botanist would attempt to describe. Colour is given to this fringe by
the magenta bougainvillea, the red hibiscus, the pale blue convolvulus,
the variegated crotons, and the orange and red of the lantana, and at
places the poinsettia provides a predominating red head to the
hedge-like greenery. Palms and tree ferns and feathery clumps of young
bamboo are called to aid by Nature's landscape gardener; but they do not
shut out the verdure-clad ravines that mark a waterway or the terraced
rice-fields which climb almost to the top of the highest summits.
We thought we had seen the acme of perfection in rice cultivation and
irrigation in China and Japan. But here in Java, we have seen more to
excite the admiration in this respect than in either of these countries.
One can only marvel at the completeness of the system of irrigation.
Rice is in all stages of cultivation, from the flooded paddy field to
the grain in the ear being reaped by the gaily coloured butterflies of
women. Water buffaloes drag a primitive plough through the drenched
soil, while the bright-faced young ploughboy, by what appears to be a
superhuman effort, balances himself precariously on the implement.
On the left, we pass tea gardens, the tufty bushes low to the ground.
What strikes us first is the amazing regularity of the rows and the
cleanness of the ground. An aroma of tea in the making escapes from the
roadside factory and agreeably assails our sense of smell as we jolt
past in our kreta.
We reached Kampong Toegoe at nine o'clock, refreshed both men and
beasts, and harnessed two more ponies with long rope traces to help us
to the summit of the Pass, which was reached at eleven o'clock. Here we
made a deviation on foot to the Telega Warna (Colour-changing Lake)
while the ponies rested for the downward journey. The path is a
difficult one, and the lake itself is less interesting than the lovely
vegetation by which it is surrounded. Ferns and bracken cover the
hillside, pollipods predominating, orchids cling to tree stems, and
higher up, the curious nest-fern and various forms of plant life attract
attention. Tree is woven to tree by a network of mighty lianas.
The lake itself lies in what must have been the crater in the
prehistoric period of activity of Megamendoeng. It is 100 metres in
width, circular in shape, and about 100 fathoms deep. Fish are found in
the lake, and they are regarded with veneration by the natives.
The steepness of the heavily wooded wall that rises hundreds of feet
sheer round three sides reminds one of the geyser-studded old crater of
Unzen, in the island of Kyushiu in Japan, "Its gleaming mirror," the
guide book says, "exhibits a wonderful luxury of tints and colours,
shifting and changing whenever the gentle mountain breeze ruffles the
smooth surface." We did not stay a sufficiently long time to experience
any wonderful changes on the lake itself, but the surroundings are
loaded with charm. The visitor to Sindanglaya should certainly not
neglect to make the trip to the lake. We would recommend an excursion on
foot from the hotel.
Once over the Pass, the view on the other side of the large basin-shaped
plateau in which Sindanglaya lies is more attractive than on the
Buitenzorg side, and, as we were to find on the following morning, a
better idea is obtained of the wonderful industry of the people, and the
remarkable extent to which the cultivation of the mountain slopes is
carried on by them.
Sindanglaya and Beyond.
We had not gone far on our travels before we realised the
presumptuousness of our attempt to "do" Java in a fortnight. It would
require weeks to drink in all the subtle beauties and influences of
Buitenzorg, to get the atmosphere of the place; and to derive the
fullest measure of benefit and enjoyment from the visit to Sindanglaya,
one would require at least a fortnight.
It will ever be matter for regret that we were unable to devote more
time to the beauty spots of Western Java or to make the various
interesting and health-giving excursions from Sindanglaya's comfortable
hotel. We have already said that the ride over the Poentjak Pass should
be avoided and the train taken from Buitenzorg to Tjiandjoer. The train
leaving Batavia (Weltervreden Station) at 7.25 a.m. and Buitenzorg at
8.44 reaches Tjiandjoer at 12.04. Here, if a carriage has been ordered
in advance, a representative of the Sindanglaya establishment meets
passengers, and the journey to the hotel is negotiated in two hours at a
cost of two and a-half guilders. From Buitenzorg to Sindanglaya the hire
of a carriage for passenger and baggage is nine guilders; from
Sindanglaya to Buitenzorg it costs seven guilders. The train fare from
Batavia to Buitenzorg is three guilders for first-class and two guilders
for second; from Batavia to Tjiandjoer, it is eight guilders first-class
and four guilders and seventy-five cents second.
