Early in January, in the midst of the other discouragements, the

Baptist mission had suffered a great calamity. A fire in the night,

doubtless of incendiary origin, had destroyed their dwelling-houses,

chapel, printing-press――including a large edition just completed of

the New Testament in Siamese――and nearly all their personal effects.

Their loss amounted to ten or twelve thousand dollars. A temporary

house of bamboo and thatch was hastily thrown up, but new dwellings

must be erected, and from exposure to the sun and fatigue in procuring

timber for the rebuilding Dr. Jones was taken ill, and, his

constitution being impaired by a score of years spent in the tropics,

he succumbed to disease on the 13th of September, and passed

peacefully away――an irreparable loss to his mission and to Siam. He

was a man of excellent judgment, piety and culture, and had a rare

mastery of the Siamese language with its curious idioms that made him

most acceptable to the natives as a preacher and writer. His

translation of the New Testament and several tracts that he prepared

attest his scholarship in Siamese and his ability.

Just before this sad event the Rev. William Ashmore and wife, who had

been sent out by the Baptist Board to take charge of the Chinese

department, arrived in Bangkok.

And now the Presbyterian mission obtained at last what it had so many

years sought in vain. An eligible location was tendered them near the

centre of the city, not far below the palace, adjoining one of the

largest wats and in the neighborhood of several others.

About this time the king, with a singular appreciation for an Oriental

monarch of the importance of female education, in a note in which he

says he “desires several ladies who live with him to acquire knowledge

in English,” invited the wives of the missionaries to visit his palace

and alternate in giving regular instruction to his numerous family.

Gladly and with much interest did Mrs. Mattoon, Mrs. Dr. Bradley and

Mrs. Dr. Jones, representing the three missions in the field, enter

upon their work――_the first zenana-teaching ever attempted in the

East_.[2] Twenty-one of the thirty young wives of the king, and

several of his royal sisters, composed the class. During the three

years these labors continued much Christian as well as secular

knowledge was imparted to these secluded ones――_saving_ knowledge, it

was hoped, in the case of one at least, a princess of the highest

rank.

As soon as the rains were over and possession was given of their new

premises, Messrs. Mattoon and Bush proceeded to enclose the ground,

dig trenches for the foundations, purchase rafts of teak-wood logs and

superintend their sawing by hand into the timber and planks required

to put up two plain but convenient brick dwelling-houses. Mr. Bush’s

experience and practical skill here proved of great value. Before the

rains fairly set in, early in June, one house was finished, and Mrs.

Mattoon and family removed into it from the floating house on the

river, lent to them by a friendly prince, which had been their

temporary home while the new building was going up. They had found it

not an undesirable residence, though one memorable dark night, having

been detached from its moorings that it might slip away from a fire

that was raging on a river-bank near, through the carelessness of a

servant it got adrift and carried its inmates off against their will,

with a rapid tide, seven or eight miles down the river before its

progress could be arrested. The truant dwelling, however, with all its

contents undisturbed, with the turn of the tide was brought back to

its old moorings safe and sound.

The other dwelling-house was soon completed and occupied. The mission

having now a home of its own and ample room, in October, 1852, a

boarding-school for Siamo-Chinese boys was opened, and Quakieng, who

was an experienced Chinese teacher, put in charge――the free tuition

the lads would receive half of each day in their father-tongue being,

it was hoped, an inducement that would attract such pupils within the

reach of Christian instruction.

Before the first year ended twenty-seven had been enrolled. All

attempts to gather _Siamese_ boys in a school had failed thus far,

though some individual scholars had been taught, as the wats gave free

tuition to all, and merit was made by providing the priests with their

pupil-attendants.

An interesting, amiable young Hainan Chinese, See Teug by name, had

the year previous been baptized by Mr. Mattoon, in whose family he

long had lived――the first of that people to become a Protestant

Christian――and gave pleasing evidence of his love to his Saviour by

the interest he manifested in bringing his fellow-countrymen to the

knowledge of the gospel. A Sabbath evening-service was held for their

benefit, the new convert acting as Bible-reader and interpreter.

Afterward a Hainan teacher was secured, and for many years a

Hainan-Chinese department of the boarding-school maintained, in the

hope of bringing under saving Christian influences some of the many

Chinese in Siam from the island of Hainan, which had been hitherto

entirely unreached by Protestant missionary effort. A day-school for

the Peguan girls in the neighborhood was started by Mrs. Mattoon, who

had also two or three native girls in her own family under Christian

training.

About this time great numbers came to the houses of the missionaries

for books and conversation on religious matters, fifty or sixty in a

day, attendance upon whom required the whole time of one of the

brethren. Over a thousand Christian books a month were thus put into

the hands of intelligent readers. Young priests and boys from the

neighboring wats were frequent visitors, and as no second volume was

given until they had been questioned on the contents of the first, and

many thus received the whole series of the publications of the

mission, much Scripture truth must have been imparted. So eager were

some of these lads for books that they would swim across the river to

get one, and then swim back with but one hand, holding up the prize

high and dry with the other.

And now followed a time of great outward prosperity――the government

friendly, the missionaries enjoying the respect of all classes, their

schools flourishing, their books eagerly sought. The mission of the

American Missionary Association, as a special token of the king’s

regard for its senior member, Dr. Bradley, was permitted to occupy a

very desirable location at the mouth of the principal canal of the

city, the chief channel of travel west.

In December, 1852, Mr. Bush, whose health required a change, left for

the United States.

The next year Dr. House made a tour of great interest, partly on foot,

partly on elephants, to Korat, an important inland town north-east of

Bangkok, over in the great valley of the Cambodia River, returning by

Kabin, and distributing many books and making known to many a

surprised listener in a wide district of country never before visited

by a missionary, or a white man even, the strange doctrine――strange to

them――of the being of a _living_ God and salvation without personal

merit freely granted for another’s sake. Much of Mr. Mattoon’s time

was now given to the work of making a revised translation of the New

Testament into Siamese.

In 1854 a Mormon missionary found his way to Siam, but, meeting no

encouragement, soon withdrew. The Siamese did not need any urging to

the practice of polygamy.

Prof. Silsby left Siam in May of this year, and Mr. J. H. Chandler and

wife returned, and with them came the Rev. Robert Telford and wife to

assist in the Chinese department of the Baptist mission.

In January, 1855, Dr. Lane of the A. M. A., on account of the health

of his family, and Miss Morse of the Baptist mission, took their final

leave of Siam.

The time was now at hand when Siam, so long secluded and almost

unknown, was to enter more fully into the family of nations by

treaties of commerce and friendship with the great powers of the West.

Sir John Bowring, then governor of Hong Kong, arrived March, 1855, as

British ambassador to the court of Siam, and was cordially welcomed by

the king, with whom he had previously been in friendly correspondence.

Aided by his able secretary of legation, Consul Parkes (now Sir Harry

Parkes, British minister to Pekin), in one short month, in one week of

actual negotiation, he overturned the customs and prejudices of

centuries, and had conceded to him by the enlightened ruler of the

land and his ministers of state the abolition of all the government

monopolies of articles of trade, the removal of the old foolish

prohibition of the export of rice and teak-wood, moderate duties on

imports, the residence of consuls to protect the interests of their

countrymen, and liberty for British subjects to travel and take up

land in the country. This treaty opened the way for all subsequent

treaties with other nations, and so opened Siam to the commerce of the

world.

Dr. House availed himself, when the embassy left Siam, of the

courteous offer of a free passage to Singapore, to make a brief visit

to his native land to seek for the reinforcements his mission so

greatly needed. While at home he was ordained and married, and,

re-embarking with Mrs. House and the Rev. A. B. Morse and wife,

reached Bangkok again in July, 1856, greatly to the joy of the

solitary mission family that with faith and patience unwearied had

been “holding the fort.”

Meanwhile, a month or two before, our United States government had by

its ambassador, Townsend Harris, Esq., negotiated a treaty almost

identical with the British, and, to the great satisfaction of the

Siamese, Mr. Mattoon was appointed consul. Dr. William M. Wood, late

surgeon-general U. S. Navy, who accompanied the embassy, testifies in

his book, _Fankwei_, that the “unselfish kindness of the American

missionaries, their patience, sincerity and truthfulness, have won the

confidence and esteem of the natives, and in some degree transferred

those sentiments to the nation represented by the missions, and

prepared the way for the free national intercourse now commencing. It

was very evident that much of the apprehension they felt in taking

upon themselves the responsibilities of a treaty with us would be

diminished if they could have the Rev. Mr. Mattoon as the first U. S.

consul to set the treaty in motion.” Mr. Mattoon accepted the office,

however, only till a successor should be appointed at Washington.

Meanwhile, his mission-work――preaching, translating, etc.――was not

intermitted.

In 1856 the schools reported forty-seven in attendance, and every

department of the work was in successful operation.

Another station in Bangkok being thought desirable, and a large lot

with broad frontage on the river on its west bank in the lower suburbs

of the city becoming available, it was secured, and Mr. Morse (a

bamboo cottage being put up for his temporary residence) removed there

and commenced building a brick dwelling-house. Ere its walls were half

up he was completely prostrated by disease, and forced, to the great

regret of his associates, to leave the field and the work he loved,

and for which he was so well qualified. Previous to his leaving, Mrs.

Mattoon, finding an American ship loading at Bangkok to sail direct

for the United States in March of this year, had availed herself of

the opportunity to make a visit home for rest and to recruit her

strength, exhausted by ten years’ toil in a tropical climate.

It being necessary to go on and complete the building begun by Mr.

