BUDDHIST JAVA
Was ist das Heiligste? Das was heut’ und ewig die Geister
Tief und tiefer gefühlt, immer nur einiger macht.[107]
WOLFGANG VON GOETHE, _Vier Jahreszeiten (Herbst)._
Although the theory of Gautama the Sugata’s life-story being only a
repolished solar myth has broken down, its vital element of emancipation
from Brahmanic bonds is certainly much older than Buddhism and the
traditional Buddha but an incarnation of ideas long germinating and
attaining fruition in his teachings, precisely as happened with other
religious reformers who came and went before and after. The thirty-three
gods of the three worlds, “eleven in heaven, eleven on earth and eleven
dwelling in glory in mid-air,” with their three supreme shining ones,
Brahma, Vishnu and Siva, creating, maintaining, destroying and creating
anew, began to pall on the human _trimoorti_ of brain, heart and
bodily wants; the moral dispensation on which the social edifice was
founded, began to need revision. Neither did the orthodox, at first,
refuse admittance to the spirit of emendation. At the _sangharama_[108]
of Nalanda the Vedas were taught together with the Buddhist doctrine
according to the tenets of the Greater and the Lesser Vehicle _à choix_.
The Buddha had to be accepted and was accepted equally by eastern
tolerance and western necessity; while ranking as a divine teacher among
his followers in the legendary development of his precepts, he received
honour as an incarnation of Vishnu among the Hindus, says Sir William
W. Hunter,[109] and as a Saint of the Christian Church, with a day
assigned to him in both the Greek and Roman calendars. Truly, the Hindus
regarded him as the ninth and hitherto last incarnation of Vishnu, the
Lying Spirit let loose to deceive man until the tenth and final descent
of the god, on the white horse, with a flaming sword like a comet in
his hand, for the destruction of the wicked and the renovation of the
world, but he was reckoned with and acknowledged in their mythology,
and the remarkable conformity between Prince Sarvarthasiddha’s lineage,
adventures and achievements, and those of the seventh _avatar_ of the
Hindu deity in the _Ramayana_ are certainly more than accidental. The
law of mercy to all, preached by the blissful Bhagavat, the Buddha, the
Saviour, affected the Brahman creed profoundly; so profoundly in its
deductions, that apprehensive priests resolved to extirpate Buddhist
heresy. But since religious persecution always defeats its purpose,
Buddhism throve with oppression and holds fully its own against the two
other great religions of the present day, al-Islām and Christianity.
To define the Buddhism which, parallel and entwined with Hinduïsm,
preceded the Muhammadanism of Java, is no easy matter, if it is possible
at all. For the sake of convenience Javanese Buddhism may be classified
as _mahayanistic_, conformable to the northern canon or doctrine of
the Greater Vehicle, versus _hinayanistic_, _i.e._ conformable to
the southern canon or the doctrine of the Lesser Vehicle. But the
geographical division proposed by Burnouf, hardly meets the case of
our more advanced knowledge, which points rather to chronological
distinctions. Javanese Buddhism of the younger growth was strongly
impregnated with modified Brahmanic conceits,[110] in fact a compromise
between the hopeful expectation of the Metteya Buddha, the Messiah
promised by Bhagavat, and resignation to the decrees of the Jagad Guru
whom the Saivas of Hindu Java had chosen for their _ishta-devata_,
the fittest form in which to adore the Ruler of the Universe, Param
Esvara. Siva lost under Buddhist influences his terrorising aspect as
Kala, and the two creeds, giving and taking, lived in perfect concord.
The statues of the Dhyani Buddhas partook of Siva’s attributes; those
of their sons, the Bodhisatvas, the Buddhas in evolution, and of their
_saktis_, showed the characteristics of other Hindu gods and goddesses;
Siva, conversely, assumed the features of Avalokitesvara or Padmapani,
the Buddhist lord of the world that is now. I have already spoken of the
enthroned Bodhisatvas represented at the Sivaïte temples of Prambanan
and the more or less Sivaïte exterior of the Buddhist _chandi_ Mendoot.
Also of this remarkable syncretism, born from inbred tolerance, leading
to new transactions with the Islām, exacting as it may be everywhere
else; of the deference still shown to deities of the Hindu pantheon
in the shape of _jinn_; of the adjustment of Muhammadan institutions
to usages of Hindu origin; etc. And Buddhism, doubtless, prepared the
mystically inclined mind of the Javanese Moslim for the acceptance of
the mild Sufism of the school of Gazali, which guides him in submission
of will to _ma’ripat_, full knowledge, and _hakakat_, most hidden truth,
while he lacks the conviction, to quote Professor L. W. C. van den Berg,
that his neglect of the prescribed daily prayers will make him lose his
status as a true believer.
[Illustration: XIX. _CHANDI_ KALASAN
(C. Nieuwenhuis.)]
