, like wolves or jackals which follow an army or caravan,
have come there from all parts of the kingdom, or have remained there
after the wars of Laos and Cambodia, in order to lead a life in
harmony with their inclinations, attacking travellers and Chinese
merchants, in fact a hand of miscreants, with few exceptions destitute
of all good qualities.
In the environs are two temples, which would do honour to the founders
of the Cambodian edifices: one of them is in good preservation, and of
this I have made a drawing. The style, architecture, and workmanship
are all alike; one would say that the same artists and workmen had
drawn the plans and executed them. Again you see those immense blocks,
beautifully cut, joined without cement, and covered with carving and
bas-reliefs.
One of these temples is situated about thirty miles from the town, and
is said to have been founded by a Queen; the other, nine miles to the
east, is supposed to have been built by the King her husband. Much
farther east it is said that there are others containing beautiful
sculptures, but I have not been able to visit them, as they are out of
my route.
Want of means for the easy and advantageous removal of merchandise,
causes Korat to be the central market for all the eastern part of the
country. There they bring all the silk of Laos, langoutis, skins,
horns, ivory, peacocks’ tails, &c., which the active Chinese merchants
sell again at a good profit at Bangkok, notwithstanding all the taxes
they have to pay, having brought from thence cotton and other useful
articles of Chinese and European manufacture for the use of the
natives. Thus there passes daily through the forest of Dong Phya Phia,
on the average, a caravan of from 100 to 150 oxen. With protective
instead of restrictive laws, and an enlightened and civilized
government, this commerce would increase threefold in a very short time.
Notwithstanding the small population of Korat, it is the chief town of
a province, or rather an extensive state, containing eleven towns or
boroughs, chief towns of districts, and a great number of villages,
more or less populated. Fifteen days’ journey brings you from Korat to
Bassac on the banks of the Mekon, and in the same latitude.
My intention was to proceed northwards, only stopping in the province
of Louang Prabang, and then to descend the river as far as Cambodia.
I hired elephants, and five days after, having passed through several
villages inhabited by the descendants of ancient Siamese colonists who
had taken refuge there in time of war, passing continually through
forests of resin trees thinly scattered, I arrived at Ban Prang,
a village where I discovered a ruined tower, and also the remains
of an ancient temple. The next place I arrived at was Chaiapoune,
the principal Laotian town in the north, and the chief town of the
district. Here also I found ruins; but they were inconsiderable, and
seemed more like a Laotian imitation than the work of Khmer Dôme. The
inscriptions on the other temples in the province of Korat resemble
those of Ongcor: here I found upon a block of broken slate-stone an
inscription in Laotian characters, but which is unintelligible even
to the inhabitants of the country. These, with some remains of idols
and towers at the foot of a mountain in the district, were the only
vestiges of that ancient civilization which I discovered in the north.
Everything leads me to suppose that here also were the limits which
separated the kingdom of Cambodia from that of Vieng Thiane, destroyed
during the last war which the Siamese raised against the Western
Laotians or _white-bellies_. It was in this district that I was stopped
in my travels by the authorities of the country, who treated me with
great rudeness, and who forbade the people to let me have any means of
transport, even after seeing my passport. I was therefore obliged to
retrace my steps, deploring the expense and loss of time in the best
part of the year, and which will cause me serious inconvenience.
LETTERS ADDRESSED TO M. MOUHOT.[10]
[10] Several of these letters were never received by M. Mouhot.
FROM M. GUILLOUX.
Brelum, among the Stiêns, 12th August, 1859.
DEAR M. MOUHOT,
It must be allowed that you have plenty of courage; and before knowing
you, I feel a strong interest in you; indeed, I feel as though I loved
you already. You will be very welcome, and must share pot-luck with me,
like a brother, will you not? I trust you will not be scandalized at
any of our ways; for among the savages we live in rather an uncivilized
fashion. But with good hearts all will go well.
Your servant Nhu arrived yesterday among the Stiêns at Brelum, quite
tired with the journey, and with his feet in a sad state. A few days’
rest, however, will restore him. He looks to me like a good fellow.
You may be sure we shall take care of him, as well as of your little
Chinese when he arrives.
You must never trust to the word of a Cambodian, dear M. Mouhot; they
are terrible boasters.
You are two long days’ journey from us, and will have to pass one night
in the forest. We will try to send you one or two vehicles. These,
with a good covering and a fire, will preserve you from injury from
the night air. You say, too, that you are accustomed to sleep on the
ground; it is well to be able to do everything.
