CHAPTER XXVIII.

MUANG FANG—DESERTED FOR 200 YEARS—PROCLAMATION RESETTLING

THE PROVINCE—POPULATION—SETTLEMENTS OF NGIO OUSTED BY

SIAMESE—LAND YIELDING 250–FOLD—RUINED CITIES—320 RUINED

TEMPLES—PURLOINING IMAGES—MR ARCHER’S REPORT—METHOD OF FORMING NEW

SETTLEMENTS—SEPARATION OF RACES IN THE CITIES—COLONIES OF REFUGEES

AND CAPTIVES—CHINESE SHANS AS LABOURERS—CITY SACKED BY THE

BURMESE—GOVERNOR AND WIFE DROWN THEMSELVES—COST OF CARRIAGE—DR TIGER

THE HUNTER—BARGAIN FOR A DAGGER—SWORN BROTHERS—CAMBODIAN AND KAREN

CEREMONIES—THE AUGURY OF FOWL-BONES—PASSING MERIT BY

COTTON-THREADS—FIRST HAIR-CUTTING IN SIAM—LAO MARRIAGE—VISIT THE

RUINED CITIES—FALLEN IDOLS—PUTTING FUGITIVES IN CHAINS—A

DEER-HUNT—SKETCHING THE HILLS—VISIT TO BAN MEH HANG—OUT OF

PROVISIONS—FEVER AND DYSENTERY—MAHOUT ATTACKED BY VICIOUS

ELEPHANT—SPREADING CATTLE-DISEASE.

The city of Muang Fang, the capital of the province of the same name,

forms part of the ancient city of Viang Fang, and measures 5950 feet

from north to south, and 2700 feet from east to west. It lies 83 miles

from Zimmé, and 1621 feet above the sea, and contained, at the time of

my visit, 250 houses.

The roof of the _sala_ where we put up being out of repair, we sent word

to the governor asking him to have it put to rights, and learned that he

was absent in the district, but that his brother would at once have the

roof seen to. Shortly afterwards, the brother arrived and gave the

necessary instructions. In the course of conversation, he told us that

Muang Fang, after being deserted for over 200 years (according to Mr

Archer’s informant it was destroyed by the Burmese about 1717), was

resettled in 1880 under Chow Rat Sam Pan, a first cousin of the Queen of

Zimmé, who was allowed by the Chow Che Wit to issue the following

proclamation:—

“The Proclamation of Chow Rat Sam Pan Ta Wong, who has received

authority from the Chow Luang (of Zimmé), Chow Oo-Pa Ra-Cha (second

chief), and Wang Na (the whole body of the court or council of

chiefs), proclaims to all people to inform them, that it may be known

everywhere, that on Tuesday of the first month, the seventh of the

waning moon of the civil era 1242, Pee-Ma-Kong, they have given orders

that as Kiang Hsen[17] has already been established, while Muang Fang

is still unpeopled, and the territory is vast for the people to seek a

living, and if they were to think it advisable that the country should

be settled in the same way as Kiang Hsen, it would not be fair, and

because it is undoubtedly proper that it should be settled as our

country; wherefore the Royal authority is granted to me to proclaim

that whosoever wishes, or prefers, to go up and settle at Muang Fang,

there shall be no obstacle thrown in his way. In the case of a serf of

any prince or officer, they, their masters, shall not forbid this;

their lords and officers shall give their consent. The serfs are not

to be hindered from removing, as they will be still engaged in their

country’s service.

“This proclamation does not apply to slaves, temple serfs, the right

and left body-guard of the king, nor to the city watchmen, jailers and

jail-guard, nor to the Ngio-Kolon (the Ngio, or Burmese Shans who

invaded the country with Chow Phya Kolon, and settled there after

being taken prisoners); all which classes are forbidden to leave their

present abodes. But the Ngio who came from Muang Peut, Muang Sat

(Burmese Shan States on the Meh Khoke), in the reign of Chow Luang

Poot-Ta Wong, are not forbidden. Again, when the country is

established, there shall be no restriction thrown in the way of the

people making a living, with the exception of the honey-trees and

forest (teak, &c.), which are to be owned as heretofore. If, however,

fresh honey-trees and forests are met with, they are to be divided

among the rulers.

