HOUSE FOR DR CUSHING BUILT IN TWO DAYS—FUMIGATION AND
DISINFECTION—BRIBERY AND EXTORTION AT FRONTIER
GUARD-HOUSE—TRAVELLERS DELAYED—MR WEBSTER’S JOURNEY—TRADE BETWEEN
ZIMMÉ, BANGKOK, AND MAULMAIN; ENHANCEMENT OF PRICES—COMPARISON
BETWEEN RUSSIA AND SIAM—OPPRESSION AND TYRANNY CAUSES CUNNING AND
DECEIT—SIAMESE THE GREATEST LIARS IN THE EAST—AN AMUSING INTERVIEW
WITH A PRINCE—RELIGIOUS BUILDINGS IN ZIMMÉ—DESCRIPTION OF
MONASTERIES—BARGAINING WITH AN ABBOT—PALM-LEAF BOOKS—EVIL PRACTICES
OF MONKS—SENTENCING THE DESCENDANTS OF CRIMINALS TO SLAVERY—BEGGING
FOR MEALS—GIVING, A PRIVILEGE—RULES FOR THE ACOLYTES—SHAVING THE
HEAD AND EYEBROWS—TEACHING IN A MONASTERY—LEARNING MANNERS.
A few days before my return to Zimmé the Rev. Mr Martin arrived with his
wife from Bangkok, and occupied the half of Dr M‘Gilvary’s house which
had formerly been placed at my disposal. It was therefore arranged that
Dr Cushing should be placed in a house in Dr Peoples’ grounds, where he
could receive proper nursing and medical attendance. This building had
been erected as soon as it was known that Dr Cushing was suffering from
smallpox. With plenty of labour and materials at hand, such a house,
built of bamboos, with mat walls and flooring and thatched roof, can be
easily completed in two days.
A wealthy Chinaman who had for some years worked the Government spirit
and opium farms, and owned a large vacant teak-built, shingle-roofed
house near the Presbyterian Mission, had courteously placed it rent free
at the disposal of Mr Webster on his reaching Zimmé with his wife and
little girl from where we left them at the Shan frontier-post. The house
being very roomy, and the Websters without fear of contagion, half of
this building was handed over for my use.
On seeing my elephant halt outside his garden, Dr M‘Gilvary came out to
bid me welcome and let me know what arrangements had been made. He
advised me to have a grand fumigation of myself, servants, and things,
and to be revaccinated as soon as possible. He had already been
purified, and was going at once to Dr Peoples to be vaccinated.
On reaching the monopolist’s house, I was welcomed by Mr and Mrs
Webster, and by little Sunshine their daughter, but would not shake
hands with them until I had been fumigated and freshly rigged out. I at
once sent out for sulphur, and with my boys was soon in a closed room,
surrounded with its fumes. All of our things were disinfected by being
washed with a strong solution of carbolic acid. After my short
quarantine I had tea and a long talk with the Websters, who had been
detained for a week after we left the guard-house, owing to their
conscientious objections to bribing the official in command of the
guard.
This Jack-in-office, therefore, instead of aiding them as was his duty,
had purposely prevented the neighbouring Karen elephant-owners from
hiring their elephants to Mr Webster, all the time telling him that he
could not force the men to let him have the animals. The Christian
Karens accompanying Mr Webster warned him that he would have to get the
elephants through the grasping official, as part of the hire was looked
upon by him as his perquisite, and the Karens dare not hire them without
his leave. Such behaviour on the part of the frontier officials is a
serious hindrance to trade and communication, and should be strongly
represented to the Siamese and Shan Governments. Even when tired out by
Mr Webster’s persistency, and threatened with being reported to the
Zimmé chief and the King of Siam, the official only allowed the Karens
to let him have elephants to carry his things for two short marches, at
the end of which he had to halt for four days to procure a fresh relay.
In the short journey from the guard-house to Muang Haut, he was thus
obliged to change his elephants no less than five times. From a copy of
Mr Webster’s journal, I found this route struck eastwards from the
guard-house, and was the same as that followed by M‘Leod in December
1836.