Unluckily, my feet are very bad just now, or I should have
been delighted to come and meet you. I will send the three
carriages--carriages! wretched carts rather! There will be an Annamite
seminarist to lead the caravan; he is a good fellow, and clever at that
kind of work. You can talk to him in Latin. Two of the carts are drawn
by oxen, and one by buffaloes; but if they are not enough to bring your
luggage, ask the Cambodians boldly for more, and show them your letter
from the king.
Our carts will arrive one day after the return of the Cambodians; when
you arrive I will explain why. I trust that will be soon. I wish you a
good journey. Keep your gun loaded, for animals of all kinds abound.
But you will find here warm hearts, patriotism, and, above all, no
ceremony.
FROM M. CHAS. FONTAINE.
Pinhalú, Cambodia.
DEAR M. MOUHOT,
I think of you in your peregrinations, and I feel sure that you
must meet with many obstacles and difficulties; but with patience,
perseverance, and help from on high, a great deal may be done.
As for myself, I have not got rid of my atony--for such is my illness.
At first I obtained some relief by means of opium as an astringent
and quinine as a tonic, and by great attention to diet, living almost
wholly on broth; a piece of meat, or even an egg, throws me back for a
week.
M. Guilloux set off in good health on the 9th January. He tells me that
you have promised to go and see his relations when you return to France.
I shall never forget, dear M. Mouhot, the pleasure that I experienced
in the few days that I passed in your society; such days are so rare in
our missionary life.
All is quiet just now in Cambodia; the forts or redoubts are guarded
only by a few men. Mgr. Miche is expected to return from Komput about
the end of March. Shall I be so happy as to receive news of you? It
would give me great pleasure, and recall that which I have already
experienced in our meeting in this life. Let us hope to be re-united,
no more to part, in a happier one.
Pray receive my kindest remembrances, and believe me, dear M. Mouhot,
Your true friend in the Lord,
MARIE CHS. FONTAINE.
FROM M. CHAS. FONTAINE.
Singapore, 29th May, 1860.
MY VERY DEAR FRIEND, M. MOUHOT,
Your two kind and welcome letters, one from Battambong on the 7th
March, and the other from Bangkok on the 3rd May, reached me when I
was about three days’ distance from Singapore, where I had gone for my
health, and which I reached in April, after having passed the whole
month of March in Bangkok.
I must tell you that MM. Arnoux and Guilloux have been able to buy
five or six little savage children, and that they now meet with a
little more kindness from the natives than they did. When France shall
reign in Cochin China, and the natives can shake off the yoke of
the Cambodians, it is to be hoped that they will be better disposed
towards religion. The king has already discovered the mistake he made
in attacking the Annamites, who may fall upon him without dread of
the French. Mgr. Miche thinks that the daily flight of the Cambodian
soldiers will avoid new provocation, and that the war may not take
place; but every one is on the _qui vive_. The king has sent a letter
to ask for silence on the part of M. Miche. They are fawning curs now;
but on the slightest return of good fortune, their arrogance will be
redoubled.
You gave me much pleasure, dear M. Mouhot, by your promise to visit my
family at Laval. If you go near there, I shall expect no less from your
kindness.
I hope to see you again, either at Singapore or at Saigon, before your
return to Europe. May the good God guide your steps and preserve your
life in this country, where death finds so many victims! I beg it
through the intercession of our common mother.
Believe in my cordial friendship.
Yours most truly, in Jesus and Mary,
M. CH. FONTAINE.
FROM M. GUILLOUX.
Among the Stiêns at Brelum, 1st October, 1860.
DEAR M. MOUHOT,
I received your welcome letter of the 4th May, and it is impossible to
tell you the pleasure it gave me. I was much pleased to hear that you
were still in good health. May the good God aid and bless your efforts,
and send you home safe and well to your family and country!
I sympathize sincerely with you in your disappointment at not meeting
at Bangkok with more kindness among those from whom you had a right
to expect aid and protection, and who are paid well for that purpose.
Alas! how weak we all are when we rely for aid only on men like
ourselves. But you, dear M. Mouhot, do not do so; you know how to seek
support from a higher source; and while you remain the submissive child
of God, be sure He will not abandon you.
I went to Pinhalú last month, and brought back a young Annamite with
me, but the poor fellow died.
You see I can travel; but I am not strong. I have been often ill since
your departure; and M. Arnoux is going this time to undertake the
journey to Cambodia. May God bring him back safe and well!
The affairs of Cochin China are very bad; debauchery and infamy are
rife at Saigon. So many crimes cannot bring a blessing on the colony.
No news from China.
Adieu, dear M. Mouhot. Believe me ever one of your most faithful
friends,
GUILLOUX.
FROM DR. CAMPBELL, R.N.
Bangkok, 15th Dec. 1860.