“If anybody wishes to settle in Muang Fang, let him be enrolled in my

list of names; and let no one forbid them, until they number 1000

fighting-men (freemen between twenty years and sixty years of age). If

more than 1000 apply, the Government has power to restrain them. This

proclamation is made on Sunday, the fifth day of the waning of the

fourth moon in Pee-Ma-Kong 1242, and is submitted to Tow Tun Nun Chai

to carry out.”

This Tow at the time of my visit had become Chow Phya Chai, the head

judge and district officer of Muang Fang. On asking the Chow the

population of the province, he said he could not tell exactly, because

they did not count the women and children, but there were 630

fighting-men upon the list. There were 250 houses in the city, and 411

in the Muang, and each house contained on an average from 7 to 8 people.

This would give a gross population of over 3000 souls.

[Illustration:

_View looking south-west from Muang Fang._

]

He said that the Ngio (Burmese Shans) had held possession of, and

settled in, the upper valley of the Meh Teng ever since 1870; and that

up to the year before, there were some of their villages in the lower

part of the valley of the Meh Fang, but the Zimmé Shans had forced them

to retire from Muang Fang, and meant ultimately to drive them out of

Muang Nyon and Muang Ngam. As these two provinces form part of the

Burmese Shan State of Muang Sat, and have never been included in the

Zimmé possessions, the talk of this Chow must have been either sheer

brag, or the Zimmé Shans intended at that time to provoke and commence

hostilities with their Burmese Shan neighbours.

The land in the province, according to our informant, was very fertile,

yielding fully 250-fold what was sown. The inundation that occurs near

the banks of the river will probably cease when the land nearer the

hills is brought under cultivation, and the water is spread over the

fields by means of irrigation-channels. When giving us the names of the

three ancient cities, Viang Fang, Viang Soop Tho, and Viang Prah, built

touching each other at Muang Fang, he said that the country contained

many ruined cities, and at one time must have been very populous.

Mr Archer, who journeyed through the province in 1887 when on his way to

Kiang Hsen, was of the same opinion as the Chow. In his report he

states:—

“That the valley of the Meh Fang formerly contained a large population

is proved by the most reliable evidence—the number of temples in ruins

strewn close to both banks down to the junction of the Mé Khok (Meh

Khoke); and that the country was well cultivated is shown by the present

stunted vegetation. But the land close to the river is said to be at

present so subject to high floods that no cultivation is possible: this

curious fact may be due to some impediment of recent formation in the

lower course of the river (perhaps fishing-dams). There is, however,

still a large extent of country well suitable to cultivation, and labour

alone is required to bring the province to its former state of

prosperity. I was informed that 320 ruined temples have been counted

within the province, and this number probably includes all; innumerable

figures of Buddha strewn about these ruins are left undisturbed. I may,

by the way, mention as an instance of the wrong impression made on an

important people by unscrupulous travellers, that I was told by some of

the earlier settlers and by officials of the province, that a ‘former

British consul’ had purloined a number of Buddhas from the temples. This

remark referred to a European traveller (Mr Carl Bock), who several

years ago attempted to take away some of these images.

In reference to the reoccupation of States that have been deserted for a

long period of years, Mr Archer makes some interesting remarks. In his

report he says:—

“It is interesting to notice how these settlements are effected by the

Laos (the Siamese call the Shans in their dominions outside Siam proper,

Lao or Lau, which is given in the plural only by Europeans as Laos), as

it may illustrate the manner in which the present capitals of these

States were founded within recent times. The site generally chosen for

the future capital is close to or on the banks of the principal river,

and it is of primary importance that the surrounding country should be a

fertile plain well suitable for rice cultivation. The capitals of these

provinces are, therefore, almost always situated in the midst of a flat

low country, but on ground sufficiently elevated to secure them from

high floods. In the case of Muang Fang, however, the city lies at the

foot of the hills on the Meh Chan, and at a little distance from the Meh

Fang: this position was probably chosen in order to avoid the too heavy

inundations of this river.