Morse, and the new premises there having the advantage of carrying on

some departments of missionary work, and not being subject to

ground-rent, as was the other place, it was deemed best to give up the

upper station, dispose of the buildings there and establish the

Presbyterian mission permanently on the newly-purchased ground. The

removal of the mission to the new station, four miles below, was made

in November, 1857, and another dwelling-house immediately commenced.

This was nearly completed when, June 20, 1858, the Rev. Jonathan

Wilson and wife and the Rev. Daniel McGilvary arrived. Messrs. W. and

McG. had been room-mates at Princeton Seminary; while there had both

felt the claims upon them of missionary work, and had become much

interested in Siam; but after graduating Mr. McGilvary was called to

become pastor over a church in North Carolina, and Mr. Wilson had gone

out as a missionary to the Choctaw Indians. Years passed, and each had

been led by the pressing needs of the field to offer himself to the

Board for service there, and most gratifying was it to find that they

were to be sent out together.

The number of ordained ministers now warranted the formation of a

Presbytery, and the Presbytery of Siam was duly constituted September

1, 1858.

In the study of the language, aiding in the instruction of the pupils

in the boarding-school and in tract-distribution the new brethren

found enough to busy them.

In January, 1859, the Rev. S. Mattoon, who had then for some twelve

years without intermission borne the burden and heat of the day,

returned to the United States for the much-needed change, rejoining

his family there.

Signs of more than usual religious interest appeared about this time,

and one of the native teachers, Nai Chune, applied for Christian

baptism. So deep, however, was the duplicity of this people generally,

and so many who professed interest in the teachings of the gospel had

proved to be influenced by purely selfish motives, that when this case

of genuine conviction of the truth occurred, just what they had been

hoping and praying for so long, the brethren distrusted the sincerity

of the man, and put him off from week to week until fairly compelled

to admit that the miracle of converting grace had actually been

wrought even in a Siamese, and they could no longer forbid water that

he should be baptized. The day of Nai Chune’s baptism (August 7, 1859)

was to them a jubilee indeed. With tears of joy they gathered in at

last, after more than twelve years of toil unblest, the first-fruits

of their labor among the Siamese.

It was singular that this same year (in December) the mission should

lose its first church-member――Quakieng, the faithful, consistent

Chinese native assistant. He was attacked by cholera and died,

commending his departing spirit to his heavenly Father. With his death

the Hokien-Chinese instruction in the mission-school ceased, and soon

after the teaching of the Hainan Chinese in their native tongue. The

school was too well established now to need to hold out this

inducement to attract pupils.

The cholera was quite prevalent in April, and Mrs. Wilson nearly

became a victim. Other diseases set in, and she lingered on the

borders of the spirit-land till July 10th, when she closed a blameless

Christian life and entered into the home of the blessed with words of

rapture on her lips.

The stricken band in the Presbyterian mission were greatly cheered and

strengthened two months after by the return (September 15th) of Mr.

Mattoon and family, and with them the Rev. N. A. McDonald and the Rev.

S. G. McFarland and their wives.

Up to this time the Presbyterian mission had been dependent for its

printing upon sister-missions, but now a press of its own, sent out by

the Board, was set up and soon in successful operation. A year or two

later it reported an issue of more than half a million of pages

annually.

In December, Mr. McGilvary was married to Miss Sophia R. Bradley,

eldest daughter of Rev. D. B. Bradley, M. D., of the American

Missionary Association. This cool season Messrs. Wilson and McFarland

accompanied Mr. Telford of the Baptist Board on a trip for

distribution of Siamese and Chinese tracts down the east coast of the

gulf as far as Chantaboon.

With such an accession to the members of the Presbyterian mission as

they had lately received, it was now deemed that the time had come for

them to establish a new station somewhere outside of Bangkok, and

Petchaburee was fixed upon as its location. This is an important

inland town, some eighty-five miles south-west from the capital city,

situated in the midst of charming scenery in a fertile and populous

district of country. The acting governor of the province favored the

having a station there, and offered every assistance; and this in a

place where the authorities treated very uncivilly the first

missionaries who visited it, and arrested those who received books at

their hands. Ground having been purchased and the house they had

secured made ready for them, in June, 1861, Messrs. McGilvary and

McFarland, with their families, removed to Petchaburee. Another

dwelling-house was soon under way, and a school opened on the

premises, with the sons of the governor and lieutenant-governor

enrolled among the pupils.

The name Petchaburee signifies the “city of diamonds,” and soon after

their arrival the missionaries found there, in the midst of the

rubbish of heathen superstition and idolatry, a gem, a living stone of

priceless value, that has since been taken to shine doubtless in the

Redeemer’s crown. It was a native Siamese, Nai Kawn by name, from a

village near, who called upon them to place his son under their

instruction. The lad already knew the Ten Commandments and the Lord’s

Prayer. The father himself surprised them by his facility in quoting

Scripture, repeating whole chapters of Romans; and on conversing with

him it appeared that, though he had never seen a missionary, from some

two or three portions of the Scripture and a few Christian tracts that

had fallen in his hands, taught by the Spirit of God, he had gained,

and accepted too, a wonderfully clear view of salvation by faith in

the Lord Jesus Christ. Gladly he received other portions of the New

and Old Testament, and, further instructed, he became a fearless and

efficient witness for the truth before his countrymen of high and low

degree.

The brethren at Petchaburee, with the freest access to the Siamese

everywhere, found a peculiarly inviting field of labor among a colony

of Laos numbering ten thousand or so, settled near them. These people,

adherents of a prince who had failed in his struggle for the throne,

had fled in a body from their own land in the far north-east some

eighty years before, and, seeking refuge in the dominion of the king

of Siam, had been assigned a home and lands in this fertile province.

They were made serfs of the king, however, and much of the time had to

work for their new royal master. A preaching-place was secured in one

of their villages, and these toiling exiles seemed to be interested

hearers of the word.

But to return to Bangkok. In December, 1861, Esther, a young native

woman who had been brought up in the family of Mrs. Mattoon, was

baptized,――the first native female member of the Presbyterian

mission-church of Siam.

On February, 2, 1862, the Rev. S. C. George and wife, who had been

sent out by the Presbyterian Board, arrived in Bangkok. Mrs. George

was a sister of Mrs. Johnson, one of the noble company of martyred

missionaries put to death by Nana Sahib’s orders at Cawnpore. Much

faithful colporteur work in the city and suburbs was done this year by

Mr. Wilson, and mission-tours were made to Camburi and Prabat by him

and other missionaries. A neat mission-chapel which had been built on

the mission premises without drawing upon the funds of the Board was

opened for divine service in May. In December, Messrs. McDonald and

House, with Mr. Telford of the Baptist mission, made a coasting-trip

to Chantaboon, distributing many Siamese and Chinese books and tracts

there and at other places visited on the way.

The first fruit of the labor of the Petchaburee missionaries was

gathered in February, 1863, when Kao, a young Siamese of much promise,

was baptized. He had entered Mr. McFarland’s service that he might

acquire a knowledge of English, but he was instructed also in the way

of life, and learned that which made him wise unto salvation. One

short month, and he left his dying testimony to the excellence of the

new religion he had embraced. Called away by sudden and severe

illness, his last words were, “Why do you weep? I am not afraid to

die. I love the Lord Jesus. I am going to heaven. My heart is happy.”

There were others in Petchaburee who soon after had the courage to

renounce Buddhism and publicly avow themselves Christians. May 10,

1863, a Siamese man and his wife, who had been long in Mr. McGilvary’s

employ, and a young Siamo-Chinese in Mr. McFarland’s, were baptized

and a church organized in Petchaburee. It was an occasion of great and

joyful interest to the brethren there.

In May the Rev. Robert Telford and wife of the Baptist mission, after

nine years’ labor among the Chinese of Siam, were obliged to leave

Siam in quest of health, embarking for China.

Mr. McGilvary, in his labors for their spiritual good, had become so

much interested in the Laos people settled near him in Petchaburee

that he was anxious to learn if something could not be done for the

evangelization of the hundreds of thousands of Laos in the tributary

states to the north, as yet unreached by the gospel. Accordingly, with

the consent of the mission, he made in that cool season, with Mr.

Wilson, an exploring-tour to the hitherto unvisited North Laos

country, journeying partly by boat, partly on elephants, as far as

Cheung Mai, the capital. The travelers were well received by the

authorities, and after an absence of eleven weeks returned strongly

impressed with the practicability and desirableness of establishing a

mission among that interesting people.

The varied work of the mission at the two stations was carried on as

in former years, some engaged in the boys’ school, others having

charge of the printing-press or translating the Scriptures or

preparing tracts and catechisms, maintaining the preaching-services,

conversing with visitors, distributing tracts or medicines,

vaccinating native children, studying the language with native

teachers, or conducting the daily morning service, which all on the

mission premises or in mission employ were required to attend, and

when, with the brief exposition of the Scripture read, much religious

instruction was given. The wives of the missionaries also did much for

the instruction of the native females in their families and

neighborhoods in reading and sewing and in Bible-classes on the

Sabbath.

In February, 1864, Dr. and Mrs. House left on a visit to the United

States, the state of Mrs. House’s health requiring it; and a few

months later Mrs. Mattoon, whose asthmatic trouble had returned, was

compelled to take her final leave of Siam. Her husband remained to

finish the important work on which he had long been engaged of making

a revised translation of the New Testament into Siamese. Mr. Wilson,

whose health had become impaired, accompanied Mrs. Mattoon and her

children to America.

In December, 1864, the Rev. Dr. Dean, whose shattered constitution had

been restored by eleven years’ sojourn in his native land, gladly

returned (with Mrs. Dean, Miss F. Dean and the Rev. C. H. Chilcott) to

take charge again of the Baptist Board’s mission-work for the Chinese

and of the Chinese church in Bangkok, which he had founded. Mr.

