THE HOTHA VALLEY.
The mountain summit--A giant glen--Leesaw village--The wrong
road--Priestly inhospitality--Town of Hotha--A friendly
chief--The Namboke Kakhyens--The Hotha market--The Shan
people--The Koshanpyi--The Tai of Yunnan--Their personal
appearance--Costume--Equipment--The Chinese Shans--Silver hair
ornaments--Ear-rings--Torques, bracelets, and rings--Textile
fabrics--Agriculture--Social customs--Tenure of land--Old Hotha--A
Shan-Chinese temple--Shan Buddhism--The fire festival--Eclipse of the
sun--Horse worship--Ancient pagodas--Roads from Hotha.
At 2 P.M. we commenced to ascend the hills, which from Manwyne had not
appeared to be more than one thousand feet high, but proved to be three
times that altitude above the river. The rough bridle-path led straight
up the steep declivity, and in the blazing heat of an unclouded sun
the ascent was most trying to man and beast, already wearied by their
exertions in the quagmire. The mules were ahead, but our men soon
began to lag, although we went as slowly as was compatible with the
prospect of reaching Manloi, on the other side, before nightfall. A
short way up the mountain, bold cliffs stood out, of white crystalline
marble, weathering to a dull brown. This was succeeded by quartzose
rock; and, still higher, a blueish gneissose rock formed the upper
mass of the range. We passed through several Kakhyen villages, paying
a few rupees by way of toll to the headmen, who were sitting by the
roadside waiting for us. Near the summit, we had a splendid view of the
course of the Tapeng to the Burmese plain. A high curtain of clouds
to the westward hung over the entrance of the river into the gorge of
the hills, while below and beyond it the immense plain of the Irawady
was clearly discerned backed by high hills, and with the great river
winding through it like a broad silver band. To the right extended a
magnificent panorama of the valley as far as the spur above Sanda,
and we took a long farewell gaze at the lovely vale, walled in by its
guardian mountains, and rich in every variety of effect produced by the
grouping in sunset lights and shadows, of flood and fell, and verdant
fields. Having crossed the summit more than five thousand feet above
the sea, we looked down on the narrow Hotha valley, not a thousand feet
below, stretched out at our feet for twenty-five miles, the opposite or
southern range trending round to the north-east to join the mountain
wall of the Sanda valley, by a connecting ridge, much lower than the
height from which we looked across, and saw to the south successive
distant heights cradling valleys whose waters flow to the Shuaylee.
It is somewhat difficult to find an appropriate term for this lofty
mountain-cradled district. It is a giant glen, scarcely above two miles
wide, presenting no level ground, but a succession of broken surface
diversified by tossed grassy knolls of red soil, dotted here and there
with villages, each with its plantation of fruit trees. A narrow
stream, the Namsa, winds down on the southern side, till, through a
cluster of higher grassy hills covered with bracken, it forces its
downward way to the Tapeng. Such is the valley of Hotha as it lay
smiling before us in the fast fading light, with its hundred villages,
tenanted by forty thousand peaceful and industrious Chinese-Shans,
which compose the two states of Hotha and Latha, or Muangtha and Hansa.
Having commenced to descend the ridge, we met with some Leesaws
carrying a freshly killed deer, which an offer of ten rupees failed to
induce them to part with. Many tracts of temperate forest trees, such
as oaks and beeches, were seen, and below them extensive tracts of a
novel short and thin stemmed bamboo. We presently passed through the
village of our Leesaw friends, picturesquely perched on the face of a
steep spur among magnificent trees and enormous grey boulders, some of
which were as large as the houses, which latter differed altogether
from the Kakhyen habitations, being small square structures, with no
floor save the ground, which was kept dry by means of a trench cut
round the mud walls. We entered the village street by a wooden gateway,
and passed out under a long covered passage embowered in luxuriant
creepers.
The sun had set almost as we commenced the descent, and darkness
overtook us halfway down. At a division of the path, a stubborn
muleteer insisted on choosing what proved to be the wrong road, and
half our party, including the Manhleo headman, were thus misled. We
blundered along a rough bridle-track covered with loose stones and
cut up by watercourses. In vain we shouted to attract the attention,
and learn the whereabouts, of the rest; no answer was returned save
the echoes from the hills, now shrouded in darkness. At last we
met some Shans, and learned that we were close to a village called
Mentone, in the Latha or western division, and some miles from Hotha.
A consultation was held as to which alternative was the worst, to
proceed in the dark to Hotha, or go dinnerless and supperless to bed.
The latter seemed the least evil; so we made for the village khyoung,
which was reached at 8.50 P.M. We could get nothing to eat; and,
thoroughly tired, we unsaddled the hungry and worn-out ponies, and,
taking their saddles for pillows, fell asleep on the floor in front of
the altar. Our slumbers, however, were soon disturbed by the phoongyees
squatting down close to our heads, and shouting out their evening
prayers. The chief phoongyee, a shrivelled old man, sat cross-legged,
with his prayer-book on a small stool before him, and a little acolyte
sat by his side, running a wooden pointer along the lines to keep the
priest’s eyes from wandering. Before him sat six choristers yelling
in different keys at the pitch of their voices. The devotions of the
phoongyee were interrupted by our Shan interpreter, who shouted to him
that he wanted to buy four annas worth of rice. The priest at once
stopped the service to bargain as to the quantity of rice to be given
for the coin, which was new to him; this being settled, he resumed his
office, but was again interrupted, as he had not sent any one to serve
out the rice.
Prayers being ended, we requested something to eat, and were told that
there were some pears on a tree outside, to which we were at liberty
to help ourselves, a generous offer which was politely declined. The
priest, however, gave us quilts to lie on; and being thus made at all
events warmer, though still hungry, we fell asleep, and, waking before
dawn, were well on the way to Hotha by sunrise.
The inhospitality of these phoongyees was in singular contrast to the
tenets and practice of the Burmese Buddhist priests, who hold it a
pious duty to receive and refresh the stranger. There was, however, an
ill feeling at work against us, which found vent in the question asked
by some of the villagers, “Why had we come to their valley to bring
flying dragons and other evils on them?” This was due to the malicious
reports that the Muangla people had spread. The unexampled inundations
were attributed to our presence, and it was declared that our stay had
been followed by death in each place. Even the Hotha chief was not free
from the superstitious dread thus produced; and his father-in-law, the
old Latha tsawbwa, though he accepted the presents sent him, utterly
declined a visit, as he feared the strangers would bewitch him and his
household. His dutiful son-in-law declined to press him, as he was “an
old buffalo,” which always went in the contrary direction to that in
which it was driven.