Central Java is richer yet in the quality than in the quantity of its
Buddhist monuments, whose builders and decorators, like the true
artists they were, told what they knew and believed, nothing but that,
and therefore told it so well.[111] To examine their work, beautiful
even in decay, beginning with the smaller structures, we wend our way
again to the plain of Prambanan. Travelling from Jogjakarta to Surakarta
by rail, the first stopping-place, reached in about twenty minutes, is
Kalasan, the _chandi_ of that name, otherwise called Kali Bening, being
visible from the train. Once it must have been one of the finest and
most elaborately wrought in the island; now only the south front, nearly
tumbling down, witnesses to its former splendour. It was built in 700
Saka (A.D. 778), a date preserved in a Nagari inscription which
settles that point,[112] and names a Shailandra prince as its founder in
honour of his _guru_ (teacher), doing homage to Tara[113] who, seeing
the destruction of men in the sea of life, which is full of incalculable
misery, saves them by three means ...; it speaks of a grant of land to
the monks of a neighbouring monastery, contains several particulars of
practical value with an admonition to keep a bridge or dam in repair,
etc. The building, in the form of a Greek cross, had four apartments,
reached by a terrace and four staircases, the stones of which have been
carried away long ago. The four gates, judging by the little left on
one of them, were profusely decorated with the _kala-makara_ motive
dominating the ornament. The roof bore images of Dhyani Buddhas in 44
niches and was crowned with 16 dagobs so called, the principal one
rising probably to a great height. Time and rapine have reduced this
magnificent realisation of a glorious conception, this masterpiece of
measured luxury, as Rouffaer styles it justly, to a melancholy heap of
debris. The statuary which adorned the exterior is gone, save three
images in their niches, examples of the gorgeous but never too florid
ornamentation; the interior pictures desolation, ruin within ruin! A
disfigured elephant, driven by a horned monster, its mahout, protrudes
from the wall above the throne it protects, but the cushioned seat is
empty. The statue taken from it was presumably a representation of the
beatific Tara glorified in the inscription, the noble and venerable
one, whose smile made the sun to shine and whose frown made darkness to
envelop the terrestrial sphere. It has been surmised that the mysterious
female deity in the residency grounds at Jogjakarta originally filled
the throne of Kalasan, but the vanished Tara left her cushion behind
and the unknown goddess, whose lovely body rivals the lotus-flower in
august sweetness, holds firmly to her _padmasana_ in addition to her
attributes defying identification as the mother of the Buddha who is to
be.
The short distance between the _chandi_ Kalasan or Kali Bening and the
_chandi_ Sari must have been often traversed by the seekers of the
noble eight-fold path, inquirers into the four truths and examiners
of the three signs, mortifiers of their flesh in the practice of the
ten repugnances. _Bikshus_, living on the alms they collected without
asking by word or gesture, without unduly attracting attention, passing
in silence those inclined and those not inclined to charity, avoiding
the houses and people dangerous to virtue, never tarrying anywhere and
never presenting themselves more than three times at the doors of the
uncharitable, eating the food received in solitude before noon, the only
meal allowed to them, they must have awakened a good deal of pity in
their tattered robes, but one suspects that the mendicant brethren of
Java, notwithstanding their individual vows of poverty, were exceedingly
wealthy as a community after the wont of their kind everywhere and of
whatever religious denomination. Their _viharas_ or monasteries, to
judge from the ruins, were well appointed and the inmates apparently
well provided for by princes who took a pride or found their interest
in befriending religion and the religious. If strictly adhering to
their monastic rules, the Buddhist monks had to live in the open,
but the wet monsoon is not a pleasant season in the woods without
adequate protection against storm and rain, and _avec le ciel il y a
des accommodements_, a motto acted upon long before le Sieur Poquelin
formulated it. The _chandi_ Sari is supposed to have been the main
structure of the residential quarter destined for the accommodation
of the clergy connected with the _chandi_ Kalasan, the abode of the
monks who knew the greater vehicle of discipline as the inscription has
it, the monastery built by command of the Shailendra king for their
venerable congregation and recommended to his successors in order
that all who followed their teachings might understand the cause and
effect of the positive condition of things and attain prosperity. The
rectangular building had a lower and an upper storey, both divided
into three rooms, lighted by windows; the absent roof had niches for
statuary, capped with diminutive domes in the manner of dagobs. In the
decoration extensive use has been made of the elephant and the _makara_,
the fabulous fish with an elephant’s head; images of saints with and
without aureoles, of celestial beings more suggestive of the Hindu
pantheon than of Buddhist atheism,[114] of the bird-people and divers
animals, enliven the rich, flowery ornament of the well proportioned
facings, cornices and window-frames. Rising gracefully from its solid
yet elegant base, the edifice creates an impression of airiness and
stability cleverly combined, the dark gray colour of the weatherbeaten
andesite blending harmoniously with the tender green of the bambu-stools
which transport our thoughts to the garden of Kalandra where the Buddha,
preaching the lotus of the good law, made converts foreordained to rank
among his most famous disciples: Sariputra, Maudgalyayana, Katyayana....
And the officially licensed sinners against the ancient monuments of
Java, hardened, habitual criminals in that respect, expressly appointed
to do their worst at the Paris Exhibition of 1900, pretended their
horrid botch in the Park of the Trocadéro to be a reproduction _d’une
pureté irréprochable_ of this rare gem of architectural workmanship, the
_chandi_ Sari!
