THE GREAT BAZAAR OF CAMBODIA, PENOM-PEUH--THE RIVER MEKON--THE ISLAND
KO-SUTIN--PEMPTIÉLAN--PUMP-KA-DAYE, ON THE BORDERS OF CAMBODIA--SOME
FURTHER NOTES ON THE COUNTRY--FATHER GUILLOUX--JOURNEY TO BRELUM AND
THE NEIGHBOURING COUNTRY INHABITED BY THE SAVAGE STIÊNS.
We left Pinhalú at eleven, and by evening had reached the great bazaar
of Cambodia, the distance being about eighteen miles. I had little to
buy, for M. Miche and M. Arnoux had insisted on filling my boat with
rice and dried fish, sufficient to last not only for my voyage but
during the whole period I proposed to remain among the Stiêns.
BAZAAR OF CAMBODIA.
I stopped a whole day to see the city, and make a few purchases of
glass, brass wire, and cotton yarn, articles which would be useful as
barter among the savages. The town is situated at the confluence of
two great streams, and contains about 10,000 inhabitants, almost all
Chinese; but it has a floating population of more than double that
number, composed of Cambodians and Cochin-Chinese, living in their
boats. It was the time when most of the fishermen, returning from the
great lake, stop at Penom-Peuh to sell part of their fish, and when a
crowd of small merchants flock there to buy cotton, which is gathered
in before the rains. Having traversed the city, which was long and
dirty, I arrived at an eminence on which was built a pagoda, possessing
neither beauty nor interest, but from whence there is an extensive view
over a large tract of country.
On one side extend, like two long and wide ribands, across an immense
wooded plain, the Mekon and its tributary; on the other, another plain
and thick forest, bounded on the north-west and south by small chains
of mountains.
Although the missionaries often pass through Penom-Peuh, my presence
excited much curiosity among the people. The war in Cochin-China was
the subject of all conversations, and in every one’s thoughts. The
reports of the Chinese and Annamites who had seen the taking of the
town of Saigou were not flattering to the pride of a Frenchman. I
had not seen the glorious bulletins of our Admiral, but had the pain
of hearing our enemies stigmatise us as barbarians, and, describing
the burning of the market, and the conduct of the soldiery towards
defenceless women, speak of it as “the behaviour of savages.” Thus the
evil deeds of a less civilized ally were visited upon us, and our whole
nation judged of by isolated acts, all but inevitable in time of war,
especially in a country where the soldier suffers from the climate and
privations of all kinds.
The people, perhaps the most corrupted in all the East, expected
to find in us men superior, morally, as well as intellectually and
physically; and I dare to flatter myself that before long they will
learn to distinguish between the characters of the true French soldiers
and their allies, and that in every respect we shall recover our
ancient prestige.
The next day, descending the river toward the southern extremity of the
city, we passed a floating town, composed of more than 500 boats, most
of them of large size. They serve as an entrepôt for some merchants,
and residences for others. All their money and the greater part of
their merchandize is here kept, that, in case of alarm, they may be
ready to take flight at a moment’s warning.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M Sabatier, from a Sketch by M. Mouhot.
THE RIVER MEKON AT PENOM-PEUH.]
THE MEKON.
Shortly afterwards we entered the Mekon, which was only now beginning
to rise, as, throughout the country the drought had been excessive,
lasting much longer than usual. This great river, the name of which
signifies “Mother of Rivers,” recalled to my mind the Menam, north
of Bangkok, but its aspect is less gay; yet there is something very
imposing in this expanse of water running with all the rapidity of
a torrent. A few boats, scarcely distinguishable, toiled along: the
banks, generally about 18 or 20 feet high, seemed almost deserted; and
the forests were indistinctly discernible more than a mile beyond.
In Siam the elegant foliage of the bamboos and palm-trees shows out
strikingly against the blue sky, while the songs of the birds charm the
ear: here, shoals of porpoises sail along with their noses to the wind,
frequently bounding out of the water; pelicans sport on the margins of
the stream, and herons and storks fly silently from among the reeds
at our approach. These are the sole objects of interest.