MY DEAR M. MOUHOT,
Your letters of the 30th October and 20th November were duly delivered
to me on the 12th instant. I was naturally rejoiced to find you
continue in good health and spirits; and I sincerely trust you will be
able, on each occasion you write, to give me a like favourable account.
Since you left there has been little or no change in Bangkok, the only
domestic item I have to communicate being the recent marriage of Dr.
Brady’s eldest daughter to one of the missionaries named M’Gilvary, who
used to stay with Dr. House.
Only one European letter has arrived for you, but I enclose others
from Mr. Wilson and Mr. Adamson, and, by the way, some newspapers
from him and M. Malherbe. The latter will probably write to you; if
so, I shall enclose his letter. The box from Europe also accompanies
this letter. Luckily it has arrived in time; but I only received it
yesterday. I forward you the evening mails just arrived by last vessel.
I could send you all that have come to hand since you left; but as it
is a voluminous paper, it would take up much space, and you might not
care to wade through all of them, in spite of the stirring events in
Europe. Garibaldi, you will perceive, has liberated Sicily, and all
but done likewise for the Neapolitan kingdom. The King of Naples left
his capital without firing a shot; but made a stand at Capua, where
his Neapolitans and mercenaries made a determined though ineffectual
resistance. The King of Sardinia in the mean time has invaded the
Marches, and now it is believed the states of the Pope are wrested from
him, Rome and the suburban villages alone being retained for him by
the French army stationed at Rome. It is not believed that an attempt
will be made to take Rome or Venice, as that would be encountering the
two great military Continental Powers, Austria and France. And it is
supposed that the aim of the King of Sardinia, in invading the states
of the Church and Naples, is to prevent the too ardent Garibaldi from
fulfilling his threat of no peace till the Quirinal and the palace of
the Doges be emancipated. However, all this you will see by the papers
herewith.
The China war is over. The combined forces advanced and took Pekin.
The emperor fled; but a treaty has been signed, and a large sum as
indemnity--though, I believe, not equal to the outlay--is to be given
to the European belligerents.
A Dutch ship is now here with an ambassador to make a treaty.
At Bangkok we have had higher tides this season than there have been
for several years. The place continues healthy.
I forward you some calomel as requested. Calomel is a good purgative,
and it might be well occasionally to take one such in preference to
others; but castor oil is the safest where there is any irritation of
the bowels. In such cases it should alone be used; though, if you
fancy there be derangement of the liver, it would be well to use the
mineral.
M. Malherbe has made up his mind to stay in Bangkok. As soon as his
successor comes out, he (M. M.) will live near Santa Cruz, at the house
owned by Mr. Hunter.
There is a chance of the second king going to Saraburi shortly in a
steamer; so, if I think newspapers would reach you before the Chinaman,
I may send you some, if a mail arrives by that time. However, I shall
not, you may depend upon it, forget to attend to your wishes; but I
really fear, after leaving Korat, it will be difficult to send you
letters. Even to Korat it will not be easy; but though you did not tell
me to send thither, I will do so, if possible, within two or three
months; after that date it would be precarious, and I shall not do
so. However, you can often, by the governors, have an opportunity of
writing to me; and if you have altered any of your plans, or think of
doing so, let me know, so that I may forward news if an opportunity
offers for doing so.
The articles sent are: one large box from Mr. Adamson, one small ditto
from Malherbe, one ditto from England, one parcel of papers from Mr.
Swainson, one ditto from myself; three letters (besides this one) are
enclosed in the box from M. Malherbe, which I will seal after enclosing
this. The calomel is also in the same box.
And now, wishing you a prosperous, pleasant journey, believe me,
Yours very sincerely,
JAS. CAMPBELL.
P.S.--Remember, whenever you return, I shall expect you to come direct
to my house, and make it your own.
FROM M. E. SILVESTRE.
Battambong, 26th Nov. 1860.
DEAR M. MOUHOT,
I had the honour of writing to you in September last; did you receive
my letter? As I did not know the courier, and am ignorant whether his
fidelity was to be depended upon, I do not wish to lose a sure occasion
which presents itself of recalling myself to your remembrance.
It is now the end of the rainy season, and I think that you must have
returned from your expedition. I trust it has been successful, and that
you have not left your courage and good health behind you on the banks
of the Mekon or in the forests of Laos.
I had promised to collect for you some “sinsei;” but the ants, true
Garibaldians, have annexed them during my journey to Pinhalú, and all
that I have been able to collect since are as nothing compared to what
the first rains brought with them. Such as they are, I send them to
you; they are few in number, but for that you must blame the ants.
I have just had a visit from M. Miche and M. Arnoux. They only remained
a few days; and in spite of his wish to see Ongcor, M. Arnoux was
unable to go there.