Turning our backs on the inhospitable village, we proceeded by an
excellent paved road carried along the end of the spurs, and in many
places cut out along the slopes. The mountain streams were crossed
by means of granite bridges, some of them adorned with dragons.
Numerous villages embowered among fine trees were passed; and a novel
feature was introduced by the occurrence, at intervals, of roadside
drinking-fountains, the wells being built over and cased in stone
ornamented with a white marble frieze. A gilded pagoda surmounting a
hillock opposite Manloi brought our thoughts back to Burma, as it was
the first pagoda of the Burmese type seen since our departure from the
plains.
At 8 A.M., August 10th, we arrived at the town of Hotha, consisting of
about one hundred and fifty houses, surrounded by a low wall, somewhat
ruined and dilapidated, the result, not of Panthay invasion, but of a
rebellion by the tsawbwa’s subjects, who a year before, exasperated by
the imposition of a new tax, rose and attacked his town. The tsawbwa
and his son, in state dresses, the former attired as a mandarin of the
blue button, received us at their residence, and a salute was fired
from four mortar-shaped guns embedded in the ground. Quarters were
assigned to us in the haw, close to the chief’s private apartments;
and all our people were assembled in the course of the day. The whole
of the baggage was brought in safely, although the party had been
divided in the descent of the mountain, and some of the followers had
been obliged to remain in the Leesaw village, the unsophisticated
mountaineers charging them two rupees a head for their night’s lodging!
The Manhleo poogain and Kingain, the Muangla headman to whom the convoy
of the baggage had been entrusted, were very proud of the encomiums
passed on their successful performance of their task, and requested a
certificate to that effect, and further promised to assist all future
travellers who might desire to cross from Manwyne to Hotha.
We remained until the 27th as guests of the courteous and accomplished
chief Li-lot-fa, or, to give him his Chinese appellation,
Li-yin-khyeen; and the recollection of our sojourn with him, and of his
pleasant valley, is the most agreeable of all the reminiscences of the
country beyond the Kakhyen hills. Not only did our host evince the most
hospitable desire to purvey all creature comforts, but he made us feel
thoroughly at home. We lived on terms of intimacy with his family,
and his two wives and two daughters manifested a charming freedom of
manners, combined with the most refined propriety, that would have done
credit to a drawing-room at home. The chief delighted to converse about
the various modern inventions of which he had heard reports from the
Chinese who had visited Rangoon. Their accounts, however, _more suo_,
had been full of marvellous exaggerations, including flying-machines,
telescopes that enabled the sight to penetrate mountains, and others
that divested people of their clothes! The chief had some vague ideas
about railways, steamships, and gas, and was most eager for fuller and
more accurate information.
We urged him to visit Rangoon and Calcutta, but he seemed to think
the disturbed state of the country an insuperable obstacle; but he
discussed, instead, the plan of sending his son, a lad of thirteen, to
Rangoon. Li-lot-fa could read and write Shan and Chinese, and he now
commenced to learn Burmese, and it was a curious sight to see him at
work with his note-book, which he had obtained from us, taking down
words and sentences as busily as if he had been a competition wallah
preparing for an examination.
The fact that this tsawbwa had succeeded in maintaining friendly
relations with both the Panthays and imperialist Chinese chiefs, with
whom his real sympathies lay, so that his valley had escaped the evils
of war, spoke well for his diplomatic tact. His conversation showed
that he had been from the first well informed about our progress and
difficulties, which he unhesitatingly attributed to the machinations
of the Bhamô Chinese. He asserted that the advance to Ponsee, and the
desertion of the muleteers at that place, had been part of a well
concerted scheme on the part of the Kakhyen chiefs to attack and
plunder our baggage. Our escape from this danger was attributed by the
chief to “a supernatural power against evil, given as a reward for good
deeds in former existences.”
As an energetic trader, he was most anxious to co-operate heartily in
reopening all the trade routes, his especial object, as was natural,
being the restoration of the central or embassy route, which had been
closed for some years by feuds between the Kakhyens of the hills on the
southern side of the Tapeng and the Burmese officials. The cause of
quarrel was stated to have been an unprovoked attack, on the part of
the Burmese, on a few Kakhyens.
The tsawbwa possessed great influence over the Kakhyen chiefs through
whose territory this route passes, an instance of which was speedily
given by the arrival of the chief of Namboke, accompanied by his
pawmines, and a strong armed guard, the chief and his officers being
mounted on ponies. As soon as he saw Sladen, he went down on one knee,
in the most respectful manner of greeting, and recalled himself to his
recollection as having visited us at Bhamô and received a present of
a head-dress. This chief scarcely resembled a Kakhyen, his naturally
Tartar-like cast of countenance being heightened by his Chinese
skull-cap and dress. After remaining one night and expatiating on the
advantages of the embassy route, he set out for home, bearing a letter
from Li-lot-fa to all the Kakhyen chiefs, which the pawmines were
to carry forward, inviting them to come in and arrange for our safe
progress to Bhamô.
The bazaar or market, which is held every fifth day, took place on
the 12th. There are no shops or shopkeepers, except where the Chinese
reside, among the Shans, and all sale or barter is necessarily
conducted at these regular markets or fairs, which are thronged by the
people of the valley and adjacent hills. The Hotha fair was held on a
grassy slope, about half a mile distant from the town. There were no
permanent or temporary stalls, the vendors simply sitting down in long
lines with their goods before them. One section was devoted to the
sale of sword blades, the manufacture of which is a speciality of this
valley, and another to the wooden scabbards and handles. After buying
two fine blades for four shillings each, I was assured that the vendor
had charged one-third over the value.
Another quarter was devoted to the sale of samshu, and close by it were
the _restaurants_, where the hungry customers refreshed themselves
with hot pork, vermicelli, or an article exactly like it, various
vegetables, and peas, all hot and nicely served in little white bowls.