After tea Mr Webster accompanied me to the Mission dispensary to call on
Dr Peoples and be vaccinated. Although twice vaccinated during my stay
at Zimmé, both operations proved ineffective. This could not have been
due to the lymph, as it took well on Dr M‘Gilvary, notwithstanding that
he had been successfully vaccinated the previous year. I was glad to
hear that Dr Cushing’s attack was a slight one, and that the crisis was
over. On visiting him, he seemed quite cheered up by being in cosy
quarters and under medical supervision, and assured me everything had
been done for his comfort, and that he hoped to be about in a few days,
and able to leave for Bangkok.
Early the next morning I called on Mr Wilson, who had taken great
trouble in finding out the prices of various articles at Maulmain,
Bangkok, and Zimmé, and the cost of conveyance. From the written
statement made by him it appeared, by the difference in prices, that
articles sent from Zimmé to Maulmain were enhanced on arrival according
to the following percentages: Elephants, 25 per cent; bullocks, 100 per
cent; ponies, 70 per cent; embroidered silks (one grade), 122⅔ per cent;
embroidered silks (another grade), 100 per cent; embroidered cotton
cloth, 150 per cent. Imports to Zimmé from Maulmain were enhanced on
arrival as follows: Gold-leaf, 75 per cent; gold cloth, 15 per cent;
broad cloth, 100 per cent; flannel, 32½ to 50 per cent; copper
_chatties_ (or pots), 100 to 133⅓ per cent. Exports from Zimmé to
Bangkok were enhanced on arrival as follows: Ivory tusks, 30 to 45 per
cent, according to size; stick-lac, 42⁷⁄₂₃ per cent; gum-benjamin, 13⅓
per cent; opium, 41³⁄₁₇ per cent; cutch, 22⅔ per cent; hides, 46⅔ per
cent; horns, 46⅔ per cent; bee’s-wax, 15½ per cent; honey, 100 per cent;
nitre, 33⅓ per cent.
Imports from Bangkok to Zimmé include figured muslins, red muslins,
bleached and unbleached muslins, guns, powder, shot, caps, lead,
bar-iron, nails, sulphur, kerosene oil, candles, Chinese crockery,
matches, cotton yarn, green flannel, which were enhanced at Zimmé by
between 12½ and 67 per cent above their price in Bangkok—the percentage
varying according to their value, bulk, and weight. Salt, which is a
bulky, small-priced article, is enhanced 510 per cent.
After thanking Mr Wilson, I called on the missionary ladies who shared
the house with him, and exchanged my light literature for some of theirs
that they had read. Amongst the books I thus acquired was ‘Russia,’ by
Sir Mackenzie Wallace, which I had not had the pleasure of previously
reading. I found it a most interesting work, and was much struck with
the strong resemblance that the superstitions and customs of the Finnish
tribes bear to those of the Shan and other people in Indo-China.
Take, for instance, Sir M. Wallace’s description of the old religion of
the Finnish tribes, and compare it with the superstitions still reigning
in Eastern Asia—particularly in China and Indo-China. Then look at the
similarity between the power possessed by the Khozain, or Head of the
Household in Russia, and that of the Kumlung, or Head of the Household
in the Shan States, as described in chapter xii. The laws of
inheritance, the procedure for selecting a bride, and the peculiarities
of serfdom and slavery, are likewise strikingly similar in the two
regions.
Even the tyranny and oppression of the upper classes over the serfs in
each country has been similar, and has had a like effect in fostering
the habit of perjury and lying. In chapter xxi. Sir M. Wallace accounts
for the proneness of the Russian peasant to lying and perjury by
stating: “In the ordinary intercourse of peasants amongst themselves, or
with people in whom they have confidence, I do not believe that the
habit of lying is abnormally developed. It is only when the peasant
comes in contact with authorities that he shows himself an expert
fabricator of falsehoods. In this there is nothing that need surprise
us. For ages the peasantry were exposed to the arbitrary power and
ruthless exactions of those who were placed over them; and as the law
gave them no means of legally protecting themselves, their only means of
self-defence lay in cunning and deceit.”