They are raising troops here, preparing arms, and getting ready to
assist the Cambodians against the Annamites. The death of the King of
Cambodia will perhaps put an end to these fine projects.
The mandarin who was sent by the King of Siam to carry away the stones
from Ongcor, and bring them to Bangkok, has been assassinated in the
“Pra Sat Ea proum,” and the mandarins of Ongcor are accused of the
murder; but they say that those of Battambong had a hand in it. They
have, therefore, all been sent for to Bangkok for judgment, and among
them the son of our late governor. You see we are not over tranquil
here. The war particularly terrifies my poor Battambongians.
Mgr. Miche is going to Bangkok in January or February; perhaps you may
be there.
Receive the assurance, &c.,
E. SILVESTRE.
FROM M. LARNAUDIE.[11]
[11] M. Larnaudie accompanied the Siamese Ambassador to Paris, as
interpreter, in 1860.
Pakprio, 25th January, 1861.
MY DEAR FRIEND, M. MOUHOT,
I have just received the two letters which you were kind enough to
write to me from Kong Khoc, containing enclosures for MM. Arnoux and
Silvestre. I much regretted not finding you here, that I might have had
the pleasure of seeing you once more, and of conversing with you again
before your departure for Laos. I am glad to hear that you have been
able to do something at Khao-Khoc in spite of the advanced season.
I wish you much success in your new sphere of action. Do you know that
I sometimes envy you? Do not forget to procure some skins of the argus
pheasant; I think it differs from those of the Malayan peninsula. Take
great care of your health; and if you are in want of anything which can
be sent to you by way of Korat, write to me for it.
The young man who will give you this is a Christian and an associate
of Cheek-Ke; he is a worthy lad, and you may trust him with your
collections, if you have been able to make any in going through Don
Phya Phia. All the Laotians declare that in that forest there is a kind
of orang-outang which they call Bua, and which they say is only to be
distinguished from an old man by its having no joints in its knees.
Among all their fables there is probably some truth; try to find out.
Excuse this scrawl; I write on my knees.
Your sincere friend,
LARNAUDIE.
FROM M. E. SILVESTRE.
Battambong, 4th January, 1862.[12]
[12] This date is after M. Mouhot’s death.
DEAR M. MOUHOT,
Imagine my surprise and joy when, a week ago, a worthy Chinese from
Korat entered my house, bringing me your letter of the 8th April.
Blessed be God for granting you good health and courage. With these you
can go far, even to the source of the Mekon; and if you return through
Cambodia, with what pleasure I shall see you again! But your letter is
dated more than eight months ago, and where are you now--I trust that
the rainy season induced you to descend the Menam instead of the Mekon.
Should you ever return to Battambong, you will find something new
there. A pretty little church now replaces the old one; it is not yet
quite finished, but I trust will be so very shortly.
Since I last wrote to you, grave events have taken place in Cambodia;
the mandarins and people have risen against the young king in favour
of his brother. It has been less a revolt than a universal pillage;
nothing has been spared. Mgr. Miche had great trouble to guard his
house, with the help of a young missionary and M. Aussoleil, for
all the Christians fled. For a fortnight he was subject to constant
attacks, and more than once saw sabres uplifted over his head; but his
firmness and bravery awed the mob, and he was lucky enough to preserve
his house.
Some damage was done to the Annamite church at the end of the village.
M. Miche wrote letter after letter to the French commander in Cochin
China, but his messengers were all murdered, or else robbed, and their
boats taken away from them.
At last, out of six letters, one reached its destination, and two
days after the French flag appeared in the rivers of Cambodia; and at
Pinhalú, six or seven cannon-shots spread terror among the rebels for
twenty-five leagues round.
The mandarins who had pillaged the village were fined, and since then
the Christians in Cambodia have been respected; and a letter sealed by
M. Miche is the best possible passport. All this is well, you will say,
and our countrymen did their duty.
You must excuse my lengthiness; at least, it will show that you are not
forgotten at Battambong, but that we preserve here a happy remembrance
of your too short stay. May you return in a few months, and recruit
after your fatigues.
I must conclude with offering you my good wishes on the new year, and
praying God to have you always and everywhere in his holy keeping.
I am yours very sincerely,
E. SILVESTRE.
FROM M. MALHERBE.
Bangkok, 25th May, 1861.
MY DEAR FRIEND,
On my return from Singapore I was much astonished to hear that you had
been forced to go back again, and was much pained to think of all the
troubles and discomforts you must have had to endure. How much I regret
not having been with you! perhaps I might have succeeded in persuading
you against making a new attempt, and have induced you rather to pass
some years here with me. Your task is a glorious one; but when life is
at stake, one must take care and not risk it rashly. In any case do not
attempt the impossible; and if your troubles recommence, return here;
you will always find a friend ready to receive you.