The butchers’ quarter was amply supplied with pork and beef, and fowls
and ducks were plentiful. Long lines of Kakhyen women from the hills
offered for sale joss-sticks, pears, apples, plums, peaches, mustard
leaves, and a variety of hill vegetables, along with basketfuls of
nettles, as food for the swine, which are an invariable adjunct of a
Shan household.
In the centre of the market, on a double row of stalls, were displayed
various kinds of Shan cloth, Shan caps, Chinese paper, rice cutch,
flint, and lime, which are brought from Tali-fu, white arsenic, yellow
orpiment, &c. In another quarter, English green and blue broadcloth was
selling at twenty shillings per yard, along with red flannel, for which
the Kakhyens have an especial affection. It seemed to us, however,
that, although the price was high, a very few pieces would “glut the
market.”
Indigo, the universal dye of the dark blue-clad Shans, Kakhyens, and
Chinese of Western Yunnan, also had its own quarter. The fair was
thronged with people, the elder busy chaffering over their few wares,
and the younger strolling about and gossiping. Almost all were clean
and well-dressed, and there was an absence of the poverty-stricken
class, which had been so numerous in the various towns of the Sanda
valley, all appearing to be well-to-do, to judge from their appearance.
The women, as a rule, were little and rather squat, with round, flat,
high-cheek-boned faces, and slightly oblique eyes. Some of the younger
women, with fair skins and rosy cheeks, might have been accounted
good-looking, but were disfigured by the strange custom of dyeing the
teeth black, which is the fashion among Shans of the better class. The
dye is probably a preparation of cutch, and, according to the tsawbwa,
the custom originated in a desire to preserve the teeth from decay.
For the first time we noticed the peculiar and picturesque dress of the
Chinese Shan women. The men, with the exception of an occasional red
turban, were dressed in the universal dark blue. The costume of the
Hotha Shan women only differed from that remarked in the Sanda valley
in the prevalence of dark green jackets and the number of large silver
hoops worn round the neck.
It will be well here to summarise, even at the risk of repetition,
our observations on the Shan inhabitants of these valleys, who belong
to the Tayshan or Great Shans of the Tai race, the branches of which,
under different names, are found extending to the eleventh parallel,
their various states being tributary to Siam, Burma, or China. The
Shan population where it has been absorbed into the Burmese kingdom
has become assimilated in language and customs with the dominant race,
from which they can scarcely be distinguished. Throughout the valley of
the upper Irawady above Bhamô, but with the Kakhyen hills interposing
their stratum of hill tribes between them and their brethren of the
Chinese states, the Shan element predominates, though contending with
the wilder Singphos to the west of the valley. The inhabitants, though
speaking Burmese, still preserve the Shan language, and retain the
physical and other characteristics of their race.
The little states of Manwyne and Sanda, Muangla, Muangtee, Muangtha,
or Hotha and Latha, and Muangwan and Muangmow, which lie on the right
bank of the Shuaylee, are the remains of the Koshanpyi or Nine Shan
States, forming the chief component parts of the Shan kingdom of Pong,
conquered by the Chinese in the fourteenth century. Bhamô or Tsing-gai,
with the country extending to Katha, or perhaps to Tsampenago, and the
upper part of the valley of the Irawady, with Mogoung as its chief
town, were the last remaining independent remnants of this state, and
have been included in Burma since the annexation by Alompra in 1752 of
the semi-independent state of Mogoung.
It seems most probable that the walled Chinese town of Muanglon
represents Muang Maorong, the ancient capital of the Pong kingdom,
and the Chinese Shan states of Sehfan and Muangkwan, and possibly the
state of Kaingmah, which is reckoned among the Koshanpyi, are under
the jurisdiction of its Chinese governor, as the states we visited are
dependent on Momien. Throughout Yunnan, and, according to Garnier, as
far as the confines of Tong-king, the Tai race is widely diffused.
The names of towns and districts seem to indicate that this region
of lofty hills and great valleys was formerly the seat of the Shan
kingdom, and still--though intermixed with the wild hill tribes, and
the descendants of the Chinese colonists, who were settled in the
newly acquired conquests--the Shans, under the name of Pa-y, hold their
ancient ground. Mons. Garnier mentions that at Muang-Pong he found
villages peopled with Tai-ya settlers, who had fled from the Mahommedan
ravages, and settled beyond the borders of Yunnan. His description of
their characteristic dress and silver ornaments would almost exactly
apply to the Chinese-Shans of the Hotha valley. He describes some
Tai-neua[39] refugees met with at Kiang-hung or Xien-hong itself, and
remarks on the resemblance between these two divisions of the Shans.
As soon as he had passed into the country where the Laotian language
ceased to be understood, on the confines of Yunnan, near Se-mao, “The
inhabitants presented an intermediary type between the Chinese and the
Tai race. This mixed type faithfully represents that of the ancient
population of Yunnan, or that of the Tai, who were conquered by the
Chinese.” And at Yuen-kiang he remarks: “The Tai, whom the Chinese call
Pa-y, are the ancient inhabitants of the country of Muong-Choung, which
is now called Yuen-kiang. They are more numerous and more independent
as the frontier of Tong-king is approached.” Thus the Chinese province
of Yunnan on the one side and the upper portion of the valley of the
Irawady on the other contain a largely preponderating element of
Shan population, their national characteristics, however, gradually
becoming obliterated by the influence of the ruling races respectively.
Owing to their local position, which has preserved their subordinate
independence, the little nest of valleys, cradled in the parallel
secondary ranges which lie between the Salween and the Irawady, has
preserved, almost unmixed, the relics of the ancient Shan kingdom, and
it is with their inhabitants, so far as our observations extended, that
we have to do. It is with some uncertainty that the terms Shans proper
and Chinese Shans are used; not so much as indicating a theory of race
as to serve as a practical distinction between the two divisions,
which, though claiming to be one in race as in language, will be seen
to present curious differences; while the Chinese-Shans, or Sino-Shans,
as some have called them, may, according to the evidence of the French
explorers, really represent the original Tai race more directly than
the Shans of the Tapeng valley and the Irawady valley.