Chilcott was removed by death before he had entered on the second year

of his missionary life.

In December, 1865, the Rev. S. Mattoon took his final and regretful

leave of the land and the people for whose good he had labored so long

and so faithfully――a loss to the community as well as to the mission.

From the date of his embarkation for the field to that of his arrival

in the United States on his return was just twenty years.

April 4, 1866, the Rev. P. L. Carden and wife arrived to join the

Presbyterian mission, and in July the Rev. J. Wilson returned with

Mrs. Kate M. Wilson. In July also came Miss A. M. Fielde, to be

connected with the Chinese department of the Baptist mission. Dr. and

Mrs. House returned in December from their visit home, with health

renewed.

The industrial school for girls in Petchaburee, which has since

brought so many of the women and girls of that city under daily

Christian instruction and training in habits of neatness and industry,

commenced by Mrs. McFarland the year previous, was now an established

success. The boys’ boarding-school at Bangkok prospered under Mr.

George’s superintendence. The fall of 1866 was a season of marked

religious interest at the Bangkok station; there were several decided

cases of conversion, and a daily prayer-meeting instituted by the

converts was well sustained.

In 1867 (October 1) the missionaries write: “During the past twelve

months more additions have been made to the native church than in all

the previous years of its history.” Eleven had been received at

Bangkok and four at Petchaburee――nine of the number pupils of the

mission-schools.

This year (1867) was memorable as witnessing the commencement of the

Presbyterian mission in North Laos. On the 3d of January its pioneer

missionary, the Rev. Daniel McGilvary, with his family, embarked on

what was to prove a three months’ voyage up the Menam. Having, besides

the strong current of the river, no less than thirty-two decided

rapids to surmount in their boats, it was not till the 1st of April

that Cheung Mai, their destination, was reached. The king gave them a

friendly reception and provided them with a temporary home. Numbers

visited them daily, and gradually they acquired the confidence of the

people, who heard them gladly. The year following the Rev. Jonathan

Wilson and wife undertook the formidable journey, and left Bangkok to

join the McGilvarys at Cheung Mai. Not long after their arrival,

during a visit of Dr. House to the new mission, a church was organized

in that remote heathen city, with many an earnest prayer that the

“little one might become a thousand.” On his way thither over the Laos

Mountains, Dr. House had a narrow escape from death. The elephant on

which he had been riding unexpectedly turned upon him, struck him down

with its trunk and then wounded him severely whilst attempting to

transfix him with its tusks.

In May, 1868, the Rev. P. L. Carden, who had lastly been stationed at

Petchaburee, was obliged to withdraw from the field on account of the

serious illness of his wife. This year the Rev. Samuel J. Smith and

wife (formerly Mrs. Dr. Jones), who had been so long connected with

the American Baptist Board, became self-supporting, Mr. Smith having

charge of a large printing-establishment and a weekly English

newspaper, but maintaining Sabbath preaching and other services in

Siamese, and Mrs. Smith, able and indefatigable as a teacher and

writer, doing much in the work of instruction and in other ways for

the good of Siam.

As Mr. Chandler’s connection with the Board had been severed some ten

years before, the Siamese department of the Baptist mission ceased now

to exist.

An unusually protracted total eclipse of the sun was to occur this

year in August, and the Siamese dominions afforded the very best place

in the world to observe it. His Majesty the king of Siam, himself a

practical astronomer and very fond of the science, generously invited

the French astronomical expedition to be his guests on the

occasion――the governor of Singapore also, and the foreigners in

Bangkok generally, including the missionaries. He went himself with

his entire court, with quite a fleet of steamers, down the west coast

of the gulf, some two hundred miles, to Hua Wan, the point selected,

where the jungle had been cleared and a bamboo palace with other

buildings had been put up, expending upon his right royal

hospitalities in the whole affair about ninety-six thousand dollars. A

malarial fever taken there brought on, not long after his return to

his capital, the death of this martyr to science, the most enlightened

of all the sovereigns of Asia. He died with Buddha’s last words as the

last upon his lips: “All that exists is unreliable.” He used to say to

the missionaries, “The sciences I receive, astronomy, geology,

chemistry,――these I receive; the Christian religion I do not receive;

many of your countrymen do not receive it.” And now he died as the

philosopher dieth, stepping out into the darkness beyond, on which

neither science nor Buddhism shed a ray-of light or gleam of comfort.

As he had chosen to live without God in the world, so he died without

hope――the blessed hope of eternal life which sustains the dying

Christian, and might have been his. In the death of the king the

missionaries lost, some of them, a kind personal friend and

“well-wisher,” as he used to sign himself, and all a friendly-disposed,

liberal-minded sovereign, who put no obstacles in the way of their

evangelizing his people.

The king’s eldest son, Prince Chulalongkorn, then a youth of fifteen

years only, was made his successor by the unanimous choice of the

grandees of the realm. His royal father prized too highly the

knowledge and all that came to him through the study of English not to

have his heir-apparent taught that tongue. So from his early boyhood

an English governess had been provided for him and his numerous

brothers and sisters. From this accomplished lady he doubtless derived

many excellent ideas and principles, though by the terms of her

engagement she was expressly forbidden to teach Christianity to any in

the palace. After she left Siam he was for several months under the

tuition of Mr. Chandler.

The young king won golden opinions from the missionaries――who sought

an early audience to express their condolence, congratulations and

best wishes――by his prepossessing manners, his intelligence and the

evident sincerity of his assurances of good-will.

During his minority the affairs of the kingdom were successfully

administered by the regent, the one who had been prime minister during

the late reign――a man of great executive ability. The conservatism of

this ablest and wisest statesman of Siam was perhaps a needful check

upon what were possibly too strong tendencies toward reform in the

youthful sovereign, who would fain have abolished slavery for debt and

suppressed gambling by an immediate decree. But his minority was well

improved. He was the first ruler of Siam to break over the

superstition that would prevent his setting foot outside of his own

dominions, and before he was twenty had visited other countries――the

first year Singapore and Java; in a subsequent one, British Burmah,

Calcutta, Bombay, and other cities of British India――intelligently

observing everything, and returning with many ideas of improvements to

be made at home.

In January, 1869, the missionaries were reinforced by the addition of

the Rev. James W. Van Dyke and the Rev. John Carrington and their

wives to the Presbyterian mission, and Rev. S. B. Partridge to the

Baptist. Mr. Van Dyke was assigned at once to the Petchaburee station

as a colleague to Mr. McFarland, then laboring alone. Mr. Carrington

remained at Bangkok, and while acquiring the language gave valuable

assistance in the school.

At the Laos mission the brethren had much to encourage them. The king

of Cheung Mai had granted them a spacious lot of ground on the

river-bank for their homes; the gospel truth they preached was working

in the hearts of those who heard it, and one, whose heart had been won

before, when the falsity of his own sacred books’ scientific teachings

had been shown by the fulfillment of the foreign teachers’ prediction

of the great eclipse, was brave enough to renounce Buddhism and

receive Christian baptism. The name of this first convert was Nan

Intah. Others too were brought out of darkness into light, till in the

first seven months of the year 1869 seven converts were baptized.

But a storm was gathering, soon to burst upon them. The king, a brave

warrior, but a narrow-minded, arbitrary, superstitious ruler, who had

never comprehended their true errand, though apparently friendly, when

he saw they were beginning to draw his people over to the new faith

determined to uproot it from his dominions. He first attempted to get

rid of the missionaries themselves, forwarding a complaint against

them to the authorities at Bangkok and requesting their removal. The

nature of the charge so illustrates the superstition of the people and

the character of the man that the story of it must be given.

On the 31st of March, 1869, there was received at the U. S. consulate

a communication of which the following is a literal translation: “Chow

Phya Pooterapai, Minister of the Interior, begs to inform the acting

consul of the United States of America that Pra Chow Kawilorot, the

king of Cheung Mai, has sent down letters to Prince Hluang Hluang and

the Prime Minister and myself, the purport of all being the same――viz.

that whereas in former times the principalities of Cheung Mai and

Lampang and Lampoon had never been subject to visitation of famine,

now for two years――the year of the Tiger [1866-67] and the year of the

Rabbit [1867-68]――there has been a scarcity of rice. It is evident

that what has befallen the country is because in these lands, where no

foreigner ever before had come to live permanently, now at this time

the missionary McGilvary, who has come as a teacher of religion, had

taken up his residence in Cheung Mai. Hence these calamities have come

upon them. He, the king of Cheung Mai, begs that the consul be made to

issue an order withdrawing [lit. “pulling up”] the missionary

McGilvary and requiring his return. What is proper to be done in this

matter? You are requested to take the subject into consideration.”

To this letter Mr. McDonald, who, singularly enough, happened to be

acting U. S. consul at that time, under date of April 1st replied

substantially as follows: “He has received the communication of His

Excellency the Minister of Foreign Affairs forwarding the complaint of

the king of Cheung Mai, alleging Mr. McGilvary to be the cause of the

famine in his dominions and requesting his removal. In reply he begs

to say that it strikes him as rather singular to attribute the famine

during the year of the Tiger [1866-67] to Mr. McG.’s taking up his

residence in Cheung Mai, inasmuch as the scant harvest of that year

had already been reaped before Mr. McG. had arrived, or even left

Bangkok to go up to Cheung Mai, for it was not till Jan. 3, 1867, that

he set out on his journey. And this year [1868-69], though Mr. McG. is

still at Cheung Mai, we have tidings of an abundant harvest there.