Your letter from Korat reached me a few days ago. I thank you for it;
it gave me great pleasure. In a few days I shall set out for Europe;
but I have given my orders, and you will find my house ready for you at
any time of the day or night. If you do not make use of it, I shall be
really angry.
Every one here is interested for you, and asks for news of you. Where
are you now? Doubtless much fatigued and _ennuyé_ wherever you are; yet
you must be travelling through a fine country. If you want anything
which it is possible to send you, have no scruples; I have given my
clerks all necessary instructions, if by chance or any unforeseen
circumstance--such as may easily occur on a journey--you find yourself
in want of what they call here “ticals.” We are friends,--dispose
freely of my purse; we will divide like brothers. Do not be offended at
this offer, it comes from a heart devoted to you; therefore, have no
false pride. Ask, and I will help you.
The heat is dreadful just now, and every one is ill of dysentery.
Au revoir, dear M. Mouhot. Take care of yourself, and do not be
discouraged by the dreadful climate. That we may have, please God, many
pleasant days together yet, is the earnest wish of your real friend,
L. MALHERBE.
LETTERS ADDRESSED TO THE FAMILY OF THE LATE M. MOUHOT.
FROM DR. CAMPBELL TO MADAME MOUHOT.
Bangkok, April 7th, 1862.
MY DEAR MADAME MOUHOT,
About three weeks ago I had the pleasure of forwarding a letter
from your husband, and I mentioned the probability of a second one,
written before the one sent, reaching me in time for this mail.
This has been realized, and I enclose the letter referred to. News
from Luang Prabang, up to the middle of November, have also reached
Bangkok, and oh! my dear madam, what a sad duty devolves upon me in
narrating certainties that have transpired since my last communication.
Would that I had some relation in London to whom I could write and
request him to call upon you, to divulge the painful truth that your
husband--my valued friend--is, alas! now no more. It may perhaps in
a measure tend to soothe your sorrow under this severe trial, to say
that I never knew a person who was so universally esteemed as he was by
the foreign community of this city; and that all who had the pleasure
of his acquaintance deeply regret his sudden and premature loss. The
last letter he wrote me was dated from Louang Prabang, on the 30th
August; in it he was satisfied with his success, and altogether buoyant
in spirits. He continued in the neighbourhood of the above-named
city, which is the capital of north-east Laos, till the middle of
October, when he returned to the city. On the 19th he has written in
his journal, “Attacked with fever;” but his servant and the Laos
official account of his illness make it the 18th. On the 29th he made
an entry, but nothing subsequently, and departed this life on Sunday
the 10th November, at 7 P.M., being twenty-eight days subsequent to
the attack. His servants, after seeing him interred, commenced their
journey hither, taking with them his baggage and everything he had
collected. M. D’Istria, the present French Consul, has to officiate as
administrator to the late M. Mouhot’s estate, but has assigned to me
the care of all your late husband’s manuscripts and collections. These
I thought of forwarding forthwith for Singapore, and thence, by the
kindness of Mr. Pady, to Europe; but as I expect to leave for England
on a short leave of absence by the middle of next month, I think it
better to retain them till then, and convey them home myself.
On your late husband arriving here, he brought me a small parcel
from Dr. Norton Shaw, Secretary to the Royal Geographical Society,
Whitehall-place; and as it is only proper that the Society should be
made aware of this martyr to science, I enclose two letters--the last
he wrote me--for your perusal, and that they may be handed to the
above-named gentleman for his information, forwarding, at the same
time, the announcement of M. Mouhot’s untimely death. On looking over
the charts he has left behind him, I find Louang Prabang placed 3° to
the north and about 1° to the east of that denoted in the map given
by Bishop Pallegoix; but as it would be improper to write about his
discoveries till you have received the documents, and given them to
some person for publication, I shall not dilate further on that topic.
And now, my dear madam, I beg to tender you my sincere condolence under
the heavy bereavement which it has pleased the Almighty to inflict upon
you,
And remain yours very sincerely,
JAMES CAMPBELL.
FROM M. CH. FONTAINE, MISSIONARY AT COCHIN CHINA, TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.
Foreign Missions, Paris, 128, Rue du Bac,
15th August, 1862.
DEAR FRIEND,
Permit me to give you this title; all the sentiments expressed in your
letter authorise it. What a worthy brother you weep for! and I, what an
honoured friend!