[Illustration: XX. _CHANDI_ SARI
(C. Nieuwenhuis.)]
As in India, pious foundations for the benefit of those under bond to
serve religion, disregarding worldly considerations, must have been
numerous in Java, especially in the plain of Prambanan, once studded
with _viharas_ like Asoka’s kingdom, the “Behar” of to-day. Passing
over the monastic claims advanced for some ruins in the southern
mountains, those of Plahosan cannot be ignored. There we find the
remains of two buildings, formerly enclosed by a wall, portions of
which are recognisable, and surrounded by smaller structures arranged
in three rows, the inner ones reminding of the style conspicuous in the
_chandi_ Sewu, about a mile to the west-southwest. Close together,
but originally perhaps divided by a second wall, they are situated
due north and south from each other with their entrances to the west;
the roofs have succumbed; of the two storeys only the lower ones,
containing sufficient space for three rooms, are tolerably preserved.
Of a composite nature, the _chandi_ Plahosan was presumably rather a
_sangharama_ than a _vihara_ and the doorkeeper at the gate, when all
those scattered stones and the smashed, stolen or otherwise removed
statues were still in place, may have welcomed the wayfarer, seeking
shelter on a tempestuous night, with such difficult questions as barred
access to the hospitality of Silabhadra, the superior of Nalanda, and
his flock. Hiuen Tsiang, the Chinese pilgrim, who could answer them all
and a good many more, has left us a description of the _sangharama_,
the six consolidated _viharas_ of Nalanda with their towers, domes and
pavilions, embellished by the piety of the kings of the five Indies;
their gardens, splashing fountains and shady groves, where he spent
several years learning Sanskrit and the wisdom of the holy books, never
thinking the days too long; their life of ease, scarcely conducive
to the austere observance of pristine discipline by the ten thousand
brethren under vows and novices who crowded thither to seek purification
and deliverance from sin in study and meditation,--a description which,
for want of any better, our fancy takes leave to apply to Plahosan.
Though separated by months of travel from Bodhimanda, where Sakyamuni
entered the state of the perfect Buddha and the proximity of which
gave Nalanda its holy character, the zeal of its scholars and saints,
no less tolerant than Hiuen Tsiang’s temporary co-students, who sifted
with laudable impartiality the truth from the Vedas, from the doctrines
of the two vehicles and from the heresies of the eighteen schismatics,
undoubtedly stimulated religious life in the best sense of the word,
religion disposing the mind to kindliness and goodwill, as it should,
strengthening social ties, fostering science and art.
The walls of the _chandi_ Plahosan, in so far as preserved, are
beautifully decorated with sculpture in bas-relief. The delicate
tracery of the basement is divided by slender pilasters and the frieze
beneath the symmetric cornice is richly festooned, parrots nestling in
the foliage among the flowers. Bodhisatvas, standing between, formed
the principal ornament of panels bordered by garlands with pendent
prayer-bells; the remaining ones grasp lotus-stems springing up to their
left; _gandharvas_ (celestial singers) float over the _garuda_-heads of
the portals. The reliefs represent scenes familiar to the observer of
native life: here a couple of men seated under a bo-tree or _waringin_
and saluting a person of rank, raising their folded hands to perform
the _sembah_; there a _mās_[115] with his attendants, one of whom
holds the _payoong_ (sunshade) over his head while another carries
a _senteh_[116] leaf. Four stone figures guard the approaches to the
_viharas_, armed with cudgel and sword; in one hand they hold the snake
which, after the manner of their kind, should be worn over one shoulder
and across the breast, replacing the _upawita_. The statuary which
adorned the inner rooms, was of large dimensions, finely chiselled and
garnished with profuse detail, concluding from what we know of it. Part
has been removed to the “museum” at Jogja, part has been broken to
pieces by treasure-hunters who dug holes and sunk shafts, disturbing
the foundations of the _chandi_ Plahosan in their ignorance of the
difference between Buddhist monasteries and Hindu mausolea built round
funeral pits; the sorely damaged images of holiness which were suffered
to keep their stations by frankly destructive and even more pernicious
official or semi-official _soi-disant_ “preservation and conservation,”
are truly pitiful to behold. It seems, indeed, as if the monuments
specially recommended to official care, are singled out for the most
irreparable injury. On a par with the wild feast of plaster, cement
and whitewash at Panataran was the wonderful planning of a restoration
of the _chandi_ Plahosan after faulty drawings and the simultaneous
disappearance of the staircase and a portion of the substructure of the
northern _vihara_.
Less than a mile to the south of the stopping-place Prambanan on the
railroad from Jogja to Solo, are the ruins of a group of _chandis_
which may or may not have borne a monastic character,[117] Sajiwan and
Kalongan being the names connected with it. One of the structures was
cleared in 1893 by the Archaeological Society of Jogjakarta and to its
statuary applies what has been said of the atrocities perpetrated at
Plahosan: besides downright spoliation the same errors of omission and
commission. From Prambanan proper, _i.e._ from the Loro Jonggrang group,
it is a short walk to the _chandi_ Sewu, which means the “thousand
temples”. They are situated in Surakarta, the boundary between the
Susuhunan’s and the Sooltan’s domains, indicated by two white pillars,
running just behind the smaller structures which face the shrines of
Brahma and Vishnu flanking that of Siva. But, though the walk is short,
it may be a trifle too sunny for comfort even if it be morning and the
roads lively with the women returning from market, the surroundings
of the houses of prayer and death gladdening the eye, presenting a
spectacle full of colour and light, the matrons treading their way
statelily and steadily, the maidens, decorous and modest, gliding behind
their elders like the _devis_, the shining ones descended from the
_Ramayana_ reliefs, to exhibit their exquisite forms, bashful however
conscious of their worth in that golden, sweet-scented atmosphere.