Moreover, in 1865-66, Korat and other towns in that quarter

experienced a severe famine, and yet no foreigner had ever resided in

that region of country. Orders will be given to Mr. McGilvary so to

deport himself that no famine can be attributed to him hereafter; but

as to his (the consul’s) being required to withdraw Mr. McG. and

constrain him to return, it would be manifestly wrong. His Excellency

(the Minister of the Interior) and the Siamese government gave consent

to Mr. McG.’s going up to Cheung Mai, and he went on the invitation of

the king of Cheung Mai himself also. Moreover, he has expended on the

removal of his family and goods no small amount of money. That he (the

consul) should be asked to recall Mr. McG., and constrain him to

return, without any transgression of the laws alleged against him――in

fact, without any reason whatever――would not be right. The consul

trusts His Excellency will duly consider this matter, and that his

views may accord with what is just and right in the case.”

The Minister of the Interior in his reply, dated April 3d, states that

“his views coincide with the consul’s. Mr. McG. had in no respect

offended against any of the laws of the country. His Excellency has

some solicitude about the matter, however, inasmuch as the king of

Cheung Mai is a difficult man to deal with, being often arbitrary and

unscrupulous. He is constrained to say this much, that the consul may

be apprised of the true state of things.”

The warning was kindly given, but at Cheung Mai the king, failing in

this attempt to have the foreign teachers expelled, concealed his

hostility to them and their work, and outwardly all went on as usual.

Meanwhile, the truth was working in the hearts of not a few who heard

it, and the truth made them brave to confess their newfound Lord and

Saviour. In seven months from the time when Nan Intah had been

received six more Laos men had professed themselves Christians and

been baptized. Then suddenly the storm that had been long gathering

burst upon the infant church. On the 12th Sept., 1869, two of the

newly-made converts were seized by orders from the king on some false

pretext, painfully pinioned, and after a night’s imprisonment, without

trial, barbarously put to death, being beaten with clubs on the neck,

one of them pierced also with a spear. “Faithful unto death,” who can

doubt they have received from the Lord Jesus, to whom dying they

commended their departing spirits, the crown of life, the martyr’s

crown, for they were as true martyrs as any who were slain in the

cruel Nero’s day? The other five church-members, taking flight,

contrived to secrete themselves from those who “sought their lives to

destroy them.”

The situation of the missionaries themselves was now perilous in the

extreme. They and their wives and their little ones were in the hands

of a merciless, self-willed, reckless, bigoted despot, who hated them

and their doctrines, and were five hundred miles away from consular or

other aid. Succeeding at last in getting a letter to their friends at

Bangkok, the brethren of the mission, startled by the tidings, and not

knowing indeed if the Laos missionaries were yet in the land of the

living, hastened to lay the matter before the regent. He kindly

promised to despatch a special commissioner to Cheung Mai at once with

any missionaries that might go, with stringent orders that the

missionaries there and their families receive from the Laos

authorities the protection the treaty between Siam and the United

States guaranteed them. He declined, however, to interfere in behalf

of the native Christians.

Messrs. McDonald and George bravely volunteered on behalf of the

mission to go to the comfort and aid of their brethren in peril, and

set out on the long journey, proceeding by boat to Rahang, thence

traveling over the Laos mountains on elephants with the Siamese

commissioner and his attendants. In a stormy interview which the

missionaries had with the king in the presence of the commissioner he

was forced to admit that the two men had been put to death because

they had become Christians, and he avowed his set purpose “to kill all

his people who should do the same.” As to the missionaries, “they

might remain, as the Siamese government had so ordered, but they must

not teach religion nor make Christians.”

The future of the Laos misson did indeed look dark, and there seemed

to be no alternative but to withdraw from the land while this king

reigned. But he who was thus “breathing out threatenings and

slaughter” speedily had his power for evil taken from him and was

called to his account by a higher Power. Soon after, during a visit he

made early in the year 1870 to Bangkok to attend the imposing

ceremonies at the cremation of his late suzerain, the king of Siam, he

was taken ill. His sickness increasing, he hastened home, but did not

live to enter again the walls of his capital, and the supreme power

passed into the hands of the second king, his son-in-law, who from the

first, with his truly noble queen, had been kindly disposed to the

missionaries.

In February, 1870, Mr. McDonald, whose health had become seriously

impaired, found it necessary to visit the United States, and left Siam

with his family. A young Siamese who accompanied them, giving evidence

of true conversion, was baptized by Mr. McDonald during his sojourn in

America.

In April, 1871, Mrs. House was obliged to make a trip for a season to

the more temperate clime of the United States, and, leaving her

husband at his post, returned alone. This year C. W. Vrooman, M. D.,

was sent out as a medical missionary to the Laos. Proceeding to Cheung

Mai after the rains, during his stay of a year and a half he

accomplished a good work for the mission. Oct. 11, 1871, Miss Fielde

of the Baptist mission to the Chinese left Siam, eventually to join

the mission of the Board in Swatow, China.

Toward the close of this year Mr. McDonald and family returned to

Siam, and with them the Rev. R. Arthur and wife, the Rev. J.

Culbertson and Miss E. S. Dickey. Miss Dickey proved a most efficient

and acceptable teacher in the mission-school at Bangkok, and

subsequently at Petchaburee. The last day of 1871 brought back to

Siam, his native land, the Rev. Cornelius Bradley and wife, to be

associated with his father in the mission-work of the American

Missionary Association.

In June, 1872, Ayuthia, the ancient capital of Siam, and still a town

of considerable importance, was occupied as a missionary station by

the Rev. J. Carrington and family, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur joining them

before the expiration of the year. At Petchaburee their new chapel was

dedicated with interesting services in August. In October, 1872,

twenty church-members were reported at Petchaburee, and eighteen at

Bangkok. In December, Mrs. House returned from her health-trip to

America, accompanied by Miss Arabella Anderson.

The women of the Presbyterian Church at home were now waking up to

realize their special privilege and duty to work and give and pray for

the women and children of benighted heathen lands. The ladies of the

Troy branch of the Albany Synodical Missionary Society, from which two

laborers had gone out to Siam, becoming thus particularly interested

in that country, had undertaken to establish a female boarding-school

at Bangkok, and raised three thousand dollars for that purpose. A

little before this a lot of ground on the west bank of the river,

nearly opposite the palace of the second king, some five miles above

the lower station, had been secured by the mission, and a

dwelling-house partially completed on it. Mr. and Mrs. George, who

were to have occupied it as a new station, having to return to the

home-land, Mrs. George’s health failing, the Board tendered the place

and the building to the Troy ladies for their school purposes, on

condition of their investing their own funds in the building and

completing it. They accordingly took possession, Dr. and Mrs. House

and Miss Anderson occupying it in December, 1873. The school was

opened in May, 1874, in charge of Mrs. House and Miss Anderson, and by

the close of the year had a large number of boarding pupils, some of

them noblemen’s daughters.

The year 1873 witnessed a great diminution of the number of the

missionaries of the Presbyterian Board. In January the Rev. S. C.

George, after eleven years’ service as teacher, preacher and

translator, left with Mrs. George, as has been already stated.

February 8th the Rev. S. G. McFarland and his wife, after twelve and a

half years of faithful and exhausting but successful labor for this

heathen people’s good, sought their much-needed and well-earned rest

in their native land. April 19th the Rev. D. McGilvary of the Laos

mission, who had been nearly fifteen years in the field, sailed from

Bangkok with his family to revisit his friends and the churches in the

United States. By the same steamer Miss Dickey also left, to find in

the North China mission a more congenial climate. Aug. 12th, Dr.

Vrooman sailed, having withdrawn from the Laos mission in June. Aug.

25th the Arthurs embarked for the United States, Mrs. Arthur’s health

having failed entirely.

But the great loss to Siam this year was by the death of the

missionary of longest service in the field――the Rev. D. B. Bradley, M.

D., who rested from his unceasing and varied labors for Siam and the

Siamese, continued for thirty-nine years with undiminished faith and

zeal, on the 23d of June.

During the months of June and July the cholera prevailed, carrying off

in twenty days over five thousand victims, among them the eldest son

of Mr. McDonald. In November, Maa Tuan, the eldest daughter of

Quakieng, the former Chinese assistant, was received to church

membership; two of his sons were afterward admitted. A translation of

_Pilgrim’s Progress_, made by the native elder of the Bangkok church,

was printed this year and was in large demand.

The recoronation of the king took place in November, he having now

obtained his majority. On taking the reins of government into his own

hands, prompted by his own noble instincts, his inherited love of

progress and sincere desire for the good of his people, he boldly

ventured upon reforms that were startling to his old courtiers, and

indeed to all who had known Old Siam. His coronation-day was marked by

the abolition of the degrading custom practiced for centuries of

requiring those of inferior rank to crouch and crawl on all fours like

spaniels in the presence of their superiors. A still more remarkable

change he sought to introduce was the giving up of some of his

absolute power as sovereign, by creating a council of state and also a

privy council, before whom all public measures were to be brought and

discussed and approved before they could be decreed by the king as

laws. In carrying out these and other well-planned reforms he

received, however, but little sympathy from the old ex-regent and his

party.

In 1874, to the great regret of all, the Rev. C. B. Bradley was

compelled to leave the, to him, debilitating climate of Siam. With his

family he embarked for California March 8th. Upon his departure the

American Missionary Association withdrew altogether from the field,

making over to the family of Dr. Bradley the mission premises and the

printing-establishment. This last, in fact, had been built up by the

energy and skill and labor of Dr. Bradley, and its earnings had for

many years more than paid all the expenses of the mission.

The Presbyterian Board was now the only Board left to provide for the

spiritual needs of the Siamese people. Would that the Church whose

agent that Board is could be made to realize the blessedness of the

privilege committed to her if improved, and the responsibility she

incurs if unfaithful to her duty to these myriads of dying men and

women!

Mr. Carrington too was forced by protracted illness in his family to

take his final leave of Siam.