I had the pleasure of knowing M. H. Mouhot. I saw him first at Bangkok,
and six or eight months after at Pinhalú, in Cambodia, where he
remained with us ten days, sharing with us our house and our table,
which is always open to any worthy fellow-countryman whom chance may
lead to those parts. In both places all our brotherhood were charmed to
make the acquaintance of so devoted a scion of learning, so polished a
Frenchman, and so exemplary a Christian. All these qualities rendered
him dear to the whole of the missionaries who had the pleasure of his
acquaintance; and it was a real happiness to us to render him any
little service possible in the performance of the troublesome task
which he had imposed upon himself, of exploring countries so wild and
destitute of comfort.
On his return from among the Stiêns, where he met MM. Guilloux and
Arnoux, this dear friend lavished on me the greatest care, and
expended for me all his medical science; for I had then been several
months suffering from the malady which afterwards obliged me to return
to France to recruit.
He left us to go to Battambong to M. Silvestre, and at the parting we
experienced the deepest regret at losing the society of a friend who
had so much cheered our solitude. From Battambong he was to return to
Siam, and thence to Birmah, Bengal, and Europe. I wrote to him several
times, both from Bangkok, from Pinhalú, and from Singapore, where my
illness had induced me to go to consult an English physician; but M.
Mouhot had changed his plans; he wished to explore Laos, a country
whose climate is always so fatal to foreigners. There God saw fit
to summon him to a better world. This I read with great sorrow in a
Parisian newspaper; it was an extract from a London journal.
When I was abroad I heard of the death of my father, then of that of
my mother, and I declare that these two announcements did not make
more impression upon me than did the news of the death of a man whose
equal I had not met with for twenty years; and the thought of his
death, without any help but that of his servants during his illness
and in his last moments, was more than enough to bring tears to my
eyes as I remembered this good and benevolent friend. Be assured, dear
Sir, that my feelings are shared by all the brothers who knew him. The
natives themselves must have felt regret at his death; for all who knew
him had only praises to repeat of his conduct towards them; and all
acknowledged his gentleness and generosity--both qualities invaluable
in the eyes of those people.
Permit me, then, dear Sir, to unite my regrets to your grief, and to
present my respects to Madame Mouhot, together with my warmest sympathy
with her in her affliction; also with your father and your wife.
Receive my thanks for your having honoured me with your friendship; and
be assured of my desire to be useful to you if ever it should lie in my
power.
MARIE CH. FONTAINE,
Missionary at Saigon, Cochin China.
P.S.--Twelve of us are about to set out for Indo-China, and I will not
fail to express to Mgr. Miche and his companions the kind feelings
which you express with regard to them. On the 20th we shall sail from
Marseilles in the _Hydaspe_. Write to the Seminary of Foreign Missions,
whence our correspondence will be forwarded to us. My family live at
Laval, and you will be always welcome there.
FROM MR. SAMUEL STEVENS TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.
MR. STEVENS has the honour to inform M. C. Mouhot that the collection
made by his late brother in the mountains of Laos is very fine,
particularly the insects and shells. Among the former are a great
number of beautiful and new species, one of which, a splendid Carabus,
has been described in the ‘Zoological Review’ at Paris, under the name
of Mouhotia gloriosa, in compliment to the late lamented M. Mouhot.
This name is very appropriate, as it is one of the most beautiful
and remarkable beetles which has been seen for years. There is also
a beautiful set of Longicorns, and other insects of the order of
Coleoptera, of which a great number are new to science.
The land and fresh-water shells are also very beautiful. Among the
former there are twenty-five different genera; eight or ten are quite
new, and some of them very remarkable. They will shortly be described
by Dr. Pfeiffer and others.
I can truly say that the insects and shells equal, if they do not
surpass, the most beautiful collections I have ever received; and
clearly demonstrate how rich a country for the naturalist lies between
Siam and Cochin China.
There is also a small collection of birds and some monkeys, small
animals, reptiles, and serpents in spirits, of which some are quite new.
The collection of insects and shells made in Cambodia was also very
beautiful, and contained the large and fine _Helix Cambojiensis_, one
of the best and most beautiful specimens known; also, the _Bulimus
Cambojiensis_, and a splendid _Buprestida_, new and unique, besides a
great number of others, new to science.[13]
[13] M. Mouhot, in his letters to his family, always spoke with the
highest esteem of Mr. Stevens, to whom they now beg to offer their
thanks for the honourable manner in which he has conducted everything
connected with their unfortunate relative.
FROM M. MALHERBE TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.
Bangkok, Nov. 1862.
DEAR SIR,
On my return from Java a few days ago, I found waiting for me your kind
letter, for which I thank you, although I should have wished to make
your acquaintance under happier circumstances. All consolation from me,
I know, would be ineffectual. The friendship I felt for your brother
was not that of a stranger, but rather as though he were a member of my
family; and I felt most painfully the news which met me on my return,
of his death so far away: for I had been pleasing myself with the idea
of his return, and long before my arrival here had given orders for his
reception, and that he should be welcomed as though I were present.