They have no business at the _chandi_ Sewu and on the unfrequented
by-path thither we proceed alone, save for a few children with no more
to cover their nakedness than the loveliest innocence--a garment quite
different from the western _cache-misère_ of mawkish prudery--, curious
to find out what the strangers are about. Under their escort we reach
the _chandi_ Loomboong (_padi_-shed), thus called from the size and form
of the ruins which compose it. They are sixteen in number, arranged in
a square round the principal structure, its once octagonal roof, shaped
like a dagob, attesting to its Buddhist character, though it is not
unmixed with Sivaïte elements as the funeral pits plainly indicate. They
were already empty when examined some years ago and the fine statues
tradition speaks of, can nowhere be found. The little ornament left in
place and one single fragment of a bas-relief give a high idea of the
decoration when the beauty of these temples had not yet faded away,
exactly as in the case of the _chandi_ Bubrah,[118] another shrine on
the _via sacra_ which connects the Loro Jonggrang and Sewu groups. To
quote Major van Erp again: The state of affairs here is very sad; of the
_chandis_ Ngaglik, Watu Gudik and Geblak, which the memory of the oldest
inhabitants puts somewhat farther north, even the site cannot now be
located.
[Illustration: XXI. _RAKSASA_ OF THE _CHANDI_ SEWU
(Centrum.)]
By the time we reach the thousand temples, Surya, the sun-god, has
driven his fiery carriage to the zenith of his daily course through
the air and the fire-eyed _raksasas_, who guard the enclosure of
holiness; two for each of the four entrances, stretch their gigantic
limbs with dreadful menace in the warm brilliancy of indefinite space,
tangible terror. Down on one knee to strike, snakes hanging from their
left shoulders as poisonous baldrics, they seem to mark the transition
between the worship of Kala, quickening destruction personified, and
the creed which hails in death the portal to nirvanic nothingness,
the liberation from life’s miseries. Behind them reigns the stillness
of a tropical noon, subduing heaven and earth to silent but intensely
passionate day-dreams. The kingly sun, the sun of Java, wide-skirted
Jagannath, having mounted to the summit of the fleckless sky, pauses
a moment before descending, he, the light of the world, exciting to
generative emotion all that dwells below. The fructifying charm of his
touch is manifest in the exuberant fertility of this island fortunate;
in the vitality of its people, unrestrained in creative capacity by
centuries of spoliation; in their mental make-up, revealed in their
history, their beliefs, traditions and legends. The legend of the
_chandi_ Sewu may be adduced as an instance in point, though nothing
but a different version of the legend of the _chandi_ Loro Jonggrang.
One ancient effort to account for architectural wonders deemed of
supernatural origin, by an explanation whose Indian basic idea was
transplanted from the fields of eastern to those of western folk-lore
too, serving at first, perhaps, for all the monuments in the plains
of Prambanan and Soro Gedoog, became the framework of different tales
adapted to the requirements of different localities. Here it is the
story of Mboq Loro Jonggrang repeated, and her lover Raden Bandoong
Bondowoso is the son of the beautiful Devi Darma Wati, daughter of Prabu
Darmo Moyo, king of the mighty empire of Pengging, whose two brothers,
Prabu Darmo Haji and Prabu Darmo Noto, were kings respectively of
Slembri and Sudhimoro.