In the fall of 1874, Mr. and Mrs. McGilvary of the Laos mission,

returning from their visit to America, arrived in Bangkok, and, being

joined by Marion A. Cheek, M. D., the newly-appointed medical

missionary to these people, who came out by a later steamer early in

1875, embarked for their remote post at Cheung Mai.

Under Dr. Cheek’s escort Miss Mary L. Cort and Miss Susie D. Grimstead

had come to join the Siam mission. Both were assigned to the station

at Petchaburee. There Miss Cort has remained ever since, in labors

abundant and manifold and with zeal and courage untiring.

Among the converts reported in 1875 was one long in the employ of the

different missions as a printer, who had hardened his heart against

the truths he had through the press helped make known to others, and

grown old in sin, now constrained to yield to those truths and enter

on a Christian life. Two sons of the old native Chinese assistant,

Quakieng, who died in 1859, were also received, and the younger became

a candidate for the ministry.

In April, Mrs. McDonald embarked for the United States with her

children, to provide for their education there, her husband remaining

at his post, preaching, superintending the press and translating the

Scriptures of the Old Testament.

Oct. 19, 1875, the Rev. S. G. McFarland and Mrs. McFarland returned to

Siam, and with them came the Rev. Eugene P. Dunlap and wife. On their

way down the China Sea they encountered a typhoon and for many hours

were in imminent danger.

Dr. Cheek was married in December to Miss Sarah A. Bradley, daughter

of the late Rev. D. B. Bradley, M. D., and in February, 1876, Miss

Arabella Anderson was married to the Rev. Henry V. Noyes of the

Presbyterian mission in Canton, and left with him, to return to Siam

no more. The place she had so well filled in the girls’ boarding-school

at Bangkok was taken by Miss Grimstead. The number of pupils then in

attendance was twenty.

The health of Mrs. House had now become so seriously impaired by eight

months’ continuance of severe attacks of asthma that her longer stay

in Siam was out of the question, and she was reluctantly obliged to

hand over to others her cherished work of female education and the

school for girls, now in successful operation. With like regret did

her husband leave the people and the country for whose good nearly

thirty years of his life had been given. Dr. and Mrs. H. left for home

in March, 1876, taking with them two Siamese lads of eleven to be

educated in the United States under their care.

Their departure made necessary the coming over of Mr. and Mrs. Van

Dyke from Petchaburee to take charge of the upper station at Bangkok

and assist Miss Grimstead in the management of the girls’ school. This

same year, in June, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, with health quite broken by

exhausting labor in their Laos mission, had to go to the United States

to rest and recover strength. Mr. W. improved the opportunity to

procure in America the casting of a font of Laos type――no easy task.

At Cheung Mai this year the widow of one of the martyrs was baptized

with her two daughters, and Nan Intah, the first Laos convert, had the

happiness of seeing his wife and son-in-law received to the church,

and not long after two daughters and a son.

In 1877 the first Siamese convert baptized in the Presbyterian

mission, Nai Chune, was called to depart. He died as one who “_knew_

in whom he believed,” and said in parting from the missionary friend

who visited him, “I must go first, but I will be waiting at the gate

to welcome the rest of you when you come.” This year Mr. McDonald

rejoined his family in the United States, returning with them the year

following. The state of Miss Grimstead’s health compelled her return

to America and the severance of her connection with the Board. The

native churches received large accessions during the year, thirteen

being added to the Bangkok church, twenty to the Petchaburee and ten

to the church at Cheung Mai, making the total number of communicants

in Siam one hundred and four, and in Laos nineteen. The king of Siam

manifested his interest in the work of female education by the

generous gift of a thousand dollars toward the building for this

purpose the mission was erecting at Petchaburee. This sum was

handsomely supplemented by twelve hundred and sixty dollars more,

contributed by some of the higher princes and nobles.

Early in the year 1878 the Rev. J. M. McCanby arrived, and Miss Jennie

Korsen――the last to take Miss Grimstead’s place in the girls’

boarding-school. The Rev. S. G. McFarland, D. D., withdrew this year

from his connection with the mission, having been invited by His

Majesty to take the presidency of the newly-planned King’s College at

Bangkok. The mission press during the twelve months, under Mr.

Culbertson’s energetic supervision, issued over a million pages of

Scripture and other truth.

In October, 1878, Mr. Wilson, leaving Mrs. W. in America, as her

health did not admit of her accompanying him, embarked on his return,

and under his escort three lady missionary teachers――Miss Belle

Caldwell for Siam, and Miss Edna S. Cole and Miss Mary Campbell for

the Laos. Miss Korsen becoming Mrs. McCauley and removing to the lower

station to assist her husband in charge of the boys’ school, Miss

Caldwell took her place at the school for girls. The boys’ school

under the McCauleys had a membership of fifty-five, and good progress

was made in study.

An appeal having been made to the king of Siam by the missionaries to

the Laos in behalf of certain oppressed native Christians, he was

graciously pleased to issue (Sept. 29, 1878) a proclamation

establishing religious toleration in Laos, and by implication

throughout all his dominions.

Under the direction of the Presbytery of Siam two new churches were

organized this year――one at the upper station of Bangkok, the other at

Bangkaboon, a fishing-village near Petchaburee. The native Christians

at Bangkok by their contributions provided for the erection of a house

for the native preacher at Ayuthia, and the entire support of another

assistant there. The total church-membership in Siam now was one

hundred and thirty-three, and in Laos thirty-one.

Miss Mary E. Hartwell, who arrived with the McDonalds early in 1879,

assisted Miss Caldwell in the girls’ boarding-school, and Miss Hattie

H. McDonald, who was now under appointment as a missionary teacher,

taught in the boys’ school, which came under her father’s supervision

when the McCauleys, who had been in charge, were compelled to remove

to Petchaburee by the departure thence, in consequence of their

failing health, of Mr. and Mrs. Dunlap, who had been there of late.

The Dunlaps returned to the United States in November.

The lady teachers at Petchaburee, Misses Coffman and Cort, had then

under their care seven different schools in and near that city,

numbering nearly two hundred pupils. At Cheung Mai the new missionary

teachers soon had in the school there, which Mrs. McGilvary had

commenced, twenty-five girls, eighteen of whom were boarding pupils.

Eighteen Laotian converts were reported this year. The Laos king,

finding the premises of the mission too limited, bought an adjacent

lot and generously presented it to the mission.

In February, 1880, Mr. Culbertson was married to Miss Caldwell. In

August, Ernest A. Sturge, M. D., sailed for Siam as a medical

missionary, to be stationed at Petchaburee, and later in the year the

Board sent out to the Siam mission the Rev. Mr. and Mrs. C. S.

McClelland, with Miss Laura A. Olmstead. Miss Olmstead became Miss

Hartwell’s associate in the girls’ school, and the McClellands went to

Petchaburee. Mr. McCauley’s constitution not enduring a tropical

climate, he had, with his wife, to be transferred this year to the

mission of the Presbyterian Board in Japan. The state of Mrs.

McGilvary’s health made a visit to the United States necessary for

her, and at the close of the year Mr. and Mrs. Van Dyke and family,

all seriously ill, after nearly twelve years’ residence in the

tropics, made their first visit home.

The boys’ school, under Miss H. H. McDonald, numbered sixty-seven, of

whom forty were boarding scholars. Notwithstanding the sad defection

of the native elder in the First Church, Bangkok, and the absence for

a while of any ordained missionary at Petchaburee, twenty-five new

converts were reported in Siam this year. To the church in Laos

thirty-nine were added, and in July a new church was constituted in

the midst of a cluster of villages about nine miles from Cheung Mai.

The Laos school, under Miss Cole’s care chiefly, now numbered

thirty-five, of whom twenty-two were boarders. Dr. McGilvary spent

several months this year at the frontier town of Rahang, where two

professed conversion, and in October he baptized six adults and

organized a church in Lakon, one of the chief cities of North Laos,

one hundred miles east of Cheung Mai.

In 1881, Mr. and Mrs. Culbertson left the field, Mrs. C. having lost

her health, and Dr. McGilvary in March left Cheung Mai to rejoin his

family in the United States. But one ordained missionary able to

preach in the native language was now left in Siam, and one in Laos.

Nor were any reinforcements sent out this year from home, though one

in the field, Miss Mary McDonald, the second daughter of the Rev. N.

A. McDonald, D. D., was appointed a missionary teacher. The new

missionaries at Petchaburee and the lady teachers there were greatly

tried by the contumacy and unchristian conduct of their oldest native

helper and other church-members, and they suffered severely at the

station from cholera, which prevailed as an epidemic. No less than

thirty-two pupils and others on the mission premises were attacked by

it. Dr. Sturge was the means of saving many lives in the town and

vicinity.

The untimely death of Miss Mary Campbell of the Laos mission, by

drowning in the Menam River, in February of this year, on her return

from a brief health-trip to Bangkok, brought sadness to many hearts in

America as well as in Siam.

And yet the year was not devoid of blessings. The schools prospered.

Two useful Christian tracts in Siamese, composed by native

church-members, were put in circulation. Dr. Sturge in September was

married to Miss Turner, who became a valuable accession to the station

at Petchaburee. One new church was formed in the Laos country, and no

less than fifty adults received Christian baptism there.

In 1882 the Laos mission were called to part with their first Laos

convert, long a model ruling elder, good old Nan Intah. Faithful and

true, with a beautiful, loving trust in his Saviour, he bade his

children and grandchildren a cheerful farewell, and went to be with

Christ. Dr. Cheek’s medical practice was this year greatly enlarged

and very successful. About thirteen thousand patients were prescribed

for, and thus much was done to break up their confidence in

spirit-doctors and their superstitious fears. Twenty-three were added

to the Laos churches.