We passed the great island of Ko-Sutin, which is distant about 40 miles
from Penom-Peuh, after five days’ difficult and laborious travelling.
The current was so strong that at every turn in the stream we were
obliged, in addition to redoubling our efforts at the oars, to hold on
by the reeds to prevent our being carried away.
The farther north we went the more rapidly the stream ran; so that when
the waters are high two miles a day are the usual rate of progress;
and it is a common occurrence for the boatmen to seek fuel for their
evening fire in the same spot where they had cooked their rice in the
morning.
About 25 or 30 leagues north of Ko-Sutin, on the confines of Laos,
commence the rapids and cataracts: it is then necessary to leave the
boats and take to pirogues, which, as well as the luggage, have often
to be carried on men’s backs. I made a halt of only a few hours, in
order to see another voluntary exile, M. Cordier, a priest of great
worth, from the Cambodian mission, who resides here.
M. CORDIER THE MISSIONARY.
I felt great compassion for this good man, on entering the chapel which
he had built, and seeing the poverty and nakedness around. He came to
meet me, and invited me to share his repast. For the last three years
the poor missionary has been suffering from a dysentery, which has
become chronic. However, he complains neither of his bad health nor
of his poverty: the only thing that grieved him was the small number
of converts he was called on to baptize, so deeply are the Cambodians
attached to their idols.
ANTICIPATED PERILS.
“But you,” said he to me; “do you know whither you are going? I am
astonished that they allowed you to leave Pinhalú. Ask the Cambodians
what they think of the forests of the Stiêns, and propose to some of
them to accompany you: you would not find one. The rains have begun,
and you are going to almost certain death, or will at least catch a
fever, which will be followed by years of languor and suffering. I have
had the jungle fever, and it is something terrible: even to the tips of
my nails I felt a heat which I can only call infernal: sometimes an icy
coldness would take its place: generally people sink under it: witness
M. Lafitte, a young missionary, who a short time ago took the same
journey; M. Comte, who died of exhaustion; and many others.”
This account was not reassuring, nevertheless I had determined on my
route: I knew that I should find there land and fresh-water shells
which I could find nowhere else,[18] and that this tribe of almost
unknown savages would afford me a curious and interesting study; and
these considerations were sufficient to determine me to proceed. I
trusted in God, and went on my way, M. Cordier’s last words being, “May
God be with the poor traveller!”
[18] Thence come the beautiful Bulimus Cambogiensis, Ptelin
Cambogiensis, and Ptelin Mouhoti.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Sabatier, from a Sketch by M. Mouhot.
CAMBODIAN HUT AT PEMPTIELAN, ON THE MEKON.]
Twelve miles higher up I left the river, and set off on my land journey
at two o’clock in the afternoon, hoping to arrive the same day at
Pemptiélan, a large village, where lived the mandarin to whom the
king’s letter was addressed. We did not, however, get there till eleven
the next morning, having to pass the night at the foot of a tree, where
we lighted a fire. I waited at once upon the mandarin, who is governor
of the district, and he received me very well, in spite of the small
value of the presents I made him, and immediately gave orders for
waggons to be made ready for me. He then presented me with a quantity
of tobacco and betel. His manners were, for a Cambodian, gentle and
polished; and he questioned me much as to the war in Cochin-China, as
well as about Europe, how long it took to get there, &c.
DIFFICULTIES OF THE JOURNEY.
From the time we left Pemptiélan we had, except at rare intervals, to
pass through dense forests, and at first the ground was so marshy that
our miserable waggons occasionally sank deeply; and it required the
united strength of the oxen and all our men to extricate them. We got
over the latter part of our route more agreeably; for, as we reached a
higher elevation, the ground became dry, and the aspect of the country
more varied.
We had only been able to accomplish 60 miles in five days, and were
still 30 miles from Brelum. I grew tired of the incivility of the
inhabitants from whom I hired the oxen, and of the slowness of these
animals: when we had no shelter for the night, we suffered much from
rain and damp; our clothes were almost always soaked through; and, to
crown our misfortunes, my two servants were attacked with intermittent
fever; the Annamite particularly, who had a tertian fever, lasting for
ten days.