The hotel, which consists of one main building with a number of small
detached pavilions surrounded by roses and other flowers of the
temperate zone, is situated on the slopes of the Gedéh, and is 3,300
feet above sea level. At this level one is able to move about long
distances during the day without becoming exhausted, and in the evening
the air is delightfully cool, falling just below 70 degrees the night we
slept there. There is a tennis court, and the manager spoke of laying
down another, and with billiards and skittles in the evening and a hot
spring swimming bath, near the Governor-General's villa, for healthful
recreation in the daytime, one need not feel too much the absence of
city life and companionship. The tariff is the moderate one of six
guilders a day, but it is reduced to five guilders per day when a stay
of a week or more is made.
The Governor-General's summer residence, Tjipanas, is here, a quarter of
a mile from the hotel. It is a prettily situated bungalow residence,
standing quite close to the main road from Tjiandjoer, and surrounded by
a garden which transports one at once to the south of England. Here, as
in many other places in Java, the notice appears: "Verbodden Toegang;"
but a courteous application to the Steward in charge obtains a hearty
welcome to inspect the grounds. These are well stocked with dahlias,
roses, hortensias, begonias, cowslips, sweet williams, wall-flower, and
other old-fashioned flowers, and the bloom-covered fuschias carried
one's thoughts back to pleasant days spent in Devonshire dales. From the
lawns sweet-smelling violets perfumed the air. Matchless orchids clung
to the trees, and the delicate maiden-hair fern held its own with the
hardier varieties. Dusky fir-trees, groups of Australian araucarias, and
Japanese oak trees and chestnuts set off the brightness of the flower
beds. In the park there is a beautiful pond, from the centre of which a
fountain throws a crystal spray to catch the sun's rays and dispense a
wealth of glittering diamonds.
Hot water is the literal meaning of Tjipanas, and a hot spring in the
vicinity of the villa supplies the bath-rooms, as well as the swimming
bath of the Sanatorium.
There is a fine view from the villa, but a better prospect is obtained
from Goenoeng Kasoer, some hundreds of feet higher, where a former
Governor-General often took his ontbijtberg (or breakfast). It is now
known as Breakfast Hill. A silver mine in the neighbourhood was worked
for a time by the John Company.
The mountain garden of Tjibodas, mentioned in a previous article, is
well worth a visit. A good walker, starting at six o'clock, can go
there, breakfast and be back at the hotel by noon. But the excursion to
be taken by everyone who stays at Sindanglaya for any length of time is
to the falls at Tjibeureum, Kandang Badak and the crater of the Gedéh.
Ladies may make the trip in sedan chairs; gentlemen on foot or on
horseback. The falls of Tjibeureum consist of three cataracts, falling
400 feet down a perpendicular crag, and the winding road passes through
some interesting jungle scenery.
From Tjibeureum, the path winds up a steep ascent, and through a narrow
cleft in the rocks, a natural gateway to which the natives have attached
some wonderful legends. Hot springs break through the mountain crust and
run side by side with crystal-pure cold brooks, as is often the case on
the mountains in Japan.
After a two and a half hours' climb from Tjibeureum, Kadang Badak (or
Rhinoceros Kraal) is reached. It lies almost half way up the saddle
which connects the Gedéh with the Pangerango, and although there are now
no traces of pachyderms, it is stated that both this place and the
Telega Warna were favourite haunts of the rhinoceros not so very many
years ago. It is recommended that the climbers should spend the night in
the hut here, and ascend the Pangerango (9,500 ft.) at 4 a.m. to see
the sun rise. From the top the view is magnificent.
Along a steep and difficult mountain path, the crater of the Gedéh may
be reached in an hour and a half, and the sight of the gigantic crater
of this majestic volcano is said to be overwhelming and ample
compensation for the toilsome ascent. It is about two miles distant from
the Pangerango, and forms the still active part of the twin volcano.