In the Siam mission the Rev. Mr. and Mrs. McClelland were, by reason

of his continued illness, forced to give up their mission-work and

return to the United States. Miss Coffman and Miss Hattie McDonald

also were obliged to return in consequence of ill-health. The whole

burden of the schools in Petchaburee fell now upon Miss Cort. Dr.

Sturge treated four thousand five hundred and fifty-two cases――twice

the number of the previous year――and with the funds raised, mostly by

himself, had built a small hospital. The girls’ school, Bangkok, had

thirty-seven names on its roll. An exhibit of their skill and

industry, prepared for the Royal Centennial Exposition that came off

this year in commemoration of the founding of Bangkok, so pleased His

Majesty the king that he became the purchaser of the whole.

The greatly-needed reinforcements to the missions came this year, and

several who had been home to recruit their health returned. Mr. Van

Dyke sailed in July, leaving his wife with her children. In October,

Mr. and Mrs. Dunlap gladly went back to their work in Siam, and with

them, for the Siam mission, the Rev. C. D. and Mrs. McLaren and Miss

Lillian M. Luinell. By the same Pacific mail-steamer went Rev. Dr.

McGilvary and wife on their return to Laos, and as new recruits for

that field the Rev. J. Hearst and wife, the Rev. S. G. Peoples and the

Misses Griffin, Wirt, Wishard and Warner. On reaching Bangkok, the

whole party were very graciously received by the king, of whom they

obtained, through the U. S. minister to Siam, General Halderman, an

audience, and on December 13th the large company for Cheung Mai was on

its way up the river. The Baptist mission to the Chinese, that had now

for years been maintained in successful operation by the veteran

missionaries Dr. and Mrs. Dean, unaided save by native helpers, was at

last reinforced by the arrival of the Rev. L. A. Eaton, Dec. 15, 1882.

Mrs. Maria M. Dean, who for the benefit of her feeble health had been

constrained to leave her husband alone and visit the States in the

spring of 1881, was on the eve of returning to Siam when she was

suddenly called (January 16, 1883) to exchange earth for heaven.

The joy of those in the field at such a welcome addition to their

number as the opening year had brought them was, however, soon

diminished. In March, only four months after his arrival in Bangkok,

Mr. McLaren was snatched away by death, to the great regret of all,

for he was a man of unusual promise. The Laos party suffered greatly

from sickness after they reached Cheung Mai. Mr. Hearst was so

prostrated by malarial fever that he was obliged to leave the Laos

country, and, before the year was out, Siam itself for China and

Japan. In the latter country his health so greatly improved that he

hopes to remain and labor there. Dr. Cheek, with strength exhausted by

his long and arduous labors, greatly needed change and rest, and with

his family and Miss Edna Cole, whose health had become quite impaired,

left Siam for a visit to the United States, arriving in New York in

September, 1883.

Rev. Mr. Fulton of the Presbyterian mission in Canton was married to

Miss Wishard, and toward the close of the year 1883, Mr. Peoples of

Cheung Mai to Miss Wirt, and Miss Luinell to Mr. S. Gross, a layman in

the employ of the Petchaburee mission.

The number of the communicants reported in the four churches connected

with the Siam mission at the close of 1882 was 148; in the five

connected with the Laos mission, 144, of whom 23 were received during

the year; total, 292. There were many additions to this number during

the year 1883. Petchaburee especially was favored with quite a revival

of interest in spiritual matters. The faithful discipline that had

been exercised in the church there the year previous, and the zealous

labors of Mr. Dunlap, who returned followed and upheld by the prayers

of many of the Christian women of America whom his earnest words had

interested in his work while at home, resulted in the penitential

return of many wanderers and in the addition of 56 communicants during

the ten months preceding October 1st.

One more mission family was sent out during the year 1883――the Rev.

Chalmers Martin and wife, who, embarking for the East from New York

Sept. 29th, re-embarked in January, 1884, at Bangkok, on a native

river-boat for the distant station at Cheung Mai.

In reviewing the history of the mission-work in the kingdom of Siam

well may the Christian Church――the Presbyterian Church in

particular――“thank God and take courage.” Buried in the deepest

shadows of heathenish night, it long seemed as if the day of Siam’s

awaking to welcome the light of the gospel would never dawn. But it

came at last. The Lord had a people there whom he would call to the

knowledge of himself, and there were men and women “willing to endure

all things for the elect’s sake,” assured through all those years of

almost utter barrenness that they or some one would yet “reap if they

fainted not;” and then the Board, with everything to discourage it,

_never gave up_, and so reinforcements were sent out and new fields

opened and manned, and schools for girls as well as boys established

and maintained, and the translation of the Bible carried on to

completion, and Christian hymnals prepared, and catechisms and tracts,

and the printing-press kept busy, and its issues distributed far and

wide in city and hamlet, along the many rivers and canals, and the

gospel message preached in mission-chapels and idol-temples and by the

wayside, till now (1884) the truth has taken root in the land, and

there are in the nine Christian churches in Siam and Laos, as we have

seen, more than three hundred and fifty men and women, once idolaters

and without hope in the world, who know the true God and love and try

to serve him, and who rejoice, as we do, in hope of eternal life

through Jesus Christ his Son.

PART IV.

LAOS.

CHAPTER XXII.

_LAOS LAND AND LIFE._

You will read in the following pages of a people about whom little is

known and less published――a people possessing many qualities of

remarkable attractiveness, and yet having not a few strange and

semi-barbarous customs and beliefs; a people who seem in some respects

to be peculiarly open to the influence of Christian teaching, and upon

whose soil the Christian Church is rooted and growing; a people among

whom the Lord assuredly has “chosen ones” who are hearing his voice

one by one and answering to his call.

You will read of their land, their homes, their temples, their

worship, their lives and occupations. And of all these you will be

told by those who have lived among them, who have learned to

know――yes, and to love them, seeing the precious souls within as the

sculptor sees the beautiful statue within the rough block of marble.

CHARACTER AND GOVERNMENT.

Some few points are especially to be noticed as general characteristics

of the Laos. They are a kind, affectionate people, caring much for

their family-life and morally superior to the races around them. By

some they are supposed to be the original stock from which came the

present Siamese race, but they have mingled their blood with so many

tribes, and their country is divided into so many small kingdoms or

provinces, that it is difficult to find any marked traces of a

distinct nationality among them.

[Illustration: CORONATION OF A LAOS KING.]

There are six Laos states directly tributary to Siam――viz. Lakon,

Lampoon, Cheung Mai, Muang Nan, Hluang Prabang and Muang Prai. All are

independent of each other, but there are smaller provinces tributary

to these larger states, yet the rulers even of the minor provinces are

autocratic in rule within their own territories. Each of the six

larger states has a first and second chief, the offices being filled

by appointment of the king of Siam, to whom there is a right of appeal

on the part of the people, who send notice to Bangkok on the decease

of a chief, with a private intimation of their views as to a

successor. Tribute is paid triennially to Siam in the form of gold and

silver boxes, vases and jeweled necklaces, together with curious gold

and silver trees valued at from 15_l._ to 135_l._ each.

The rulers of these provinces are called _khiao_, and they are

invested with their office by the use of a gold dish, betel-box,

spittoon and teapot, all of which are sent from Bangkok for the

occasion, and returned thither when they die or are deposed from the

throne.

The picture on the opposite page represents the coronation of the

_khiao_ of one of the most important of the Laos provinces in the

East. The ceremony is thus described:

“On the morning of the appointed day there was an uproar of drums and

gongs and other unmusical instruments. The noisy orchestra surrounded

the palace, while the royal procession wound through the streets and

defiled into the square or market-place. Mounted upon an elephant of

great size, which was armed with a pair of formidable tusks, the king

made his appearance, encircled by guards on foot and on horseback and

attended by his great dignitaries mounted like himself. A train of

smaller elephants followed carrying the court ladies. The cortège

finally directed its course to some spacious pavilions erected for the

purpose, where the bonzes of the royal pagoda were offering up their

prayers. A few minutes passed, and another tableau was presented. The

king was seen enthroned in the largest pavilion. He arose, and,

escorted by his principal officers, advanced into the middle of a wide

platform, where the bonzes, still uttering their prayers, gathered

about him. He threw off his clothes, replacing them by a mantle of

white cloth. Then the bonzes drew apart, so as to open up a passage

for him, and he proceeded to place himself, with his body bent into a

curve, immediately underneath the sacred dragon. Prayers were

recommenced, and the king received the anointing or consecrating

_douche_, while a dignitary who stood at one corner of the dais set

free a couple of turtle-doves as a sign that all creation, down even

to the animals, should be happy on so auspicious a day. When the water

which was contained in the dragon’s body had completely douched the

royal person, new garments were brought, over which was thrown a large

white robe, and he returned to his place in the centre of the hall. A

grand banquet of rice and cucumbers and eggs and pork and delicious

bananas, washed down by copious draughts of rice-wine, concluded the

day’s proceedings, and in the evening the town was lighted up with

fireworks, while bands of singers and musicians traversed the

streets.”

The whole country belongs nominally to these chiefs, who grant certain

districts to the numerous princes and nobles. These tax the common

people heavily――one bucket of rice for every bucket planted――and there

are also taxes on pork, fish, betel-nuts, bamboo and――gambling! The

chiefs appoint an officer to gather the taxes in each hamlet, and by

fair means or foul the uttermost farthing is squeezed out of the

poorer classes.

The greatest reverence is paid to these princes and officials by the

people, who never venture to name them without their titles in

conversation, and when in the presence of a superior show their

humility by crouching before them. A noble or wealthy Laos gentleman

or lady never makes a call, or goes out for even a short walk, without

a full retinue of attendants and slaves bearing the betel-box,

umbrella, water-jar, sword, seal and other signs of wealth and rank.