“Where the new settlement is on the site of a former city, the old

embankment or wall, if any such remain, is kept as the boundary of the

new town, and in time a wooden palisade, perhaps about 12 feet high, is

put up; later, if the new city has greater pretensions, this is replaced

by a high brick wall, either entirely, as in the case of Nan, or partly,

as in Chiengmai (Zimmé) and Lakhon. The site having been fixed upon, the

laborious task of clearing the jungle is begun; all, or nearly all, the

trees are felled, the roads are marked out, and alongside the settlers

are allowed to choose a piece of the ground. A rough shanty is generally

put up at first, and round it are planted bananas and other

quick-growing plants; the grounds of the old temples are not encroached

upon, and the principal _wats_ (monasteries) are often reoccupied by

priests.

“Many of the new-comers first reside in the capital, but as by degrees

they have opportunities of becoming better acquainted with the

surrounding country, they begin by cultivating the most promising land

in the neighbourhood; others join them, and thus villages are founded;

and when a longer residence and increased population have given a

feeling of greater confidence and security, settlements are gradually

formed farther from the capital. A large body of immigrants, or a number

of families from the same locality, generally form a separate

settlement—especially if they are of different race from the original

settlers; and if they settle in the capital, they usually have a

separate quarter allotted to them.

“This is characteristic of all the settlements in Siam, both in the

larger cities and in the provinces. In Bangkok the inhabitants of the

different quarters have gradually become amalgamated; but not far from

the capital the colonies of former captives of war still retain their

language and customs, and keep up little intercourse with their

conquerors. In the northern country the separation is as complete, and

the town of Chiengmai (Zimmé), for instance, is divided into numerous

quarters, inhabited almost exclusively by people of a different race;

and many of the villages in the province are also colonies of refugees

or captives.

“A settlement of this description entails considerable labour, and it is

curious to note from what a distant source Muang Fang draws its

labour-supply. At the time of my visit (early in 1887) to the province,

most of the hard work of clearing the jungle was done by a band of

several hundred hired labourers. These men belong to a people called by

the Laos, Thai Yai, or Thai Lueng (Chinese Shans from the Chinese Shan

States lying to the east of Bhamo), the inhabitants of the country

tributary to China lying north of the (Burmese) Shan States, close to

Yunnan and Burmah. They had followed the course of the Salween as far as

Mehongson (Muang Houngson on the Meh Pai), the western frontier province

of Chiengmai, and thence had come across country to Muang Fang. Some of

them return to their country with only a year’s earnings, but they are

soon replaced by fresh arrivals. They are said to be better and hardier

labourers than either the Ngios or Laos, and they will probably be

employed with advantage in the construction of public works in Burmah.”

Returning to my conversation with the Chow, he said that the city was

sacked by the Burmese general Soo Too after a siege of three years and

three months—the people escaping to Zimmé. At that time Phya Pim-ma-san

was the Chow Luang (governing chief), and his wife was named Nang Lo

Cha. The night the city was taken, the governor climbed up a tree,

hoping to escape detection; but being espied, was made prisoner, and

fastened up with his wife and two favourite officers. When morning came

they were all missing, and were found drowned in a well which is still

pointed out. This seems to be an adaptation of the story of the Mongol

Prince of Yunnan, who, when the army sent by Hungwu, the first Emperor

of the Ming Dynasty, in A.D. 1381 captured Yunnan-Fu, with his family

and minister drowned themselves in the neighbouring lake.

He told me, with reference to the cost of carriage, that the charge for

bringing each bucket (25 lb.) of rice from Viang Pow to Muang Fang—a

distance of 40 miles—varied between 8 annas in the dry season and 10

annas in the rainy season, which gives an average of 1¼ rupee a ton per

mile, or forty times as much as is charged for conveyance by rail in

Burmah.