The Shans proper of these valleys are a fair race, somewhat sallow
like the Chinese, but of a very faintly darker hue than Europeans, the
peasantry, as a rule, being much browned by exposure; they have red
cheeks, dark brown eyes, and black hair. In young people and children,
the waxen appearance of the Chinese is slightly observable. The Shan
face is usually short, broad, and flat, with prominent malars, a faint
obliquity and contraction of the outer angle of the eye, which is much
more marked in the true Chinese. The nose is well formed, the bridge
being prominent, almost aquiline, without that breadth and depression
characteristic of the Burman feature. The lower jaw is broad and well
developed; but pointed chins below heavy, protruding lips are not
infrequent. Oval faces laterally compressed, with retreating foreheads,
high cheek-bones, and sharp retreating chins, are not infrequent; and
the majority of the higher classes seemed to be distinguished from the
common people by more elongated oval faces and a decidedly Tartar type
of countenance. The features of the women are proportionately broader
and rounder than those of the men, but they are more finely chiselled,
and wear a good-natured expression, while their large brown eyes are
very scantily adorned with eyebrows and eyelashes. They become much
wrinkled by age, and, judging from the numbers of old people, appear to
be a long-lived race. They are by no means a tall people, the average
height for men scarcely reaching five feet eight, while the women are
shorter and more squat in figure. The only difference between the
Shans and Poloungs, so far as my limited observation went, seems to
be that the latter are darker and smaller; but the Chinese Shans, or
Sino-Shans, of the Muangtha valley differ widely from their congeners.
They are a much smaller race, their little, squat figures and broad,
short flat faces reminding one of Laplanders. The cheek-bones are very
prominent, and their faces are much flatter and shorter than those
of the other Shans. The breadth between the eyes, which are markedly
oblique, is considerable, and the mouths are heavy, with protruding
lips. In the women these characters are more pronounced, and their
complexion strongly resembles that of the Chinese.
In the ordinary attire the Shans, except the Chinese Shans, are almost
uniformly dressed in sombre dark blue, the dye being obtained from the
wild indigo. In full dress, however, the women display an appreciation
of colour which would delight an artist. The peculiar head-dress,
like an inverted cone, has been already alluded to. It consists of a
series of long blue scarves, a foot broad, and of a total length of
forty to fifty feet, wound round and round the head in a huge turban,
towering upwards with a backward slope, like that of the Parsee
head-dress. The folds are arranged in a crescent over the forehead
with most exact precision; the free end, embroidered in gold and silk,
and sometimes adorned with silver pendants, hangs gracefully down the
neck. The hair, left uncovered in the hollow of this structure, is
adorned with silver hairpins, the heads of which are richly enamelled
to represent flowers and insects. The jacket, of blue or green, and
sometimes pink, is short and loose, with a narrow and erect collar.
Thin square plaques of enamelled silver fasten it at and below the
neck, to which are sometimes superadded three rows of large round
silver bosses, enriched with birds and flowers enamelled in various
colours. The loose sleeves are folded back from the elbow, displaying
massive silver or silver-gilt bracelets. A tight thick skirt of cotton
cloth, deeply bordered with squares of embroidered silk or satin,
close-fitting leggings, and embroidered shoes, complete the toilette, a
richly variegated cloth being sometimes worn as a girdle. A Shan lady
thus attired is incomplete without a silver flask-shaped scent-bottle
about three inches across, adorned with silver studs and pendants
terminating in round silver bells, which jingle as the wearer moves.
Silver chatelaines are also worn, and a needlecase formed of a silver
tube, enamelled and studded, enclosing a cushion, which is attached
to the waist. Silver neck-hoops, ear-rings, and rings, which deserve
particular description, complete the adornments of the Shan _belle_,
who, moreover, is seldom seen without her long-stemmed pipe, with its
small bowl of glazed clay.
The male peasants wear a long double-breasted jacket of blue cotton,
buttoned down the right side, often with jade, amber, or silver
buttons. Of the same material are their short wide trousers and thick
turbans, with a long fringe at the free end, which is usually coiled
up with the pigtail on the outside. Long strips of blue cloth wound
round the shins serve as leggings, and their shoes are made of cloth
resembling felt, embroidered with narrow braid and soled with leather.
A very broad straw hat covered with oiled silk serves as an umbrella
against rain or a scorching sun.
The better classes, such as the headmen of the towns, wear long blue
Chinese coats reaching to the ankles, and black satin skull caps
ornamented with Chinese figures worked in gold braid. The little boys
don blue cotton caps, braided, with a red topknot, and garnished with
a row of silver figures of guardian nats. A silver chatelaine, with
a number of little instruments, such as tweezers to depilate the
face, ear and tooth picks, is frequently worn by the men. It hangs
from the button-hole by a long silver chain, ornamented with beads of
jade, amber, or glass, or with grotesque figures of animals carved in
jade or amber. Two essentials in a Shan’s equipment are his dah and
tobacco-pipe. The dah has a blade two feet and a half to three feet in
length, expanding from the hilt to the almost square point, which is
nearly three inches broad. The wooden handle is bound with cord covered
with silver foil, and ornamented with a tassel of goat hair. The wooden
half-scabbard is attached to a ratan hoop worn over the right shoulder.
These dahs are chiefly manufactured by the Muangtha Shans from iron
imported from Yunnan. They use charcoal as a fuel, and a bellows made
of the segment of a large bamboo, with a piston and valve at each end.
They supply all the hill tribes with weapons, and, as before remarked,
resort to Bhamô and elsewhere to work during the winter months. These
weapons exactly resemble those made by the Khampti Shans, and, like
them, are keen and well tempered. The tobacco-pipes are remarkable
on account of their elaborate silver stems, which are frequently a
yard in length, and enriched with enamelled flowers and silver twist.
Sometimes the stem swells at intervals into elongated silver spheres. A
long bamboo stem intervenes between the silver and the bowl of glazed
earthenware. The wealthier Shans frequently use the Chinese hookah, and
the poorer the Chinese brass or iron pipes with small bowls. Tobacco,
home-grown and of very excellent quality, is carried in small round
boxes made of buffalo hide covered with red varnish. They are made in
two halves, the upper overlapping the under, the hide being moistened
and stretched over a wooden mould.