The _babad chandi Sewu_ describes a public function at the Court of
Prabu Darmo Moyo, who sits on his throne of ivory, inlaid with the
rarest gems. The _aloon aloon_ outside swarms with his warriors and
while he pronounces judgment and invests and displaces, ambassadors from
Prambanan are announced. They deliver a letter from Prabu Karoong Kolo,
in which the Boko, the giant-king, asks Prabu Darmo Moyo’s daughter,
Devi Darma Wati, in marriage. The Princess, acquainted with his suit,
declares that she will marry no one but the man, be he king or beggar,
able to rede a riddle which is given, written on a _lontar_-leaf, to
the ambassadors who thereupon depart. On their arrival at Prambanan,
Prabu Karoong Kolo breaks impatiently the seal of the communication;
learning its meaning, his eyes dart flames, his mouth foams and,
tearing the _lontar_-leaf into pieces and trampling upon it, making the
earth tremble and disturbing the sky with his noisy wrath, he collects
his army and marches against Pengging to raze the _kraton_ of Prabu
Darmo Moyo and carry Darma Wati off. The King of Pengging, warned
of the approaching danger, implores his brother Darmo Noto, King of
Sudhimoro, to assist him; with his brother Darmo Haji, King of Slembri,
an odious tyrant, he has broken long ago. Prabu Darmo Noto orders his
son, the Crown Prince Raden Damar Moyo, to lead his troops against the
giant-king. Traversing the woods at the head of his men, scaling cliffs
and climbing mountains, crossing rivers and ravines, attacked by evil
spirits and wild animals, Damar Moyo, strenuous in the cause of his
uncle and his fair cousin, hastens to their defence but, leaving every
one behind, he loses his way and, tired out at last, falls asleep. A
strange sensation of heavenly joy awakens him and, opening his eyes,
he beholds the supreme god, Bathara Naradha, who presents him with the
celestial weapons of the abode of the immortals, Jonggring Saloko,
salves his forehead with the divine spittle to make him invulnerable and
invincible, and puts into his hand the flower Sekar Joyo Kusumo which
will enable him to rede Devi Darma Wati’s riddle. Strengthened and more
enthusiastic than ever, Raden Damar Moyo, having rejoined his army,
engages the giants of Prambanan and defeats them, astonishing friend and
foe with his acts of superhuman prowess. He redes the riddle, marries
Darma Wati, and his father-in-law, Prabu Darmo Moyo, appoints him
_senapati_, _i.e._ commander-in-chief of the forces of Pengging.
The legend being too long for insertion in full, besides its containing
details too candidly illustrative of the generative emotion engendered
by the wide-skirted Jagannath, a summary of the events which led to the
foundation of the _chandi_ Sewu must suffice. Boko Prabu Karoong Kolo,
King of Prambanan, loses his life in another attempt at the subjugation
of Pengging, and Raden Damar Moyo, having nothing more to fear from
that side, but naturally inclined to strife and contest, resolves to
take part in the wars then raging among the kings of the Thousand
Empires, Sewu Negoro. So he leaves his wife and the son born to them,
Raden Bandoong, who grows into a comely youth. Arriving at manhood and
still in complete ignorance of his sire’s name and lineage, the prince
questions his mother on that subject but, in obedience to an express
order from the gods, she refuses to tell him. Vexed and suspicious, he
equips himself from the armoury of his grandfather, Prabu Darmo Moyo,
and eludes maternal vigilance, escaping from the _kraton_ in search of
his father. After many adventures, culminating in a conflict with his
parent in the Sewu Negoro, the two meeting and exchanging hard blows and
parting as strangers, he reaches Prambanan, kills Tumenggoong Bondowoso,
left in charge of that realm, and falls in love with Devi Loro
Jonggrang, daughter of the late Boko Prabu Karoong Kolo. But he has been
forestalled in her favour by his cousin Raden Boko, who is to become
her husband on condition of the overthrow of Pengging and Sudhimoro.
Suspecting a rival while maturing his plans for conquest, this Raden
Boko takes a mean advantage of the lady by a trick learnt from a recluse
who lends him a _tesbeh_ (string of prayer-beads) which possesses the
power of transforming its temporary owner into a white turtle-dove.
So disguised, he flies to the women’s quarter of the _kraton_ of
Prambanan and attracts the attention of Loro Jonggrang, who responds to
the lovely bird’s advances, puts it in her bosom and pets and fondles
it to her heart’s content until, alas! it is killed by an arrow sped
from the never erring bow of Raden Bandoong, thanks to the busybodies
of the palace having informed him of the idyllic progressive cooing.
Woman-like, the bereaved Devi submits to the inevitable after a period
of passionate mourning, and promises her heart and hand to the stronger
if not more dexterous suitor on condition of his building a thousand
temples in one night between the first crowing of the cock and daybreak.
With the help of the gods of Jonggring Saloko he accomplishes the task,
but at the moment that he whispers _astaga[119] chandi Sewu_, struck by
the sight of the moonlit plain blossoming into a city of holiness, the
immortals change him for his arrogant prayer into a monster of horrible
aspect. Woman-like again, the Devi declines to keep her promise,
pleading that she engaged herself to a man and not to a brute, and seeks
refuge on the banks of the river Opak. Frightened by the persecution of
Raden Bandoong, who tracks her from cave to cave, she gives untimely
birth to a daughter, the fruit of her affection for turtle-doves, and
dies. The brutal, baffled lover still haunts the neighbourhood, which
therefore native mothers-to-be scrupulously avoid, though it is not
observed that the virgins derive much instruction from the legend as far
as concerns the consequences of Devi or Mboq Loro Jonggrang’s _amours_
at an earlier stage.