Between 1761 and 1832 no eruptions occurred, but seven took place in the
twenty years following, the most terrible and severe being the eruption
of 1840. There were again terrible eruptions in 1886 and 1899, when the
volcano covered the hillsides with huge stones, one over 150 kilogrammes
in weight landing three-quarters of a mile away.
There are several places in the Preanger Region where the visitor may
elect to stay instead of Sindanglaya, such as Soekaboemi (2,100 ft.)
which has the advantage of being on the railway, Bandoeng and Garoet.
All have their own attractions for invalids, and the hotel accommodation
is spoken of in terms of the highest praise by all who have been there.
When we drove away from Sindanglaya at seven o'clock on the following
morning, the white crater wall of the Gedéh stood out like a huge lump
of marble in the morning sun.
Our route lay through tea, coffee and cocoa plantations, and richly
cultivated country to Tjiandjoer--a thriving little mountain town, with
an air of prosperity and progress,--where we joined the train at 9.30
a.m. for Padalarang. Here, at 11.10 a.m., a change was made to the
express from Batavia, and Maos was reached at 5.46 p.m. It had been our
intention to stay overnight at Bandoeng, strongly recommended by Mr.
Gantvoort, the courteous manager of the Hotel des Indes in Batavia, but
we pressed on with the intention of devoting more time to the eastern
end of the island. It was well we did so, for, shortly after leaving
Padalarang, rain began to fall in torrents, and the afternoon and night
were passed in a severe thunderstorm which was to cause us delay. Part
of the line was washed away near Moentilan, and our train was over three
hours late in reaching Djocjakarta on the following day.
At Maos, there is a commodious, well-built, comfortable passagrahan or
government rest-house, where four of us ate our meal in solemn silence,
until a query by ourselves when the coffee arrived broke the icy reserve
of the quartette, and opened the way for an interesting conversation.
It is customary to make fun of English reserve, but our observation
convinced us that the Dutch are no whit behind us in that respect where
fellow-Dutch are concerned. On the other hand, nothing could have
exceeded the kindness and courtesy with which we were treated from one
end of Java to the other. Speaking no Dutch, we had looked forward to
many tedious days, but our fears were needless, for, wherever we went,
we met pleasant English-speaking Dutchmen, who proved the most
entertaining of companions, and we take this opportunity of
acknowledging the courteous assistance we received from time to time. On
the score of not speaking Dutch or Malay, no English man or woman need
be deterred from visiting Java. English is spoken at all the hotels, and
though all the train conductors and stationmasters may not do so, there
is sure to be an educated Dutchman or lady in the car to whom one may
turn for help, which is always readily given.
On one occasion, we had an interesting conversation with two native
officials attached to the staff of the Sultan at Djocjakarta. These men
had never left the island of Java, yet one of them read and spoke
English with ready fluency and perfect accent.
Next day, in spite of the delay caused by the wash-out on the line, we
were able to reach Djocjakarta by tiffin time, and devoted the afternoon
to the Hindu ruins at Parambanan.
[Illustration: THE BARA BUDUR.]
Hindu Ruins in Central Java.
A visit to Java would be incomplete did it not include a pilgrimage to
the marvellous products of religious fervour which Buddhism reared in
the plains around Djocjakarta before it went down before the
all-conquering onslaught of Moslemism. These ruins testify to an ancient
art and civilisation and culture and an instinct of creation few are
aware of to-day, and it is hard to resist the temptation to indulge in
extravagant language when attempting to describe them as they now stand,
partially restored by the Dutch authorities.
Miss Scidmore has lavished the wealth of her luxuriant vocabulary upon
them, but neither she, nor any of her predecessors in the work of
praise, saw them as they stand to-day--a wonder alike to archaeologist,
architect, artist and student of comparative religions. Here in the
centre of fertile plains we have the real Java of ancient times.
The Dutch had been in possession of the island for two hundred years
without discovering the rich deposits hidden beneath the accumulated
mounds of centuries and buried under a mass of tropical vegetation. To
the active mind of Sir Stamford Raffles the discovery was due. He went
to Java as Lieutenant-Governor in 1811, and during the period it was
under his control, he had the mounds explored, the ruined temples
un-earthed and their historic import co-related with the romantic
legends and poetic records rescued from the archives of the native
princes. It was due to the investigations of this great Englishman that
the date of the construction of the temples was fixed at the beginning
of the seventh century of the Christian era, and subsequent
investigators (prominent amongst whom must be placed Dr. I. Groneman,
now and for many years resident of Djocjakarta and Honorary President of
its Archaeological Society) agree in accepting this period as
authentically proved from the ruins themselves.