The costume of the Chinese Shan women of Hotha and Latha differs in a
marked manner from that already described. They wear the Shan jacket
and loose trousers like the men, and usually are barefooted. The back
part of the jacket is prolonged to the knees in a half skirt, and
a double Chinese apron in front overlaps it, so as to complete the
dress. Besides the large silver plaques, epaulets are worn, of small
semi-spherical discs, connected by a line of silver buttons from
shoulder to shoulder. The broad waistband of the apron expands behind
into a richly embroidered piece, which is a peculiar characteristic
of this people. A still more distinctive mark is the head-dress, from
which the high turban is absent. The hair is divided and gathered up
on the crown of the head, when it is plaited into the ends of a flat
chignon encircled by a ratan hoop covered with red cloth. This is kept
in position by means of twenty-five to thirty silver pins headed with
thin plates of silver embossed or engraved with leaves and flowers, and
so disposed as to form a silver coronal. Outside this is wound a slight
blue turban, to the pendant fringes of which are suspended a number of
silver rings. In full dress four much larger hairpins, with elaborate
heads eight inches in length and three inches across, are worn. They
are overlaid with silver wire cunningly wrought to represent the stems
and leaves of plants, which are enamelled green, brown, and yellow,
and enriched with flowers in the same material, the petals formed
of red and blue stones, and little silver spheres representing the
unopened buds. Sometimes yet another inner circle of smaller pins, each
headed with a cluster of four small caps, is added; and an elaborate
head-dress forms a circle or an aureole of silver flowers fully a foot
in diameter. The various patterns of hairpins are of the most intricate
construction. The simplest are made chiefly of silver wire and flat
pieces of silver cut into fantastic figures or forms of trailing plants
in full flower, the colours being enamelled in green, blue, purple, and
yellow. Some are wrought in the finest filigree, one beautiful specimen
representing a swan-like bird resting on its outstretched wings among
a bed of flowers. The feathers of the wings are most effectively
wrought in silver wire, and among the leaflets stand up little coils of
silver wire, each terminating in two square cusped discs of silver.
These strongly resemble the capsuled stems of mosses; and the general
appearance of these pin-heads suggests that the artist has derived his
inspiration from the study of a grassy sward covered with flowers and
moss; indeed, the most fashionable form of this ornament consists of
two tiers of leaf-work, the uppermost supported on fine wire, while
through its interstices the capsuled stems rise from the lower tier, as
flowers rise above the grass.
This distinctive head-dress of the Chinese Shans seems to characterise
the Pa-y or Tai women in the south of Yunnan. M. Garnier describes
those of Yuen-hiang as wearing long silver hairpins, from the ends of
which hung a profusion of pendants. Their costume consists of a showy
corset with a little jacket over it, a petticoat with a broad coloured
border, and apron; and he particularly describes a high collar made
of red and black stuff, on which little silver studs are arranged in
patterns reminding him of the armed collar of a “bouledogue.” The front
of the vest is also thickly studded with similar ornaments. The Pa-y
ear-rings are of very delicate workmanship, the usual pattern being a
large ring supporting a small square plate with numerous pendants, much
resembling those of the Chinese Shans. The married women of the latter
especially invariably wear a silver or silver-gilt ring, overlaid
with studs or filigree work, to which is attached a jade or enamelled
silver disc. The Chinese Shan girls wear a tube of silver, from which
is suspended an inverted rosette set with a circle of club-shaped
pendants. From the centre of this flower-like ornament hangs a filigree
ball and rosette set with a garnet. The ear ornaments of the Shans
proper are of two kinds, only one of which, worn by the young girls,
can be called an ear-ring--the large circle of silver wire suspending a
flat spiral ornament resembling a favourite pattern of the Roman period
in Europe. There are three forms of the second or of the cylindrical
type, necessitating a large opening in the lobe of the ear, but by no
means so large as the ear ornaments of the Burmese beauties, which are
sometimes an inch and a half in diameter. The first are made of a piece
of bamboo, which is covered with silverfoil, one end being finished
by a piece of cloth, which is effectively embroidered with the green
wing-cases of a beetle, red seeds, and Chinese devices in gold thread.
The second form is a short cylinder of silver, with a cross piece
engraved with Chinese figures. The third is nearly two inches long,
widening into a disc fully an inch in diameter, and terminating in a
silver knob. The front is composed of open silver filigree.
[Illustration: SHAN HEAD-DRESS, BRACELETS, AND EAR ORNAMENTS.
Fig. 1. Chinese Shan chignon encircled with silver hairpins.
2. Shan silver bracelet.
3. ” ” ” in filigree.
4. ” ” ” enamelled.
5. Chinese Shan girl’s ear-drop.
6. 7. Shan woman’s tubular ear ornaments.
8. Shan finger ring.
9. Silver tube for enclosing a needle cushion.]
These silver ornaments will be seen to be thoroughly characteristic of
the Shans, who, it need not be said, are expert silversmiths, their
simple tools consisting of small cylindrical bellows, a crucible,
punch, graver, hammer, and little anvil. In the Sanda valley the
phoongyees are the chief artificers; but in Hotha the trade is still
confined to the laymen. Their enamels, of which we could not
discover the materials, are very brilliant, and employed with beautiful
effect in the floral patterns, which form the principal stock of
designs. The only other forms of ornamentation, the rope-shaped fillets
and rounded studs or bosses, singularly resemble those found on the
diadems and armlets of the early historical periods of Scandinavian
art. The plain torques or neck rings in use, especially among the
Hotha Shans, only differ from the ancient Irish type by their more
rounded form, and by the pointed ends being bent outwards, in lieu of
being expanded into cymbal-shaped faces. Another kind of torque is of
the same shape, but covered with leaf ornaments and cones in filigree
and enamel alternating with red and blue stones or pieces of glass.
Torque-like hollow rings, covered with floral enrichments, are worn as
bracelets; sometimes they are gilt with very red gold and enamelled, a
jewel being usually set in the centre. Another form is a silver hoop,
nearly two inches in breadth, with rounded edges and filigree borders,
most elaborately set with floral rosettes of three circles, rows of
leaves, brown, green, and dark purple, centred by a large silver stud.
The finger-rings are generally made of rope wire, either with conical
or flat spiral coils; but one curious type is formed of an oblong
ornamented silver plate an inch long, and as broad as the finger. A
half-circle from either side enables it to be worn on a finger of any
size. Many of the rings are jewelled with garnets, moonstones, and
pieces of dark green jade, but no valuable gems were observed. The men
commonly wear ordinary Chinese rings of jade or amber.