The mode of life of the Cambodians is similar to that of the Siamese:
rice, as with the latter, is the chief part of their food: they eat it
with vegetables, such as pumpkins or gourds, and wild potatoes. Those
in better circumstances add to it fish, but rarely meat; and yet the
country is as fertile as Lower Cochin-China, the soil of which yields
so abundant a return for all that is put in the ground.
The poverty of the inhabitants of these miserable villages engenders
a repulsive dirtiness: a strip of matting or an old filthy cushion
thrown on the ground, and full of vermin, some basins of coarse Chinese
porcelain, a sort of hatchet, and a piece of cotton, intended either
for counterpane, scarf, or cloak, according to the season and time of
day, are the usual contents of a Cambodian hut.[19]
[19] Cambodian is pronounced “Khmer,” in the language of the country.
PUMP-KA-DAYE.
We arrived at Pump-Ka-Daye, on the confines of Cambodia, and inhabited
by about twenty Stiêns, who have approached the boundary in order to
escape slavery in their own tribe. Our waggons halted before a small
caravanserai, open to every wind; and after having carried in our
luggage, our guides disappeared much faster than they had come. The
chief soon presented himself, followed by some men: he had all the
characteristics of a savage in his face, and of a Cambodian in his
nature. I handed him my letter, but he returned it, saying that he
could not read. “These, then,” said I, “are the contents. It is the
king’s order to all chiefs of villages where I shall stop to furnish me
with waggons to continue my journey to Brelum.” “We have no waggons,”
was the answer.
ASSISTANCE FROM M. GUILLOUX.
We made ourselves as comfortable as we could till the next day, when
a second interview with the chief proved to me that I should get no
aid from him. I therefore sent Niou with two Cambodians to carry a
letter to M. Guilloux, and bring me an answer. This arrived on the
evening of the fourth day; and in it M. Guilloux assured me of a
cordial welcome, adding that he was interested in my undertaking, and
had already a great regard for me, without seeing me, for my courage
in coming so far.[20] The good father sent me three waggons from the
mission settlement, and some of his Annamites, as well as two Stiêns,
to help me on my way. This letter completely removed all fear of being
a troublesome and unwelcome guest to the poor hermit, and I set out
with pleasure and confidence. It took us two long days’ journey to
reach Brelum: we encamped one night near a torrent, lying on our mats
beside a good fire, which we lighted to keep off the ferocious denizens
of these forests. The second night we passed in a deserted cabin some
miles from Brelum; and on the 16th August, at nine in the morning, we
came to a clearing of from 250 to 300 metres square. We were betwixt
two hills, at the foot of which was marshy ground. On the slope of
one I saw two long bamboo houses, covered with thatch, and with the
mission-garden attached: higher up was the cross planted two years
before amidst these frightful solitudes by the noble and courageous
French missionaries.
[20] See M. Guilloux’s letter in the Appendix.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Sabatier, from a Sketch by M. Mouhot.
CAMBODIAN HOUSE.]
APPROACH TO BRELUM.
FATHER GUILLOUX.
Scarcely had we appeared when we were saluted by a discharge of
musketry. We replied as well as we could; and while these sounds were
reverberating among the echoes of the forests, poor Father Guilloux,
his legs covered with bad wounds, which had confined him for above
six months to his mattrass, and which he had received on the journeys
undertaken through the promptings of his pious zeal, advanced with
frail steps to meet me along the tree-trunks thrown as a bridge across
the swamp. All honour to thee, noble son of our dear and beautiful
country!--thou who bravest poverty, privations, fatigue, suffering, and
even death, to bring to these savages the blessings of religion and
civilization! May God recompense thee for thy painful and self-denying
labours, for men would be powerless to do so; thy reward is not of this
world. Besides, in these troublous and warlike times, the virtues of
the soldier are more appreciated than thine. But continue thy divine
work; intelligent eyes and hearts watch from afar; and if, in our
day, the military career is more honoured and better recompensed than
any other, there are still, be sure, Christian hearts which feel it
a duty to make known to the world thy virtue and thy sufferings, thy
privations, and the benefits thou conferrest on these unfortunates.