He goes on to say: “When legitimate interests cannot be protected by
truthfulness and honesty, prudent people always learn to employ means
which experience has proved to be more effectual. In a country where the
law does not afford protection, the strong man defends himself by his
strength, the weak by cunning and duplicity. This fully explains the
fact—if fact it be—that in Turkey the Christians are less truthful than
the Mahometans.”
The Siamese, who for centuries have suffered from the _bad_ old rule—
“That they should take who have the power,
And they should keep who can”—
are reputed to be the greatest liars in the East, and pride themselves
above all things upon their cunning and duplicity.
After looking through the young ladies’ albums and library, and talking
over their recent journeys into the district, which were made without
other protection than their own Shan servants, I said good-bye, and
returned home just in time to receive Chow Hoo-a Muang Kyow[14]—the
fourth in rank of the chiefs of Zimmé—the father of Chow Nan, who
conducted us to Kiang Hai.
The Chow came in state, accompanied by fifteen attendants bearing his
gold betel-boxes, water-goblets, and other paraphernalia of rank. On his
ascending the stairs, I rose to meet him and exchange the usual
greetings—“_Chow, sabira?_” (“Prince, are you well?”) “_Sabi, sabi!_”
(“Well, well!”). Having no interpreters—Mr and Mrs Webster being out,
and my Shans in attendance upon Dr Cushing—the remainder of our
conversation was chiefly in dumb show, owing to my knowing only a few
sentences of Shan, and my visitor being acquainted with neither Burmese
nor English. The interview was therefore more amusing and less
instructive than it otherwise might have been.
We, however, got on very well together, sipped our tea, nibbled at
biscuits, smoked cigars, drew the usual map with matches on the table,
and haggled over the lie of the country. I thus managed to extend my
knowledge of the geography of the State—the more so as he frequently
explained himself in Shan, and I was beginning to understand much of the
language used on such occasions, although still very weak in the power
of expressing myself. Then I endeavoured to explain the use of my
surveying instruments, and showed him the sketches I had made during the
journey, and he seemed to be much interested. Whether interested or not,
the visit under the circumstances was evidently rare fun to him; and he
was pleased as a schoolboy would be when I presented him with a watch
and a few other articles.
Zimmé may be said to be a city of temples and monasteries, and has no
less than eighty temples within its walls and suburbs, which were mostly
built during the Burmese _régime_. The monasteries are built in the
Burmese style, and consist of a hall divided into two portions: one part
level with the verandah, where the scholars are taught; and the other
part, where the monks receive their visitors, two feet above the level
of the rest of the building.
When the monastery is a large one, cloisters serving as dormitories, and
separated by a central passage, surround two or three sides of the hall.
In smaller buildings the monks sleep in the hall, and their beds may be
seen rolled up, with those of the acolytes and schoolboys, round their
pillows against the wall.
In the porch of one of the buildings, I noticed fresco-paintings
illustrating the Jataka of Naymee picturing the punishments in the
Buddhist hells for various sins. People were being thrown by black
torturers into the fire, and thrust down with pitchforks; one man was
being bled by a huge leech; another, fastened upright between two posts,
was being sawn in two, whilst a dog was at the same time gnawing at him;
three people, with their elbows fastened behind and their legs in
chains, were being led by a black demon or jailer to punishment; and
there were many other fearful sights.
When the monasteries are built of teak, the posts are sometimes of large
girth, and the floor is raised 8 or 10 feet above the ground. If the
staircase leading up to the broad verandah is of plastered brickwork,
the parapets are sometimes coped with great _nagas_ or dragons, or
otherwise ornamented and finished off at the foot with images of ogres,
_rachasis_, or other fabulous animals. If the staircase is of wood, the
sides, like many other parts of the building, are generally beautifully
and fantastically carved with mythological beings intertwined in the
scroll-work.
On your entering a monastery the abbot does not rise, but, if accustomed
to Europeans, he shakes hands, and calls for a mat for you to sit on,
and three-cornered pillows to rest your back and elbows. After the usual
compliments, and having partially satisfied his curiosity as to your
purpose in visiting the country, where you have been, where you are
going, and as to your age, he will very likely tell you his eyesight is
much impaired, and more than hint that a present of a pair of spectacles
would be acceptable.