From legendary lore we return to fact in the matter of the foundation of
the _chandi_ Sewu by taking cognisance of an inscription, _mahaprattaya
sangra granting_ or _sang rangga anting_, unearthed near one of its
246 (not thousand) temples,[120] extolling the munificence of the
magnanimous Granting or Anting. The style of writing justifies the
conjecture that the buildings date from about the year 800 and are
consequently of one age with the Boro Budoor. If not erected by one
architect at the command of one bounteous prince, and the gifts of
several pious souls who possessed the wherewithal for devotional works,
they were at least constructed according to one plan steadily kept in
view, a good deal more than can be said of many religious edifices in
western climes, which owe their existence less to co-operative than to
contentious piety. In respect of area the largest of the temple groups
in Java, the first impression received from it is that of a chaos of
ruins, confusion being worse confounded by the quarries opened here
and there, and partly filled again with earth and rubbish, while a
luxuriant vegetation, regaining on the inroads of mattock and pickaxe,
quickly covers what they disturbed. Looking closer, the separate
shrines with their elaborate tracery appear in the fiery embrace of
the sun like sparkling jewels, trembling with delight in the luminous
atmosphere beneath the immaculate sky; the very marks of decay and
ravaging time are beautiful; the weeds clustering round the broken
ornament, the toppling walls, rouse to fanciful thought. No sound is
heard; nothing stirs while we make our way to the principal structure,
once lording it over the smaller ones which stood squarely in four
lines, 28 for the inner, 44 for the next, 80 for the third, 88 for
the outer circumvallation. Excepting those of the second row, their
entrances faced inward and amidst their scanty remains the foundations
have been uncovered of five somewhat larger ones: two to the east, two
to the west and one to the north; like the outlying buildings, these
are, with regard to their superstructures, as if they never existed. Of
the terraces and staircases no other trace is left than the telltale
unevenness of the ground. The resemblance in constructive methods
between the _chandi_ Sewu and the _chandi_ Prambanan strikes one at the
first glance; the same builders, it is surmised, strove here to do for
the Triratna[121] what there they did for the Trimoorti; and if not the
same, they discerned equally the one truth bound up in the old creed and
the new, and expressed it with equal skill and conviction in these twin
litanies of stone--so the workers wrought and the work was perfected by
them.
The decorators in charge of the finishing touches, embellished this
city of temples with a wealth of ornament which in the quivering glare
of day, despite ravage of time and pillage, clothes sanctity in robes
of encrusted winsomeness. The sculpture of the _chandi_ Sewu, says a
visitor of a century ago, is tasteful, delicate and chaste. Much of what
he based his judgment on, has since been carried off or demolished,
but what remains fully bears him out: foliage and festoons, garlands
and clustered flowers, distributed over facings divided into lozenges
and circles by pilasters and fantastically curved lines, with lions,
tigers, cattle and deer in ever varying abundance, awaken reminiscences
of the carvings which excited our admiration at Prambanan and lead
to the question: Did the richly framed panellings of the twenty-four
external wall-spaces of the central temple exhibit scenes from the
epics and fable-books, besides this sumptuous adornment, to match the
almost uniform bas-reliefs of the lesser structures? If so, they must
have rivalled the artistic excellence of the _Ramayana_ reliefs which
beautify the shrines of Siva, Brahma and Vishnu. And a second question
arises: Was the central temple the depository of a relic? In connection
with this query it deserves to be noticed that, generally speaking
and excepting statuary, the internal wall-spaces of the _chandi_
Sewu lack ornament, evince a soberness in marked contrast to the
extravagant representations of the abode of bitterness, as if sign-
or house-painters had been entrusted with the illustration of Dante’s
_Inferno_, repulsive attempts à la Wiertz minus the talent to be admired
in the Rue Vautier at Brussels, nightmares of crude drawing and cruder
colouring to depict perverse torture, I found in eastern edifices raised
to satisfy priestly conventions, even in Ceylon, the island of the
doctrine that the Buddha next to dwell on earth is the Metteya Buddha,
the Buddha of Kindness. More in harmony with the soul’s yearning for his
kingdom to come, is the lotus motive happily adapted to the decoration
of the _chandi_ Sewu, especially in one of the partially preserved small
temples of the outer file, to the east of the southern entrance: from a
strong stem which separates into three branches, on three of the sides,
the entrance taking up the fourth, three lotus-flowers spring from the
soil to carry, in a finely chiselled niche, the (vanished) image of the
expected one, the gone-before and coming-after. A few of the outlying
buildings have plain facings without any ornament at all, from which it
has been concluded that here too something happened to stop the labour
in progress. Where completed, the plump-bellied flowerpot, a familiar
feature in Javanese ornament, enters largely into the decorative design
and its frequent repetition bestows on the sculpture of the _chandi_
Sewu, otherwise so very similar to that of Prambanan, a character all
its own.
[Illustration: XXII. DETAIL OF THE _CHANDI_ SEWU
(Archaeological Service through Charls and van Es.)]