[Illustration]
Sir Stamford was of opinion that the temples, as works of labour and
art, dwarf to nothing all wonder and admiration at the great pyramids of
Egypt; but since his time, it must not be forgotten, much richer
discoveries in ancient art and archæological lore have been made in
Egypt and Palestine. Alfred Russell Wallace, Brumund, Fergusson, all
join in the chorus of praise, and the latter, in his "History of Indian
and Eastern Architecture," expresses the opinion that the Boro Budur is
the highest development of Buddhist art, an epitome of all its arts and
ritual, and the culmination of the architectural style, which,
originating at Barhut a thousand years before--that is more than
twenty-one centuries ago--had begun to decay in India at the time the
colonists were erecting this masterpiece of the ages in the heart of
Java.
[Illustration]
To reach the Boro Budur, one takes the steam tram from Djocja to
Moentilan. There a dog-cart may be hired for three guilders, and, taking
the Temple or Tjandi of Mendoet on the way, the Boro Budur may be
reached in an hour and a half from Moentilan. Miss Scidmore was able to
write with her customary enthusiasm about this road; but, truth to tell,
we found the drive far from pleasant. Until one gets within a quarter of
a mile of the ruins, the surface is bad and some of the small bridges so
dangerous that we dismounted at the driver's request. The dog-cart,
also, is far from an agreeable vehicle in which to travel, and if a
better carriage could be found we would advise its being hired.
Wherever one goes in Java, the public vehicles are in a state of decay,
far more disreputable than the gharry of Singapore, and a large number
of the ponies are decrepit and suffering from open sores. If Java is to
become a tourist country the vehicles should be better supervised.
Before setting out from Djocjakarta, the visitor should get the hotel
proprietor to communicate with the stationmaster at Moentilan, with the
object of having a more comfortable carriage than fell to our unhappy
lot through leaving the matter to haphazard.
Strictly speaking, the Boro Budur--which means the collection of
Buddas--is not a building in the sense that we speak of St. Paul's or
St. Peter's. A small hill has been cut down and the earthwork surrounded
by masonry, uncemented, unjointed, layer upon layer, and there is no
column, pillar, or true arch. It is supposed that it was built by some
of the first Buddhist settlers from India as the resting place (dagaba)
of one of the urns containing a portion of the ashes of Buddha.
[Illustration: BAS RELIEF--BARA BUDUR.]
[Illustration: BAS RELIEF--BARA BUDUR.]
It is difficult to describe it briefly, but the following extract from
Miss Scidmore's book seems to us to convey the best idea of the
structure in general terms:--
"The temple stands on a broad platform, and rises first in five
square terraces, inclosing galleries or processional paths
between their walls, which are covered on each side with
bas-relief sculptures. If placed in single line, these
bas-reliefs would extend for three miles. The terrace walls hold
four hundred and thirty-six niches or alcove chapels, where
life-size Buddhas sit serene upon lotus cushions. Staircases
ascend in straight lines from each of the four sides, passing
under stepped or pointed arches, the keystones of which are
elaborately carved masks, and rows of sockets in the jambs show
where wood or metal doors once swung. Above the square terraces
are three circular terraces, where seventy-two latticed dagabas
(reliquaries in the shape of the calyx or bud of the lotus)
inclose each a seated image, seventy-two more Buddhas sitting in
those inner, upper circles, of Nirvana, facing a great dagaba,
or final cupola, the exact function or purpose of which as key
to the whole structure is still the puzzle of archæologists.
This final shrine is fifty feet in diameter, and either covered
a relic of Buddha, or a central well where the ashes of priests
and princes were deposited, or is a form surviving from the
tree-temples of the earliest primitive East when nature-worship
prevailed. The English engineers made an opening in the solid
exterior, and found an unfinished statue of Buddha on a platform
over a deep well-hole."