Besides captives taken in war and their descendants, there are great

numbers of slave-debtors, under obligation to serve their creditor

until they can repay the debt incurred, capital and interest. These

are usually well treated, and can recover freedom at any time if the

debt is discharged by themselves or a friend.

RELIGIOUS BELIEF AND CUSTOMS.

While the Laos people are Buddhists, devout and faithful to all the

requirements of that system, they are also true worshipers of nature,

believing in spirits of earth, air and water, making frequent

offerings to these and having some beautiful customs of worship

connected with them. It would seem as if this phase of their religious

life grew out of a sort of longing in their affectionate hearts for

something less cold and distant――something closer and more accessible

to them――than Buddhist teachings could give, and that, moved by this

craving, they have turned to the spirit-world with its unseen but

possibly near ministrations.

A few of their religious customs are interesting, and remarkable

enough to deserve here some special mention. Dr. McGilvary gives the

following account of one of their ceremonies:

“The full moon of the fourth Laos month, which usually occurs in

January, witnesses a strange Laos custom. It is called by two names,

signifying ‘The Warming of Buddh’ and the ‘Offering of New Kow Lam’ to

the priests. About daylight on the morning of the full moon bonfires

are kindled in the temple-grounds, at which are assembled a larger

number than usual of worshipers. It is the cool season of the year,

when the mornings are uncomfortably cold, but no one dares to warm

himself by the bonfires on that morning. They are sacred to Buddh, and

are kindled for his special benefit, and he, too, is presumed to be

cold. When the fires are lighted, incense-tapers are taken by the

priests, who go inside of the temple and prostrate themselves before

the idols, and invite _them_ to come out and be warmed by the sacred

fires. It is a sham invitation, however, as they are not carried out,

and they cannot of course come out themselves.

“It shows the inconsistent, incoherent and contradictory notions that

a false religion fosters. If Buddh is a god, why should he be cold at

all? Or if cold, why can’t he warm himself? Or why cold on that

morning? Or does the heat of the little bonfires continue during the

whole cool season? And how does it consist with Buddh’s annihilation?

According to theory, he has attained Nipan, a state of utter

unconsciousness of either happiness or misery. How, then, can he feel

the sensation of cold? Or if he does, and can’t warm himself, how can

he be a refuge to others?

“We presume that the real explanation of the custom, however, may be

sought from the second name mentioned above, and that the important

part of the ceremony is the Kow Lam that follows. That is glutinous

rice, on which the Laos principally live, put in joints of the bamboo

and roasted over a fire till it is done. It is very palatable, and on

this morning must always be made of the first-fruits of the new

rice-crop. They feast on it then for a number of days. Every religious

ceremony has its appropriate offerings to the priests, and this one,

like the others, fills _them_ with good things, and it matters but

little then whether Buddh remains cold or becomes hot.”

The Rev. J. Wilson thus tells of an appeal to the gods in time of

drought:

“Many of the people are almost in a panic from the scarcity of rice. A

year ago there was very little rain in the first part of the season,

but the latter rain was so abundant as to overflow the fields to such

a depth as to drown the rice. Consequently, the main crop of the year

proved an entire failure. Rice has been and is now very dear, so that

many of the poor have great difficulty in obtaining a sufficiency to

support life. From the king down to the owner of the smallest patch of

ground, all have been earnestly engaged in trying to call down the

rain. The king, with his retinue of princes and servants, has ascended

the mountain that lies some three miles west of the city to drench

with water the pagoda and the principal idols of a temple that stands

upon one of the mountain’s peaks. Only a few days ago a procession of

one hundred priests climbed the mountain for a similar service. The

temples of Buddh, especially on the sacred days, are vocal with the

sound of drums and the incantations of the worshipers who have brought

their offerings to the idols to buy rain with merit. The execution of

some convicts was hastened as a propitiatory sacrifice to the

rain-producing powers.”

At another time, when the season had been favorable, the thanksgiving

is described by the same hand, as follows:

“The rice-crop this year is a bountiful one, and the people are

rejoicing over it. The second king came in from the country on Sabbath

morning. He had been out in his fields threshing his rice. Returning,

he arranged for the yearly procession that is made at the close of the

harvest. The first gong had rung for our religious service just as the

procession reached the lower compound. The noise of bells on the

elephants and the chanting of the riders, together with the music made

by the king’s band, made it necessary for us to delay the ringing of

the second gong until after the procession had passed. I had not

supposed it was to be so great an affair. A large number of elephants

had passed before I began to count, but I counted one hundred and ten

as they passed along one by one. I was told there were one hundred and

seventy in the procession. One of the largest wore trappings of the

brightest silver. The howdahs contained rice. All these were decorated

with green branches. The procession was in honor of the guardian

spirits that preside over the rice-crop. Those that could see the

procession in its whole length considered it the most imposing one

that has passed for years.

[Illustration: A LAOS FUNERAL.]

“About six weeks――including parts of March and April――are annually

given up almost wholly to idolatrous worship, much of which consists

in efforts to propitiate spirits. The spirit of the river upon which

most of their commerce is carried on is propitiated by a floral

offering. Tiny boats are filled with the choicest flowers, carried to

the river’s edge, and tapers arranged by which to illuminate the

little barks. At a certain hour after dark a signal is given, and

simultaneously thousands of these little boats are launched and go

sailing down the stream. Aside from its being an act of idolatry, it

is a most brilliant and beautiful sight and one that excites our

highest admiration.”

In Laos, when a person dies, a precious stone or coin is sometimes

placed in the mouth of the corpse to pay the spirit-fine into the next

world. Afterward the body is cremated with ceremonies similar to those

of Siam. Men are laid with faces downward, and women on their backs,

for cremation. When a chief dies, men are hired to engage in a

pugilistic encounter in honor of the event.

MERIT-MAKING.

It has been frequently stated in the last few years that no _new_

temples are built in heathen lands, the old crumbling ones being

merely patched up for temporary use, if not allowed to fall into

absolute ruin. But the testimony of missionaries, who see much more of

these things than do passing travelers, does not bear out this

statement. As evidence of the zeal and activity with which an old

temple is sometimes restored and a new one planned when merit is to be

made thereby, the following is given:

“The princes and people of Cheung Mai are all astir in the work of

merit-making. Just now it takes the form of rebuilding the finest

temple that was erected in Cheung Mai, and in gathering and shaping

materials for the replacing, three or four months hence, of the temple

on the top of the mountain with a new structure. All the sawyers of

the city are on duty. Priests and people are busy with saw and chisel

and adze and plane. The large public courtyard is full of timber and

workmen. A new king has come upon the throne, and the way to a long

and successful reign must be sought in the building of these new

memorials to Buddha. How strange and how sad it all seems! But the

_people_ are not sad. For while their hands are busy their tongues are

busy too, and the frequent merry laugh tells of the joyous heart. They

boast themselves in their work. The chief priests of the temples are

there――one time passing among the workmen giving directions, then

seated in groups upon their mats, spread sometimes in the large

_sala_, and sometimes on the green sward, under the shelter of the

bamboo matting and the leaf-awnings that have been stretched above the

workmen. They are treated by all with the greatest reverence. The day

is theirs, for in every honor shown to Buddha they have a share. Every

day does the king come from his palace to inspect the work and to

testify his interest in it. His highest noblemen, and even princes,

consider it a privilege and an honor to help to frame the timbers for

these temples. And so the work goes on, and Buddha is remembered.

“Yesterday I passed through the temple that is so soon to be refitted.

The walls of the old building had been taken down and removed. The

foundation of the floor still remained. The principal idols were

occupying their old places. The smaller ones were sitting in groups

under the shade of the trees. The larger ones cannot be removed, but

have been covered with split bamboo to prevent injury while the

building is going up. The smaller ones are waiting patiently until the

temple is completed and they are carried back to their places.

“The building just removed was put up nearly a hundred years ago, and

with occasional patching has lasted until now. And what will be the

history of the new one? Will Buddhists worship their idols there a

hundred years to come? Will the darkness abide so long in the Laos

land? Or shall it have crumbled into ruins and temples for the worship

of the living God have risen up around it?”

Another of their innumerable ways of making merit is mentioned by Dr.

McGilvary:

“We visited a great cave at Cheung Dow that forms the subject of one

of their sacred books. It had never been examined beyond a certain

stream of water believed to be impassable. But if any one had merit

enough to cross, there would be found an idol ten feet high of solid

gold with golden vestments in which to visit the city of the Yaks,

which was still farther in. There, too, was the seat of Chow Kam

Daang, one of their greatest spirits. As it was not so convenient for

me to cross the water――which was not a deep stream, however――I had Nan

Intah cross it, and still another little pond of water, with no signs,

of course, of the golden idol or the city of Yak, which was our main

object in visiting the cave. The cave is nevertheless a fine one, and

in itself worthy of a visit.”

LANGUAGE.

Although the Laos understand the Siamese spoken languages, and many of

them can read the written characters also, the mass of the people are

unable to do the latter. Hence it is a matter of great interest and

importance to give them the Bible and other books in the Laos tongue.

Funds were collected in America some years ago, by the Women’s Foreign

Missionary Society of the Presbyterian Church, for the purpose of

making the type and having the Laos Bible printed. There has been

delay in the full accomplishment of this object, owing to the absence

from the country of some of the few missionaries who could superintend

it, and because also of some unexpected difficulties in the way; but

it is believed now that the work will very soon be done, and the

people be supplied with the Bible in their own tongue. They are

themselves eager to read and quick to learn.

CHEUNG MAI.