The women are constantly engaged in weaving and dyeing, for the yarn
from home-grown cotton is spun, dyed, and woven by their industrious
fingers. They are adepts at needlework and silken embroidery; and
all the clothes worn are made and ornamented by the women of each
household. Straw-plaiting is another of their industries, and the
broad-brimmed straw hats made in the valley would compete with the
finest Leghorn fabrics. Another art in which they excel, apparently
borrowed from the Chinese, is the manufacture of elaborate ornaments
for the hair from the sapphire blue feathers of the roller bird
(_Coracias affinis_). These are fastened on paper cut to imitate
wreaths and flowers; and with copper wire, gold thread, and feathers,
laid on with the greatest nicety, very pretty simple ornaments are
produced, which are often brightened by the addition of a ruby or some
other gem.
The stuffs woven in a loom similar to that in use by the Kakhyens are
of all degrees of texture, the finer kinds, used for jackets, being
very soft, and usually figured with large lozenge-shaped patterns
of the same colour. A marked feature of the textile fabrics and
embroideries of the Shans, and indeed of their ornamentation generally,
is the reproduction of conventional patterns, handed down from their
forefathers without any attempt to improve or vary them. The Shan
designs of the nineteenth century probably are identical with those of
the fourteenth, and are simple modifications of the lozenge, square,
and stripe; these modifications may be, and are, almost endless, and
the combinations of the elementary forms most intricate, while the
ground of the fabrics in which the patterns are wrought is usually
covered with numerous small truncated almond-rounded lozenges,
interspersed with figures of the sacred Henza, or Brahminical goose.
The chief beauty of their textile fabrics consists in the wonderful
grouping and harmony of the colouring; and in the employment of their
vivid full and half tints of blue, orange, green, and red, they are all
but unrivalled artists.
The great body of the Shan population is engaged in agriculture; and
as cultivators they may take rank even with the Belgians. Every inch
of ground is utilised; the principal crops being rice, which is grown
in small square fields, shut in by low embankments, with passages and
floodgates for irrigation. During the dry weather, the nearest stream
has its water led off, and conducted in innumerable channels, so that
each block, or little square, can be irrigated at will. In the valley
of the Tapeng, advantage is taken of the slope of the ground to lead
canals to fields several miles away from the point of divergence. At
our arrival in the beginning of May, the valley from one end to the
other appeared to be an immense watery tract of rice plantations
glistening in the sunshine, while the bed of the river was left half
dry by the subtraction of the water. Tobacco, cotton, and opium are
grown on the well-drained slopes of the hills, the two former for
home use; but the white-flowered poppy is cultivated to supply the
requirements of Chinese, Kakhyens, and Leesaws. A considerable quantity
of Shan opium finds its way to Bhamô, and thence to Mandalay, and also
to Mogoung, whence it is distributed among the Singphos.
The land is tilled by a wooden plough with an iron share, drawn by a
single buffalo. Men and women work together, but the heavy tillage is
done by the former, the weaker sex being only employed in weeding and
thinning. Vegetables are grown round every house, and form an important
article of diet. Numbers of fine cattle and pigs are reared and killed
for eating, their flesh, with all kinds of poultry, being largely
used, and sold freely in the markets, for the Shans have no Buddhist
prejudices. The milk, however, is not used. The entrails of animals, as
among the Burmese, are much used in Shan _cuisine_; a very fair soup,
made of the intestines of fowls, being a favourite dish of the Hotha
tsawbwa, who insisted, when dining with us, on substituting it for our
soup, which he did not approve. The large larvæ of a giant wasp, and
stewed centipedes, are Shan dainties which we could not appreciate.
Their principal stimulant is _samshu_, or rice-spirit; but during our
stay amongst them, we observed scarcely an instance of intoxication.
The vice of drunkenness and the licentiousness common amongst all their
neighbours seem almost unknown among this industrious self-supporting
race. They are social and good-humoured, but by no means as jovial as
the Burmese, compared with whom they are a quiet, rather sedate people.
As a rule, each man is content with one wife, but polygamy is allowable
to those who are wealthy enough; thus the Hotha chief had several
wives at various villages. All that is required to contribute a valid
union is the sanction of the parents, mutual consent, and interchange
of presents between the contracting parties, but no religious rite
whatever is observed on the occasion of the wedding.
They are a musical race, and possess many simple wild airs, which
they play on stringed and wind instruments. Of the former, which are
played like a guitar, one is about three feet in length, with three
strings and a broad sounding-board; another is only half the size, the
sounding-board being a short drum-like cylinder, with a snake skin
stretched across it. This instrument was also a great favourite with
the Momien people, and is probably of Chinese origin. The most usual
wind instrument is a sort of flute, made of bamboo, with a flask-shaped
gourd as mouthpiece, and the sound is full, soft, and pleasing. The
long brazen trumpets, which are a sort of state appendage of the
tsawbwa, are only blown to announce his arrival, or to do honour to his
guests.
The chiefs, although paying an annual tribute to the authorities at
Momien, exercise full patriarchal authority in their states; assisted
by a council of headmen, they adjudicate all cases, civil and criminal.
The tsawbwa is the nominal owner of all land, but each family holds a
certain extent, which they cultivate, paying a tithe of the produce to
the chief. These settlements are seldom disturbed, and the land passes
in succession, the youngest son inheriting, while the elder brothers,
if the farm is too small, look out for another plot, or turn traders;
hence the Shans are willing to emigrate and settle on fertile lands,
as in British Burma. The chiefs naturally do not approve of this,
and it is to be feared that the recent emigration of these Shans to
our provinces has in the last few years excited the ill-will of the
tsawbwas against the British officials, whom they accuse of inducing
their people to desert them. In ordinary times of peace and prosperity,
the inhabitants of these valleys must have been very thriving, and the
chiefs very wealthy, tokens of which appeared in their haws, though
most of them had been much injured before our visit; but at this
time they were certainly impoverished, and, without doubt, many of
the valuable articles of dress and jewellery offered to us for sale
belonged to the chiefs and their families. The great anxiety of the
peaceable Shans was for the restoration of order, and though they all
earnestly longed for the re-establishment of the imperial Chinese
_régime_, they were, in the meantime, most ready to befriend those
whose mission was to establish a route for commerce, necessitating
peace and order as the conditions of its maintenance.