One great consolation to the survivors is the feeling of how much he
is regretted; here he had not a single enemy, but every one spoke of
him as the best of men. I vainly tried to dissuade him from undertaking
this dangerous expedition, for I had already lost a dear friend in that
country. He was treacherously assassinated there by his boatmen.
I am much pleased with the frank manner in which you offer me your
friendship. I thank you, and accept it with all my heart.
PAPER READ AT THE ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY,
10TH MARCH, 1862.
LORD ASHBURTON, PRESIDENT.
M. Mouhot traversed Cambodia from east to west, and also ascended
the Mekon river to the frontier of Laos. He returned to the coast by
crossing the water-parting between it and the basin of the Menam river,
and descending to Bangkok.
The Mekon is a vast melancholy-looking river, three miles broad,
covered with islands, and flowing with the rapidity of a torrent.
Its shores are covered with aquatic birds, but its waters are almost
deserted by canoes.[14] A plain covered with coarse herbage separates
it from the forest by which Cambodia is overspread, and which can
rarely be traversed except by cutting a way. That forest is exceedingly
unhealthy.
[14] The war in Cochin China has prevented many of the Annamite
fishermen from coming down the Mekon to fish in the great lake, which
is one cause of its desertion.
M. Mouhot reached Brelum, a village in lat. 11° 58′, long. 107° 12′,
inhabited by a secluded race of wild people, whose customs are minutely
described, differing in features from the Cambodian and Laos tribes,
and forming one of a series of similar groups widely distributed in the
less accessible parts of Cochin China, Cambodia, and Burmah. They are
believed by M. Mouhot to be the aborigines of the land. Two Catholic
missionaries were resident at Brelum.
Subsequently the author visited the large Buddhist ruins of Ongcor, of
which he has brought back numerous sketches. He speaks of the mineral
wealth of Cambodia--its iron, gold, lead, and copper. In the islands
of Phu-Quoc or Koh Tron, belonging to Cochin China and near to Komput,
there are rich mines of coal, similar to our Cannel coal, from which
ornaments are made. Several extinct volcanoes exist in Pechaburi, of
heights not exceeding 2000 feet above the sea-level, and there are two
active ones in an island called Ko-man, lat. 12° 30′, long. 101° 50′,
in the Gulf of Siam.
Dr. Hodgkin stated that, besides the two letters, portions of which had
been read, and the drawings and charts, M. Mouhot had likewise sent an
elaborate description of the ruins which he found at Ongcor and in its
vicinity. The plans on the table would give some idea of the magnitude
of these ruins. A great part of the manuscript which accompanied them
described their structure and workmanship. They were constructed
chiefly of granite, and many of the stones were not only of very large
size, but were elaborately carved. The workmanship of some of them was
described as exquisite, and the designs not so deficient in artistic
taste as one might suppose. Many of them represented imaginary animals,
such as serpents with many heads; others, beasts of burden--horses,
elephants, and bullocks. These temples were situated in a district
which was now completely imbedded in a forest very difficult of access,
and were so much in ruins that trees were growing on the roofs, and
many of the galleries were in a state of great decay. The base and a
large portion of the elevation were constructed of a ferruginous rock,
but for the upper part blocks of granite were used--so exquisitely
cut as to require no mortar to fill the interstices, and carved with
relievos relating to mythological subjects indicative of Buddhism. M.
Mouhot had copied some of the inscriptions, which from their antiquity
the natives who accompanied him were unable to read. The characters so
nearly resembled the Siamese that Dr. H. had no doubt that a skilful
archæologist would have very little difficulty in deciphering them. He
believed that the remains in question would be found equal in value to
those which had recently been explored in Central America; and he felt
convinced that when the descriptions were published, M. Mouhot would be
thought deserving of great respect.
Mr. Crawfurd said it was about forty years since he visited the
country, but his recollection of it continued vivid to this day.
Most people knew very little about Cambodia; its very name was only
familiar to us in that of its product, gamboge, which word was nothing
else than a corruption of Cambodia. It was one of five or six states
lying between India and China, whose inhabitants had lived under a
second or third-rate civilisation at all times--never equal, whether
physically, morally, or intellectually, to the Chinese, or even the
Hindoos. At the present time Cambodia was a poor little state, having
been encroached upon by the Siamese to the north, and by Cochin China
to the south. M. Mouhot had given us an account of a country that no
European had ever visited before. With respect to that gentleman’s
belief that certain wild tribes whom he described had descended from
Thibet, he (Mr. Crawfurd) believed that his ethnology was at fault. For
his part, he believed these wild people to be no other than natives
of the country--mere mountaineers, who had escaped from the bondage,
and hence from the civilisation, of the plain. Such people existed in
Hindoostan, in Siam, in the Burmese empire, in Cochin China, and in
China itself--in fact, they were of no distinct origin, but simply the
natives in a rude, savage, uncivilised state.