It has already been remarked that the interiors of the structures which
together form this group, are almost bare of decoration. The recesses
of the central temple, whose external ornament surpasses in luxuriance
everything met elsewhere in Java, three small interconnected apartments
projecting on the west, north and south, while the eastern front is
broken by the porch, have only empty niches[122] framed by pilasters
with flowery capitals. The inner chamber, no less soberly decorated and
stripped of the statuary it possessed, _en négligé_ as it were,
_Belle sans ornement, dans le simple appareil
D’une beauté qu’on vient d’arracher au sommeil,_
has on its western side a raised throne of ample dimensions, once
perhaps occupied by the large image without head and right hand, dug
out of the debris and carried off to the “museum” at Jogja. It still
awaits identification and the difficulty is increased by the impropriety
of speculating on the likelihood that representations of the universal
spirit were admitted in a temple built for the ritual of a creed which
acknowledges neither a god nor a soul aspiring to communion with the
divine essence in prayer, desiring nothing but annihilation. Yet the
Buddhists did learn to pray and to give transcendental ideas a tangible
expression in human shape, though they never sank to idolatry. And in
Java, mixing freely with Brahmanism, not impermeable to the Sankhya
doctrine, Buddhism seems to have swerved occasionally from its longings
for extermination in the Nirvana to entertain vague, confused notions
of something more hopeful, witness the oft repeated Banaspatis. Herein
lies, perhaps, the explanation of otherwise embarrassing peculiarities
observed in the conception, the attributes and attitudes of many
Buddhist statues in the island which, for the rest, are distinguished by
great simplicity of execution. So is the throne which extends over half
the floor of the inner room of the central temple of the _chandi_ Sewu,
and the same applies to the few headless Dhyani Buddhas lying round,
sundered from their stations where they faced the cardinal points, the
four quarters of the world, and the first of them, the very elevated,
facing the sky. A gigantic finger of bronze, found in the chapel of
the throne, supports the theory that the principal statue was of that
alloy, an additional incentive to plunder--ancient images of bronze have
become scarce indeed: the form of the cushioned pedestal in the _chandi_
Kalasan too betokens a captured metallic Tara, to the further detriment
of the domiciliary rights there claimed for the homeless Lady of Mystery
in the residency grounds at Jogja.
Although the bulky _raksasas_ which keep her company in that place of
exile, prove that official vandalism did not hesitate to avail itself of
facilities of transportation afforded by forced labour, the uncommonly
heavy guardians of the _chandi_ Sewu balked even the absolute decrees
of local despotism. Everything desirable that could be detached and
removed, is, however, gone. Those in authority having exercised their
privilege by helping themselves, mere private individuals gleaned after
their reaping, with or without permission, and exceedingly interesting
collections of antiquities were formed by owners of neighbouring
sugar-mills. What they appropriated, did, at least, remain in the
country, but, among other sculpture, the lion-fighting elephants which
lined the fourteen staircases, ten feet high and eight feet wide, still
in place as late as 1841, cannot even be traced--they are dissolved,
battling animals, staircases and all. It is always and everywhere the
same story: statuary and ornament are stolen, treasure-seekers smash
the rest, the stones are prime building material and who cares for
the preservation of worthless, because already looted and demolished,
tumble-down temples? The monuments in the plain of Soro Gedoog have
suffered exceptional outrages; at this moment hardly anything is left
because there exists absolutely no control, says Major van Erp. His
investigations disclosed that stones taken from the _chandi_ Prambanan
and, when this was stopped, from the _chandi_ Sewu, were used for the
building of a dam in the river Opak. Had not public opinion made itself
heard, both these temples might have shared the fate of the _chandi_
Singo, once one of the finest in that region, whose gracefully decorated
walls excited the admiration of Brumund in 1845, whose substructure
with damaged ornament still held out until 1886, while now the
ground-plan cannot even be guessed at and deep holes, dug to get at the
foundations, are the only indications of the razed building’s site. To
give an idea of the quantity of material used for the dam in the river
Opak, I transcribe the measurements of its revetments: 35 metres on the
left and from 50 to 60 metres on the right bank; the facings, running
up to a height of 6 metres, make it evident beyond doubt where the
stone for that work was quarried. Neither are we quite sure that such
frightful spoliation belongs wholly to the past. The value of Government
solicitude, so eloquently paraded in circulars and colonial reports,
can be gauged from the fact, stated by Mr. L. Serrurier, that, during
officially sanctioned excavations among the ruins of the _chandis_
Plahosan and Sewu, the stones brought to the surface were simply thrown
pell-mell on a heap without their being marked as to locality and
position, quite in keeping, it should be added, with the prevailing
custom.
This accounts for the sad desolation, more pitiful since _soi-disant_
archaeologists got their hands in, shone upon at the _chandi_ Sewu as at
the _chandis_ Plahosan, Sari, Kalasan, Panataran, to restrict myself to
one name from East Java,--shone upon by the sun, the egg of the world,
whose yolk holds the germ of creation, Surya, the solar orb personified,
is a companion wonderfully, grandly suggestive among the “thousand
temples” of life accomplished, decaying into new birth, whether he
scorches the earth and withers the drooping flowers, or climbs a dim,
hazy sky to attract the vapours that descend again in precious showers
when the clouds collect and cover the stars, charming from darkness the
lovely dawn and budding day. The meditations he disposes the mind to
are mostly directed to the future, dreams of coming happiness, and even
the contemplative Buddhist images under the Banaspatis seem agitated
by their knowledge of a promise excelling the hope of Nirvana, which
cannot satisfy the aspirations of the children of this island, full of
the joy of existence. What will the future bring to them, the people
cradled in tempest, who were taught forbearance by a creed profoundly
imbued with the inner nature of things, and submission when misery of
war and pestilence came as the harbingers of bondage to an alien race?