As my companions wished to have a hunt after big game, the Chow sent for

a celebrated hunter called Mau Sau, or Dr Tiger. Whilst awaiting his

arrival, Mr Martin noticed that the man who had been sent as a guide

with us from Bau Meh Soon, carried a knife with a handsomely carved

ivory handle. On asking what he would sell it for, the man said that he

had made it himself, and that Mr Martin might have it for 5 salungs (1

rupee and 12 annas). On Mr Martin drawing out several from his pocket,

the man reflected for a while, and then remarked that the Nai was rich,

and yet had only given him 5 salungs; but when Mr Martin remarked he had

given him all he had bargained for, he had nothing to say, and took his

departure.

The hunter gave me a good deal of information about the country, and

indicated the position of the sources of the various rivers. He said he

would gladly take my companions the following day to a place in the

hills where game was plentiful, if Dr M‘Gilvary would arrange with the

governor—who would be back later in the afternoon—for beaters.

On my noticing that several of the men wore pieces of cotton-thread tied

round their wrists, Dr M‘Gilvary told me that it was a bond of

friendship showing that the wearer was a sworn companion to another man.

It is the custom in many parts of Indo-China for men to enter into these

solemn friendships. It exists in Cambodia, and likewise amongst the

Karens and other people. Amongst the Koui, in Cambodia, the ceremony is

performed before the village elders. Five taper candles and five sticks

of incense are lighted to call the spirits to witness the act;

cotton-threads are wound about the wrists of the young men to produce a

mystical tie between them. Holy water is then imbibed by each of the

oath-takers, and the ceremony is concluded. In Forbes’s ‘British Burma’

he gives an account of this ceremony amongst the Karens, which runs as

follows: “There exists a singular institution of brotherhood among them,

and to a certain extent among the Burmans, although I believe the latter

have borrowed it from their wilder neighbours. When two Karens wish to

become brothers, one kills a fowl, cutting off its beak, and rubs the

blood on the front of the other’s legs, sticking on them some of the

feathers. The augury of the fowl’s bones is then consulted, and, if

favourable, the same ceremony is repeated by the other party; if the

omens are still auspicious they say, ‘We will be brothers—we will grow

old together—we will visit each other.’”

The practice of passing merit and mystical influence by the means of

thread from one person to another seems to be of Brahmin origin, and

enters into many ceremonies in Siam. In describing the ceremony of the

first hair-cutting, Dr House says: “The ceremonies begin with the

priests (monks) chanting in chorus their prayers, seated cross-legged on

mats on an elevated platform, a thread of white cotton yarn passing from

their hands around the clasped hands of the kneeling child and back to

them again, serving as a sort of electric conductor to the child of the

benefits their prayers evoke.” Amongst the Lao branch of the Shans, the

passing of cotton round the wrists forms the sole marriage ceremony.

In the afternoon we strolled about the old cities, which covered a great

extent of ground. Numerous ruins of religious buildings testified to the

wealth of the inhabitants in former days. Thousands of costly images,

generally of bronze, representing Buddha sitting, standing, and

recumbent, from life-size to a few inches in height, lay about in all

directions. Some were minus their heads, some had fallen on their faces,

some were half buried in the debris, all were without worshippers and

utterly neglected. The broken fragments showed that the bronze was a

mere shell, for the images were filled with a core of black sand. The

walls and gateways of the ancient cities are fast being destroyed by the

ravages of the pipal tree, and large trees are now growing in the moats.

On returning from our ramble, we found Dr Tiger waiting to conduct my

companions to the Chow Phya, who had now returned. On their return they

said arrangements were being made for a great deer-drive the next day,

when they hoped to get a big bag of game. The Chow Phya had told them

that any settlers at Muang Fang who deserted the place and returned to

their old quarters would certainly be put in chains, as they were now

part and parcel of Muang Fang.