We found it impossible to obtain a guide to the southern side of the
valley of Hotha beyond the Namsa, which is a very small mountain
stream. The tsawbwa declared that the bridge had been washed away, and
that the road was deep in mud; but he himself planned an excursion for
us to visit another house belonging to him at Tsaycow, some miles to
the east of Hotha. The chief set off early in the morning to prepare
for our reception, and we followed at midday. The road, paved with
boulders, and near the villages with long dressed slabs of granite,
wound over the grassy spurs, the slopes of which were cultivated
with tobacco and cotton. The mountain streams, running over rocky
channels encumbered by large boulders particoloured with green moss
and lichens, were spanned by bridges of gneiss or granite, those
over the larger streams being handsome arched structures, twenty to
twenty-five feet in span, with a rest-house at either end, and the
parapets often guarded by stone dragons. Each village was approached by
a long narrow lane arched by trees and feathery bamboos, terminating
in a picturesque gateway, and bordered by stone drinking fountains.
The houses were embowered in trees, pear, apple, chestnut, peach, and
sweet lime, forming orchards round the villages, and the triple roofs
of substantial khyoungs and occasional pagodas crowning the knolls,
completed the rural picture, with a background of green slopes of
grazing land running up to the rearward wall of mist-clad mountains.
One small pagoda, called Comootonay, differed altogether from the
ordinary Burmese type, in its peculiar shape and attenuated long spire,
which rose to a height of fifty feet. Five miles of pleasant riding
past a succession of thriving and picturesque villages, orchards, and
khyoungs, brought us to Tsaycow, or Old Hotha, a much larger place than
the present town of that name, embowered in trees, and delightfully
situated on a spur at the opening of a little dale, down which flowed
a fine mountain stream. The chief’s house, formerly his head-quarters,
which was built in the Chinese fashion, though smaller than our
residence, had the advantage of a better site and superior condition,
the private apartments especially being richly decorated with elaborate
carvings. In the inner reception hall we were welcomed by the tsawbwa,
and, after being refreshed with tea, were conducted by him to see two
khyoungs, one Shan and the other Chinese, built, after his own designs,
one above the other, on the hillside behind the village. The Chinese
temple, which occupied the highest site, was enclosed by a high wall,
with a gate leading into a courtyard bordered by cloisters on either
side, while a raised pavilion occupied the end, opposite to which,
and above all the other buildings, towered the shrine, crowning the
highest of two terraces faced with granite. Covered staircases led
from the cloisters to the higher level, each terminating in a little
rounded tower containing a large bell. The temple occupied the whole of
the terrace, with verandahs, paved with stone, to the front and rear.
A little stream bubbled up into a small basin in the front, and then
formed a cascade from terrace to terrace into the court below. Two
entrances led from the verandah into the temple, between which a large
window exactly faced the altar-piece. On a table in front of the window
stood vases with incense and flowers, and a number of boxes containing
the library. The altar-piece, an admirable example of open woodcarving,
about twenty feet high, resembled a huge triptych, containing three
recesses about ten feet from the ground. It was enclosed by a simple
wooden railing four feet high, and before it stood a small table,
whereon incense is burned, and at either end two others, with a wooden
fish and drumstick on each. The three recesses contained life-sized
figures, each with a gauze curtain in front. A beam projecting to the
front wall from either side supported two life-sized figures, and along
each side wall eighteen small figures were ranged on a platform, with
a vase and joss-sticks before each. The tsawbwa acted as cicerone,
and explained that the central figure was Chowlaing-lon, the king of
all nats, who had existed before Gaudama. The figures on either side
are called Coonsang, and act as his pawmines or agents, to execute
his orders; and the four standing figures are the rulers of the four
great islands or quarters of the globe, who keep a record of all the
actions of their subjects. After death each man is brought before
Chowlaing-lon, and by him consigned to the Coonsang, who, according
to the report given by the rulers, make them over to one or other of
the thirty-six nats representing the army of the Thagyameng, ranged in
order along the sides. One of these nats was represented with six arms,
armed respectively with a belt, bow, arrow, club, and dagger, while one
hand was empty as though ready to seize a victim. All the others were
in different attitudes, each holding some kind of weapon, and having
a long scarf-like band round his neck and shoulders, reaching to the
ground, to serve as wings, recalling to our minds the flying people
visited by Peter Wilkins.
The lower or Shan khyoung consisted of two oblong buildings on
different levels. A grim-looking nat or Beloo guarded the door leading
into the temple, where sat three colossal Buddhas, the Past, Present,
and Future. On either side were two guardian figures, one mounted on
a pigmy elephant, and the other on a mongrel monster, half lion and
half tiger. At the feet of the Buddhas was a well executed figure of a
tortoise; while vases of incense and sweet-smelling flowers placed on
a table sent up their sweet odours to the calm impassive faces above
them. At each side of the building, sat a row of life-sized figures,
cleverly executed, and one especially, representing a shrivelled old
man, with his chin resting on his knees, and the flesh tints admirably
given, displayed real artistic power. In the lower temple, which
was open in front, the middle of the central wall was occupied by a
figure of Kwan-yin holding the child, and surrounded by a number of
small adoring figures sculptured in relief; above her head a parrot,
holding a rosary in its bill, was perched on a twig. On the other side
of the wall, so as to be back to back with the Chinese goddess, sat a
colossal Buddha flanked by two gigantic figures, one of which held a
rat. The tsawbwa declared that all these temples had been erected in
honour of Buddha; and he narrated the history of Kwan-yin, who was the
daughter of an ancient emperor of China, but, assuming the white robe
of a rahanee, spent her days in a forest, devoted to pious meditation.
The mixture of ancient polytheism and Buddhism in the story was an
apt illustration of the confused form of religion represented in the
shrines.
Our visit was concluded by a sumptuous dinner at the tsawbwa’s house,
the great point of etiquette apparently being to leave no part of
the table unoccupied by dishes, save a margin for the guests to use
their chopsticks. After dinner the tsawbwa introduced the subject of
religion, and was much surprised at our not believing the doctrine of
successive existences. Speaking of Gaudama, he distinguished him from
Buddha, and was anxious to learn from us in what country he, Gaudama,
was at present living.