Too trustful, they sacrificed their birthright for a mess of pottage
and after the encroachments of the Company, past ages crowding on their
memory, the felicity of the _jaman buda_ assumes to their imagination a
tangible shape in the ancient monuments founded by the rulers of their
own flesh and blood, edifices so widely different from the meretricious
Government opium-dens and Government pawn-shops in which the predatory
instinct of the present masters manifests itself--_layin dahulu, layin
sekarang_.[123] Resigned to fate, which wills the mutability of earthly
relations, the Javanese philosopher--and all Javanese are philosophers
in their way--takes the practical view of the Vedantins, considering
that calamities mean purification to the victor in moral contest, and
looking for a serene morning after a night of distress. He has more
beliefs than one to draw upon when seeking refuge in his cherished
maxim, his phlegmatic _apa boleh buwat_,[124] and doubts not the
possibility of obtaining a Moslim equivalent for the Buddhist _arahat_,
the perfect state, irrespective of outward conditions, by the help of
a Hindu deity, Ganesa, who knows what is to happen and, as Vinayaka,
the guide, conquers obstacles hurtful to his votaries in the course
of events preordained according to their Islāmic doctrine--syncretism
yet more complex than that of their forefathers of Old Mataram!
Watch well the heart, commanded the master. As to the watched heart
dominating the senses, the Javanese, rather a mystic than an ascetic,
and predominantly a child of nature, whence he proceeds and whither he
returns in his search of the divine, prefers enjoyment of the world’s
fullness to mortification of the flesh. He feels much more closely drawn
to Padmapani, the lord of the world that is, than to any other of the
emanations of the essence of the Universe, be it Diansh Pitar or the
One, the Eternal, who sent Muhammad as a mercy to all creatures, or the
Adi-Buddha, the primitive, the primordial, the incarnate denial of god
and soul together. Whatever he prays by, the deity involved is one of
overflowing gladness, who presents a flower with each hand, like Surya
when circling land and sea and air in three steps; and, notwithstanding
his sorrows, he rests content with his portion for, though the light of
day sets, it will rise again in glory.
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[107]
What is Holiest? That which now and ever the souls of men
Have felt deep and deeper, will always more unite them.
[108] An endowed convent whose inmates spent their lives in studious
seclusion.
[109] _The Indian Empire: its Peoples, History and Products._
[110] After this was written a remarkable article by Dr. L. A.
WADDELL in _The Imperial and Asiatic Quarterly Review_ (January,
1912), insisting upon the theistic nature of Buddhism and speaking of
the profound theistic development which had taken place--about 100
B.C.--in the direction of the Mahayana form of that faith, pointed
to the fact of Brahmanic gods being also conspicuous in the earliest
Buddhist sculptures of India, adorning, _e.g._, the stupa of Bharhoot.
[111] On rereading this sentence, I see that in writing it I was with
Ruskin at the Shepherd’s Tower. No harm done! His observations bear
repetition, notwithstanding the present fashion of pooh-poohing him, and
setting myself in the pillory as a plagiarist, I improve the opportunity
by making _amende_ (_honorable_, I hope) also for what this book owes to
many other lovers of and thinkers on art, not scrupulously acknowledged
in every instance because I compose without the help of numbered and
dated notes, and memory, though not failing in the essence of what has
been stored from their treasures, disappoints at times in the matter of
chapter and verse.
[112] The _chandi_ Kalasan is the only one in Central Java of which we
possess the exact date.
[113] The _taras_ are the _saktis_ of the five Dhyani Buddhas that
occupy a place in Javanese speculative philosophy, Vajradhatvisvari
pairing with Vajrochana, Lotchana with Akshobhya, Mamaki with
Ratnasambhava, Pandara with Amitabha, and Tara _par excellence_ with
Amoghasiddha, these unions being responsible for the Bodhisatvas
Samantabhadra, Vajrapani, Ratnapani, Padmapani and the coming
Vishvapani.
[114] Here another quotation may be permitted from Dr. L. A.
WADDELL’S article, _Evolution of the Buddhist Cult, its Gods,
Images and Art_ (_The Imperial and Asiatic Quarterly Review_, January,
1912): And notwithstanding that the Mahayana was primarily a nihilistic
mysticism, with a polytheism only in the background, the latter soon
came to the front and has contributed more than anything else to the
materialising and popularity of Buddhism.
[115] _Mās_, meaning “gold”, is used as a predicate of nobility and also
as a title conferred in polite address on persons of lower birth.
[116] _Alocasia macrorrhiza Schott_ of the _Aracaceae_ family; the
leaf, which once betokened dignity, is still used to protect the head
and upper part of the body against rain; other parts of the plant serve
sometimes as food.
[117] The pit there discovered makes the monastic character more than
doubtful while it accentuates the syncretism in which also the ornament
of these _chandis_ does not differ from all Central Javanese religious
structures of the period, except those on the Diëng plateau.
[118] Best translated by “ruin”.
[119] An exclamation of wonder and surprise.
[120] And removed to the “museum” at Jogjakarta.
[121] The three gems: the Buddha, the law and the congregation.
[122] Offering accommodation, inclusive of the holy of holies, for 42
statues, which had already flown in 1812.
[123] Different of yore, different now.
[124] There is no help for it; lit. “what can be done?”
[Illustration]