If in search of curiosities, you may then express your admiration of the
row of images of Buddha standing on a raised stand against the wall in
the background, and ask permission to examine them. Before the images
you will see offerings of taper candles, flowers, and prayer-flags; and
you will notice perhaps that the largest image is made of alabaster, in
which case it has been carried all the way from the famous quarries at
Moway, which are situated in the range of hills above Sagain in Upper
Burmah. Standing about this image, or on a lower shelf, will be other
images, some of wood or clay covered with gold-leaf, some of silver
having a core of a hard resin, others of soapstone, and some of
terra-cotta, the latter resembling Roman Catholic saints in their
sculptured niches.
If you wish to bargain for any one of these, the abbot will express
himself shocked, and will say that he cannot part with it, as it has
been offered to by the people. If you pull out some silver coins, and
say that you much wish to have the one you have chosen, he will most
likely begin to boggle his eyes, and will perhaps send his scholars off
to play, under the pretence that they are a nuisance to you, and, as
soon as their backs are turned, commence to haggle over the price like
an old Jew. Even when you have come to terms with him, he will, to salve
his conscience, exact a promise from you to treat the image with
respect, for, if not, ill will happen to you as well as to himself.
Then you may notice several bundles of palm-leaf manuscripts at his
side, and two or three manuscript chests near at hand, and express your
curiosity as to their contents, which are generally birth-stories of
Gaudama, or sermons preached by him, both in Pali or else Shan
translations, and explanations by various learned writers. The leaves of
these manuscripts are formed of strips, 2 inches wide and 20 inches
long, cut out of the leaves of the corypha, or book-palm, rendered
smooth and pliable by water and friction. Each collection of leaves is
enclosed between two boards, sometimes beautifully carved and gilded,
with two wooden pegs, one near each end, to keep the leaves in correct
sequence, and to allow them to be raised one after the other as
required. When not in use they are either bound round with a crocheted
ribbon about an inch and a half broad, with the name, titles, and
distinctions of the owner worked on it—or enclosed in a square piece of
silk, often with narrow slips of bamboo worked in to give it stiffness.
Some of the larger monasteries have a handsome building erected in their
grounds, and set apart for a library, in which are to be found, besides
religious books, medical treatises, astrological and cabalistic books,
and some treating of alchemy. Such books are not allowed in the
monasteries in Burmah. In Siam the study of alchemy has led some of the
monks to coin false money. In the Shan States the monks are generally
more lax in their observances and rules than in Burmah, and, if rumour
is to be credited, are frequently more immoral than laymen; but
violations of the laws of chastity are less frequent in Siam than in the
Shan States, as the monks in Siam, on their sin being exposed, are
severely punished.
In Bangkok, when adultery or fornication is proved against a monk, the
culprit is publicly caned, and then paraded round the city for three
days, a crier going before him proclaiming his crime. He, and his
posterity after him to the utmost remote generation, are then condemned
to cut grass for the king’s elephants for life. The woman is condemned
to turn the king’s rice-mill for life, and the same punishment is
imposed upon her posterity from generation to generation for ever.
When a man becomes a monk he dissolves all secular relations, and cannot
be called away to do _corvée_ labour. A husband ceases to be the husband
of his wives, and, by the act, his wives are absolved from all
obligations towards their husband. Even a king on becoming a monk, if
only for a few days, must abdicate the crown and throne during the time
that he is in the monastery, and be recrowned and remarried on returning
to secular life.
In Siam, the only way a _prai-luang_ can escape the three months’
_corvée_ labour exacted from him by his Government master is by
persuading that master to allow him to become a monk. When a monk, his
life is one of ease and often of indolence. Early in the morning, about
daybreak, he is aroused from slumber by the beating of the great gong,
drum, or bell attached to the monastery, and, after washing his face,
puts on his yellow robes, suspends his iron begging-bowl over his
shoulders, hanging under his left arm, and his fruit-bag on his right
elbow, and leaves the monastery, by boat or by land, a little before
sunrise.
As he passes along the river or streets, the charitably disposed stand
opposite their houses with a basin of smoking rice, curry, pork,
venison, eggs, fish, fruit, betel-nuts, seri-leaves, tobacco, and
cheroots. When the monks approach, sometimes as many as 10 or 15 in a
line, the donors salute them reverently. As the first monk approaches,
he removes his upper yellow robe from the hidden begging-bowl, and,
still keeping his eyes on the ground, takes off its conical cover, and
holds it out to receive one or two half cocoa-nut shells full of rice.