[Illustration]
We read this description among others before we visited the Boro Budur,
and must confess that from none of them did we get a correct idea of
what we were to see. It must be seen to be realised. Not even
photographs give a true conception of the ornate character of the
decorative stonework--the hard but freely-worked lava stone having lent
itself easily to the chisel. Like Cologne or Milan Cathedrals, it must
be examined minutely to grasp the elaborateness of the sculptured work,
but, unlike either of these, it does not produce an immediate impression
of grandeur and religious elevation. It is unlike any of the temples in
Japan, or, indeed, anywhere, though Ceylon and India may suggest
comparisons.
What will strike the visitor as he perambulates these miles of
sculptured terraces is the complete absence of any offensive or indecent
figure. Mere nudity is not, of course, an outrage to the artistic soul;
but here there is not even a nude or grotesque figure. Each is draped in
the fine flowing robes of the East, not in monotonous regularity but
suggestive of prince and peasant, princess and maids, down even to the
jewels they wear. Strangely enough, no particularly Javanese type of
face or figure is represented--all are Hindu, Hindu-Caucasian and pure
Greek.
It is not our purpose to give elaborate details of this work of
religious art. The visitor may obtain at Djocjakarta a copy of Dr.
Groneman's learned treatise on the subject, a treatise which will teach
him something about Buddhism as well as the Boro Budur, of which Dr.
Groneman has made an exhaustive study. With his guide, the sculptures
become an open book to the visitor.
It is more archæological than descriptive, however, and we must
acknowledge our indebtedness again to Miss Scidmore for the following
passage to show the scope of the sculptures:--
[Illustration]
"The everyday life of the seventh and eighth century is
pictured--temples, palaces, thrones and tombs, ship and houses,
all of man's constructions are portrayed. The life in courts and
palaces, in fields and villages, is all seen there. Royal folk
in wonderful jewels sit enthroned, with minions offering gifts
and burning incense before them warriors kneeling and maidens
dancing. The peasant ploughs the rice-fields with the same
wooden stick and ungainly buffalo, and carries the rice-sheaves
from the harvest field with the same shoulder poles, used in
all the farther East to-day. Women fill their water-vessels at
the tanks and bear them away on their heads as in India now, and
scores of bas-reliefs show the unchanging costumes of the East
that offer sculptors the same models in this century. Half the
wonders of that great three-mile-long gallery of sculptures
cannot be recalled. Each round disclosed some more wonderful
picture, some more eloquent story. Even the humorous fancies of
the sculptors are expressed in stone. In one relievo a
splendidly caparisoned state elephant flings its feet in
imitation of the dancing girl near by. Other sportive elephants
carry fans and state umbrellas in their trunks; and the marine
monsters swimming about the ship that bears the Buddhist
missionaries to the isles have such expression and human
resemblance as to make one wonder if those pillory an enemy with
their chisels, too. In the last gallery, where, in the progress
of the religion, it took on many features of Jainism, or
advancing Brahmanism, Buddha is several times represented as the
ninth avatar, or incarnation, of Vishnu, still seated on the
lotus cushion and holding a lotus with one of his four hands."
In all probability, the masonry was shaken down by an earthquake, the
Boro Budur being near three volcanoes. Restorative and preservative work
is now being carried on by the Government, and some of the smaller
temples in the Djocja district are restored in the original design.
[Illustration: THE BARA BUDUR--ONE OF THE GALLERIES.]
[Illustration: THE SMÉROE--13,000 FEET HIGH.]
There is a small hotel at the Boro Budur where one is recommended to
stay when studying details, and we can well believe that sunrise as seen
from the summit is a sight one should never forget. We saw it in the
early afternoon when the heat vapours from the noontide sun partially
obliterated the landscape, but even so it was impressive. Except on the
right, where the mountains close in the horizon, the eye has a range of
many miles over fertile alluvial plains, studded with coco and banana
and palm trees, and every other patch of ground cultivated "like a tulip
bed." Miss Marianne North, whose collection of paintings in Kew Gardens
may be familiar to some of our readers, wrote of this view: "The very
finest view we ever saw."
The Temples of Parambanan.