The Buddhism of the Shans is, as has been already noticed, marked
by great laxity among the phoongyees, and the most active religious
feelings among the people belong to the belief in and worship of nats.
During our stay, on the 13th of August, the fire festival of the Shans
was celebrated, and about twenty bullocks and cows were slaughtered
in the market-place; the meat was all speedily sold, part of it being
cooked and eaten, while the remainder was fired out of guns at sundown,
the pieces which happened to fall on the land being supposed to become
mosquitoes, and those in the water leeches. Immediately after sunset
the tsawbwa’s retainers began to beat gongs and blow long brass
trumpets; after dark, torches were lit, and a party, preceded by the
musicians, searched the central court for the fire nat, who is supposed
to lurk about at this season with evil intent. They then prosecuted
their search in all the apartments and the garden, throwing the light
of the torches into every nook and corner where the evil spirit might
find a hiding-place. Three other festivals are annually devoted to the
nats of rain, wind, and cold.
The eclipse of the sun which happened on the 18th of August, commencing
at 9.5 A.M., had been predicted by us at various places, and here also.
The diminution of light was, as the Shans admitted, not sufficient
to have called their attention to it, unless forewarned. The tsawbwa
showed his usual intelligence by being able to use the telescope. As
soon as he had satisfied himself that the eclipse had really commenced,
he ordered his saluting guns to be fired, and the long trumpets to be
blown, while, at his earnest request, we were obliged to order out the
police guard to fire two volleys; all this was to terrify some monster
that was threatening to devour the sun. The chief, however, listened
attentively to our endeavour to explain the natural causes of the
phenomenon, and even imparted them to the excited crowd which flocked
eagerly about us.
Some of the khyoungs in the valley were altogether sacred to the
Chinese deities Kwan-yin and Showfoo, the Prah, or god of the Yunnan
Chinese, with various evil nats and famous teachers, such as Tamo, to
the utter exclusion of any trace of the Buddhistic creed.
At a dilapidated little temple close to Hotha, dedicated to certain
nats, the entrance was guarded by two horses, each with a horseman
standing at its head. Similar figures of horses, tended by a man in
Tartar costume, occurred in the khyoung at Muangla, and the reader may
remember that the Manwyne women paid daily offerings of rice to the
horse’s image in the khyoung at that town. The fact that the Shans are
a race of horse-breeders and horsemen may account for the preservation
of this curious relic of their pristine religion, along with the
primæval propitiation of the dangerous nats, or powers of earth, air,
and water.
The principal Buddhist khyoung of the valley, situated in the pretty
walled village of Tsendong, is perfectly free from any admixture of
their older superstitions. The tsawbwa, who acted as our cicerone,
seemed very proud of the temple, which was declared to be very old.
It is built on a low stone platform, surrounded by a narrow terraced
verandah, the whole of the outside being roughly but skilfully
carved. It contained richly gilt book cabinets, and elaborately
carved altar-pieces, and might have been transported entire from the
Burmese plains. The remains of an old and venerated phoongyee, who
had died two months previously, lay in state under a double-roofed
temporary pavilion, close to the khyoung. The sarcophagus, supported
on two dragons, was a handsome structure, surmounted by a richly
carved miniature pagoda. The ground had been levelled, and was kept
scrupulously clean, and the whole enclosure carefully railed off.
On a neighbouring terrace stood an octagonal zayat, enclosing a
small pagoda. It was built almost entirely of wood, with five roofs,
diminishing in size upwards, and capped by a golden htee. A series of
open windows of carved wood-work ran round the building, and over each
were two beautifully carved panels, representing a single object, as
a bird, deer, plant, or bat. Each roof was raised on three projecting
bearers, terminating in grotesquely carved heads. The enclosed pagoda
was a square structure, with a delicately tapered spire reaching to
the interior of the highest roof.
The presence of these purely Burmese buildings in the Hotha valley,
while pagodas are altogether wanting in the valley of the Tapeng, is
probably due to the vicinity of the ancient embassy route, but in 1769
the Burmese appealed to the existence of pagodas in this valley as a
proof of their ancient right to include it within their boundaries.
The heavy rains which continued during our stay at Hotha delayed our
progress, and at the same time prevented more complete explorations of
the neighbourhood.
As already mentioned, we were to proceed over the Kakhyen hills, at
the western end of the valley, the plan of crossing into Muangwan
being impracticable, so far as we were concerned, although a Burmese
surveyor was detached to examine the route. As before stated, we were
debarred from even visiting the southern heights, but Mr. Gordon and I
made an excursion to the eastern head of the valley, where it is closed
in by a transverse ridge connecting the two ranges. A good road led
to the ridge, which was crossed by a narrow track, the highest point
not being more than four hundred feet above Hotha. A steep declivity
led down into another valley, probably branching off from Muangwan.
To the east-north-east, another valley could be descried, leading in
the direction of Nantin, which lies one thousand one hundred feet
lower. Through the mist and heavy rain, glimpses of high hills were
dimly seen on every side, and we concluded that the Hotha valley, as a
thoroughfare to Momien via Nantin, would present more difficult heights
to be surmounted than the valley of the Tapeng.
We learned that from Old Hotha a road led to Muangla, reaching the
Sanda valley by a gorge of lower elevation and more gradual descent
on the northern slope than the route by which we had climbed up and
scrambled down in our passage from Manwyne. Even an excursion, however,
beyond the limits of the Hotha valley was rendered impossible by the
presence of Li-sieh-tai and his force in Shuemuelong. We accordingly
addressed ourselves to quit the pleasant quarters at Hotha, and recross
the Kakhyen hills to the Burmese plain, all the chiefs of the hill
tribes along the route having attended in person or by deputy at a
meeting on August 22nd, when satisfactory arrangements had been made
for our transit.
[38] _Analysis by Dr. Macnamara._
One gallon contains:--
49·7 grains of solid matter;
3·6 ” salts of alkalies, chloride of sodium;
19·7 ” silica, earthy salts, and oxide of iron;
Traces of sulphuric, carbonic, and phosphoric acids;
No nitric acid.
[39] _Thaï-neua_ is applied to the northern Shans. ‘Voyage
d’Exploration,’ p. 409.