With respect to the French, he did not know on what grounds they had
gone to Cambodia. They had obtained possession of one spot which was
eminently fitted for a settlement. The finest river in all India,
as far as European shipping was concerned, was the river at Saigon,
which he had himself ascended about 14 miles, and found it navigable
even for an old “seventy-four.” He believed it was the intention of
the French to attempt the conquest of the whole of Cochin China. If
they effected it, and occupied it, they would find it a monstrous
difficulty. It would prove another Algeria, with the additional
disadvantage of being 15,000 miles off instead of 500, and within the
torrid instead of the temperate zone. The climate was very hot, the
country was covered with forests, the malaria and the heat rendered it
unsuitable for the European constitution. If they made an advance upon
the Cochin Chinese capital, they would find the enterprise one of great
difficulty. From Saigon to the northern confines of Cochin China the
distance is 1500 miles, and the capital itself could not be less than
700 or 800 miles from Saigon, situated on a small river navigable only
for large boats, with a narrow mouth, and two considerable fortresses,
one on each side, at its mouth. When they arrived, they would find
one of the largest and most regular fortifications in the East. He
believed it was the most regular, after Fort William in Bengal, and a
great deal larger than Fort William. It was constructed by the French,
and now they will have considerable difficulty in conquering their own
work. The French had a perfect right to be in Cochin China, and their
being there would do no harm, but rather good, however questionable the
benefit to themselves; for their presence amounted to the substitution
of a friendly and civilised power for a rude and inhospitable one.
The drawings on the table were exceedingly curious and interesting;
they were admirably done, and exhibited representations of some
remarkable monuments, evidently of Buddhist origin. They reminded him
very much, though inferior in quality and beauty, of the monuments
of the island of Java. He never heard of volcanoes when he was in
Cambodia, but he had no doubt M. Mouhot’s information was correct,
though it appeared he did not describe them from his own personal
experience. He would add a word upon the alphabets which were on the
table. The Cambodians had invented a written phonetic character, which
they used at the present time; therefore there could be no difficulty
in understanding a Cambodian manuscript. But there were several of
those now exhibited which were of more or less antiquity. One of them
seemed to be the alphabet which was used by the Cambodians in their
religious rites. The figure of Buddha showed that the Cambodians were
worshippers of Buddha.
TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.
Montbéliard,[15] 13th June, 1862.
[15] Montbéliard is the birthplace of Cuvier and of Laurillard.
LETTER TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.
The members of the “Société d’Émulation” at Montbéliard desire to
express the deep regret which they have experienced at the premature
death of their fellow-townsman M. Henri Mouhot. After a three years’
journey in Cambodia and Siam, during which he devoted himself to
researches which have been highly appreciated by the Geographical and
Zoological Societies of London, he fell a victim at the early age of
thirty-five to his love of science. His work remained unfinished, but
it was gloriously commenced, and his name will not perish. The regret
experienced by his friends is the greater from their conviction that
had he lived he would have been still more an honour to his native
town, and that the name of Mouhot would have ranked side by side with
those illustrious ones which have already rendered Montbéliard famous
in the department of Natural Science.
THE END.
LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET, AND
CHARING CROSS.
[Illustration:
Map of
CAMBODIA, THE LAO COUNTRY &c.
_to illustrate the_
Route and Notes of
M. Henri Mouhot.
1859-61.
_Pub^d for the Journal of the Royal Geographical Soc^y. by J. Murray,
Albemarle Str^t. London, 1862._
_NB. This Map is used by Permission of the R. G. Soc^y. to illustrate
M. Mouhot’s Travels in Cambodia, &c.]
* * * * *
Transcriber's Note
Page headers have been converted to headings.
The following apparent errors have been corrected:
p. 38 "ever" changed to "every"
(Illustration facing p. 60) "Therond" changed to "Thérond"
p. 71 "Therond" changed to "Thérond"
p. 92 "enoguh" changed to "enough"
p. 110 "oxen," changed to "oxen."
p. 113 "caravans" changed to "caravans."
p. 116 "thos" changed to "those"
p. 198 "call and see." changed to "call and see.”"
p. 199 "wife who" changed to "wife, who"
Other variant spellings and inconsistent punctuation have been left as
printed.
p. 181 The fraction "16- /3" is incomplete in the printed book.
p. 239 The translations for "horse" and "goat" are identical.