Next morning the beaters came, numbering twenty men, and carrying

thirteen guns. My companions were eager for the sport, and became nearly

tempestuous because they were detained for two or three hours after

daybreak before the whole party was together. At last they were off; Dr

M‘Gilvary and Mr Martin on elephants, and the remainder on foot. For two

hours they journeyed to the north-east, and then left the path. A few

minutes later they came upon an unsavoury odour, and Dr Tiger cocked his

gun and looked sharply about; and then, rummaging in the grass, drew out

the carcass of a deer on which a tiger had been breakfasting. This was

encouraging. A few steps farther, one of the men spied a deer standing

close by in the grass. He took careful aim, but his wretched flint-lock

missed fire, and the deer was off. At the same moment another sprang

from under the feet of Mr Martin’s elephant, and got away unshot at.

[Illustration:

_Junction of the Meh Fang and Meh Khoke valleys._

]

The missionaries then dismounted, and sent the elephants a short

distance away, and took up the stations assigned to them by the hunter.

The drivers then approached in a big semicircle, but nothing appeared,

and my friends again mounted their elephants, to cross some damp low

ground to another part of the plain. Suddenly a deer sprang up close to

Mr Martin, and he fired and missed. Meanwhile the men started another,

which likewise escaped. The projecting hood of the howdah, together with

the presence of the mahout on the elephant’s head, doubtless helped to

spoil the aim of the mounted sportsmen, particularly as the elephants

got excited with the sport. In the next drive one of the men got a shot,

but when he went to pick up his deer it started up and disappeared in

the long grass. After lunch they made tracks homeward. On the way the

hunter got one shot, Dr M‘Gilvary four, and Mr Martin two more, and at

least half-a-dozen deer got away without being fired at. They arrived

tired and hungry, with a good many empty cartridges, but with no game.

In the meantime I had stayed behind to sketch the hills, fix their

positions, and take the diurnal curve from the aneroid barometer and

boiling-point thermometer, and had not the heart to chaff my companions

when they returned with empty bags. The plain of Muang Fang averages 7

or 8 miles in width, and is over 30 miles long.

The next day being Sunday, Dr M‘Gilvary and Mr Martin made it a day of

rest, and stayed behind visiting and preaching to the people, whilst I

journeyed five miles to the north-east to sketch the country from Ban

Meh Hang, where I obtained capital views of the junction of the valleys

of the Meh Khoke and the Meh Fang, the rivers meeting about 15 miles to

the east-north-east. At the same time I got a view of the Loi Tum Tap

Tow, now 22 miles distant, and two other limestone bluffs that jutted up

in the plain.

On my return I proposed to my companions to visit Muang Hang, which was

said to be about three days’ journey due east from Muang Fang, and the

sources of the Meh Ping and Meh Hang, and see where the latter passed

under the hills; but circumstances were against us—our oatmeal,

biscuits, sugar, tea, cocoa, chocolate, kitchen-salt, treacle, and milk,

had all been consumed or appropriated by the nimble-fingered

elephant-men, who seemed to consider that they had a right to feed

themselves surreptitiously at our expense on the route. Vayloo and Jewan

had fever, and Loogalay had dysentery. To put a finishing touch to our

disasters, the driver of the vicious elephant had somehow provoked its

anger, and the animal had knocked him down and tried to kill him with

his tusks. Luckily he had escaped with a few bruises, a damaged hand,

and a grazed side. So we had to give up the extra journey, and settled

to return by Viang Pow and Muang Ken.

[Illustration:

_View up the Meh Fang valley from Ban Meh Hang._

]

A large caravan of cattle was encamped close to us during our stay at

Muang Fang, and had been spreading foot-and-mouth disease through the

country by contaminating every camping-place it halted at. Several of

the animals died of the disease during our stay at the city. There is no

Contagious Diseases Act in force outside our possessions in the East, so

the fell plague would be further spread as the caravan proceeded.

A thousand miles on an elephant in the Shan States · 第 28 / 37 章