Then, after closing his bowl and flinging his robe round it, he extends
his fruit-bag for the remaining donations. The donor then murmurs an
inaudible blessing, and the monk moves on, giving place to his
successor. Thus they proceed from house to house, never making a
request, or giving thanks, or even uttering a word. It is considered a
favour by the people to be allowed to accumulate merit by making these
offerings to the monks. When the monks have collected sufficient for
their day’s requirements, they return to the monastery, where they can
regale themselves upon the food until noon, after which they must fast
until sunrise the next morning. The abbot and other monks of more than
ordinary rank do not beg, but have their daily wants supplied by the
pious in their neighbourhood.
In case a monk requires anything else besides his daily food, he goes at
a later period of the day, and silently stands for a few minutes near
the house of the person he hopes to obtain it from. On seeing the monk,
the person salutes him respectfully, and asks him what he needs. The
monk replies, “My body has met with the necessity” of such a thing,
which he names. If the person is unable or unwilling to present it to
the monk, he bows low before him, at the same time clasping his hands in
front of his face, and says, “Let it please thee, thou lord of favours,
to proceed onward, and bestow thy compassion upon somebody else.” The
compassion, of course, is the privilege of supplying the particular want
of the monk. No monk may, by the rules of his order, ask for anything
until he has been requested to name his requirement.
The inmates of the monasteries are divided into three classes—the monks,
the _nanes_ (or acolytes), and the pupils. The rules or commandments
designed for the monks are 227 in number, and are given by Colquhoun in
his interesting work ‘Amongst the Shans.’[15] The rules for the _nanes_
are as follows: Take no animal life; do not steal; have no venereal
intercourse; do not lie; drink no intoxicating liquor; eat no food after
mid-day until daybreak the next morning; adorn not the body, even with
flowers, nor make it pleasant by perfumery; be not a spectator at
theatrical or musical performances; sleep not on a bed raised higher
than one cubit (19½ inches); touch not silver or gold, or anything which
passes for money.
Youths may be admitted as _nanes_ at any time above seven years of age,
but cannot become monks before being fully twenty years old. To become a
monk a man must pass immediately from being a _nane_. If he has been a
_nane_ at some previous time, he must still become one again, and be
reinstituted, before he can enter the ranks of the monks. Persons can be
admitted as _nanes_ or monks at any time in the year, except from the
first evening of the eighth (Siamese) waning moon until the middle of
the eleventh. The period which includes the rainy months of the year is
termed Wasa, and is the great annual harvest-time for making merit. It
is during this season that the monks may not absent themselves for a
single night from their monastery. More people become monks in the first
half of the eighth month than in any other month of the year.
Previous to being admitted as a monk, or even a _nane_, the candidate
has the hair shaved from his head and eyebrows; and, if he has a beard,
has it plucked out by the roots. This ceremony is repeated twice a month
by the monks and _nanes_, on the day preceding the full and new moon of
every month. The shaving day is called “Wan Kone.”
The pupils are taught by the monks either in the hall of the monastery,
or in a building erected for the purpose in the temple grounds. The
parents select the monk by whom they wish their son to be taught, and
the monk takes his pupils under his special care; and they are fed and
lodged in the monastery. When they have learned to read and write their
native characters, they have to study the Cambodian character in Siam
(the character in which the Siamese sacred books are written), and the
Pali character in the Shan States.
Some of the lads, while in the monastery, learn the first rules of
arithmetic, others medicine, some the sacred books, and all the rules of
manners. In this latter respect our English board schools might well
take a lesson from the rules of the Buddhist monasteries. The rules of
etiquette are called Sekiya-wat, and include the adjustment of their
robes; walking and sitting in a graceful and becoming manner; how to sit
and rise up decently; the attitude of body and mind in which they are to
partake their food; behaviour to their superiors and inferiors, and to
the pagodas and images; how to behave themselves when begging, and when
in the presence of the laity, especially in that of the fair sex.