The Laos capital is a walled city a mile square and surrounded by a

moat, situated on the Maping River, one of the chief branches of the

Menam. Little hamlets of bamboo houses usually make up the towns of

the Laos country, but Cheung Mai has a brick wall around it, and is

much more of a city in size and appearance. The following description

of the view from the mission-house near by will give an idea of the

city and surrounding objects:

“From the veranda or through the open door we can see the stream

gliding by in graceful silence, the native boats passing up and down;

the farther bank with its smiling groves and houses half hidden

between; farther out, on the plain, a widespreading forest of palm and

other trees, whose towering tops tell us the site and limits of Cheung

Mai surrounded by its high and massive wall of brick. Beyond and over

the top of this city arose that grand old mountain, Doi Su Tape, ever

beautiful, ever changing in its beauty.

“Were I an expert at the pencil, I might send you some time a

landscape of river, plain and mountain superior to many that are

esteemed by the true artist as gems of the beautiful and picturesque.

It is our privilege to look upon this landscape of varied beauty every

day. For a week or more we were shut in, native style, at every point

of the compass by a luxuriant growth of tamarind, bamboo, and garden

shrubbery. It is thus that the native houses, which generally stand

back a distance from the river-pathway, are sometimes entirely

concealed by the dark-green foliage of the gardens. In front of our

premises a number of tamarind trees stand in all the carelessness of

the primeval forest. Some of them clutch the bank with their great

roots, a part of which have been washed bare by the stream when at its

height. Their widespread branches intercepted our view of the river

and mountain and kept out the cooling breeze. But the axe, by lopping

and pruning, soon gave scope to the eye and ingress to the healing

wind.”

This principal mission-station is on the right bank of the river. On

the left bank, near the bridge, is Dr. Cheek’s compound, on the city

side――the gift of the chief of Cheung Mai to the missionary-physician,

who is consulted by the royal family in sickness.

Through the gate that leads from the public road to Dr. Cheek’s

dispensary a steady stream of Laos men, women and children, rich and

poor, passes to and fro. “His name is a synonym,” says a traveler[3]

who recently visited Cheung Mai, “of all that is good and kind

throughout the district, he having relieved the sufferings and saved

the lives of hundreds of natives, and thereby earned their warm

gratitude. Adjoining his house he has erected a long bamboo shed,

subdivided into a number of small apartments, which serve as the wards

of a hospital. Here he has performed hundreds of operations with such

skill and such success that even the superstitious Laotians come from

long distances to be cured by him when suffering from painful diseases

or severe wounds. The chiefs and princes often send for him when their

reliance upon the superstitious rites of the native ‘faculty’ begins

to fail them, though, in such cases, his advice has often been only

asked when the patients have been _in extremis_. Two or three years

ago he saved the life of the chief’s wife when all the drugs and

incantations of several native medicos had been called into

requisition in vain.

“Dr. Cheek has also established a boat-building yard, where he gives

employment to a large number of men, and where he has introduced

improved models of boats and better modes of construction. American

tools have been introduced, and are gradually superseding the

primitive adzes and saws of the natives.”

The same traveler describes the palace of the chief of Cheung Mai as

“a mixture of Chinese and Laos architecture. Along the whole front

extended a long, open room, partially furnished with European

furniture, the only article of native workmanship a large gilt

state-chair or throne reserved for the use of the head-priest when he

came to visit the chief.”

The palace itself and the court-life within are characterized by great

simplicity, the king, “an old man, tall of stature, but slightly

stooping beneath his load of sixty-four years,” usually spending much

of his time in mechanical work, of which he is fond, and the queen

sharing with him in the transaction of state business. The present

queen is a woman of remarkable intelligence, and exercises a

predominant influence in the government, “by virtue,” says a

missionary, “of her exceptional feminine tact.”

Cheung Mai has a large market, which is very neat and orderly. It is

kept by women, who seat themselves on the ground, with vegetables,

fruits and confectionery deposited on plantain-leaves or in little

baskets made by themselves. While not trading they work on embroidery

used in ornamentation. Formerly, salt was the market currency, and so

seldom was money used that the owners of the articles often did not

know the value of them in money, but could readily tell if asked how

much salt they would take. The occasion of this was that all their

salt came from a great distance and was very precious in Cheung Mai.

Within a few years the Siamese government has sent small coin to take

the place of salt as a currency. The people were much confused for a

while by the change, and circulated them reluctantly. Some were even

imprisoned for persisting in taking salt to market to make their

purchases.

The principal articles for sale are provisions, fruits, tobacco,

betel-nut, fish, mushrooms, wax, cotton, earthenware and flowers. The

pork-stalls are kept by men, and there are some Chinese sheds where

cotton goods, brass and wooden trays and Burmese lacquer-ware are

sold. There are a large number of temples in the city, among others

the new Wat Hluang, or royal temple, recently built on the site of a

very old one.

HOMES AND DAILY LIFE.

There are no fine houses or palaces for the most part in Laos, princes

and peasants building on much the same general plan; the size and

quality of material and workmanship are the main difference. The

thatched roofs are cheap and easily replaced, and those of teak tiles,

though more durable, afford no better protection from sun and rain.

One-story high and raised on posts from six to eight feet above the

ground, a short flight of rude steps leads to the balcony which runs

around the dwelling. The flooring is usually of bamboo or teak, and on

one side of the veranda, protected by a covered shed, stand the large

water-jars, with a cocoanut dipper near. This entrance-platform is

generally ornamented by pots of orchids and other flowering plants.

Here in dirty weather, before entering the house, the polite guest

pauses to pour water over his feet. Here too the princes and other

inmates, too indolent to walk down to the river, are accustomed to

take a morning and evening bath by pouring water over themselves with

the dipper.

Underneath the dwellings is a general receptacle for howdahs,

gardening utensils, etc., which at night is often used as a

cattle-shed.

The furniture is very simple. Mats and cushions are piled in a corner

ready for use, the best cushions being three-sided with embroidered

ends. Home-made mattresses stuffed with cotton; mosquito curtains;

generally a native cradle swinging from the beam overhead; a few pots,

pans, baskets, cocoanut-shell dippers and spoons; a flat vessel or

saucer for the porkfat or oil which, with a bit of cotton wick,

furnishes the only artificial light,――would probably nearly exhaust

the list. At meal-times, about seven in the morning and toward sunset,

the family-circle gathers around a lacquer or brass tray on which are

placed small bowls of fish or pork, bamboo-shoots, vegetables and

curry, the steamed rice being served separately to each person in a

small basket. They sit upon the floor or mats; plates, forks and

knives are for the most part unknown. Among the very poor the

plantain-leaf takes even the place of bowls and saves all

dish-washing.

Every house has its native loom, and the garments are for the most

part homespun. Cotton is very plentiful and cheap in Laos, and native

dyes are used. The women, rich and poor alike, spend much time in

making garments for the priests. Some of the well-to-do and the slaves

of the nobility are skilled in embroidery. The native silk fabrics are

also woven on the loom, cocoons of the wild silkworm being collected.

The favorite colors are dark-blue, orange, maroon and a reddish-brown.

Princesses use this silk interwoven with gold thread.

Each district seems to have its own local headcovering, the most

common being a large flat of palm-leaves sewn together. A straight,

scant, horizontally-striped petticoat in blue and yellow, with a

body-scarf or shawl worn in various ways, or a tight-fitting jacket,

constitutes the not ungraceful costume of a Laos woman; her hair,

being drawn back, is fastened in a neat knot by a gold pin and is

almost invariably ornamented with flowers.

The body of the men of Western Laos is usually covered with

tattoo-marks of different animals and emblematic monsters. These

figures are usually first sketched by the professional tattooer from

the waist to the knees――monkeys, bats, rats, birds and so-forth; then

the skin is punctured with a sharp-pointed steel instrument, and an

indelible black pigment is well rubbed in. The dress of the ordinary

man consists of little more than the waist-cloth, but the young

noblemen are adopting the Siamese court-costume. Formerly, all went

bare-footed, but buffalo-hide sandals are now much used. Both men and

women are passionately fond of flowers. The ear-lobes are bored when

very young and stretched with pieces of wood, ivory and metal, and the

men almost invariably carry a flower in this hole; cigars and other

articles are fastened behind the ear. Large ears are regarded with

favor as a sign of longevity.

LAOS WORKMANSHIP.

Scattered over Laos-land are brick-fields and pottery-works, where the

native earthenware, water-jars and other household utensils are made.

The earthenware oven used by the Laos is in the shape of a boot, the

opening at the top holding the pot, while the upper part of the shoe

is cut away for the grate. Wood is burned within. These ovens are very

cheap, but break easily.

Wood-carving is also much practiced in Laos, and much technical

artistic skill is displayed in the carved scroll-work for doors, posts

and household utensils.

The valuable native varnish called _rack_ is resin collected from the

trunk of a special tree in Laos. This black lacquer is a monopoly and

little exported, being used in preparing the temples and idols for

their covering of paint and gold-leaf. It dries slowly in spite of the

hot climate, but gives in the end a perfectly smooth, hard surface

unaffected by dampness. The manufacture of lacquer-ware is carried on

in all parts of the country. First-class workers are found in almost

every hamlet. The foundation is made of woven bamboo strips coated

thickly with _rack_. This is polished with the common Laos substitute

for sand-paper――rice-husks and water. Then a pattern is drawn with a

style and the article finished with coats of red and brown paint. Many

household utensils are lacquer-ware, and some of the designs are

really well executed. The price varies with the quality of the

workmanship.

The Laos are also skilled in the manufacture of silver-ware. Each

village has usually one or more native artists engaged in executing

orders for the princes and wealthy classes. The _modus operandi_ is

primitive, and the work lacks finish, but the general effect is bold

and pleasing. A thin plate of the right shape is filled with a

composition of wax and resin. The patterns are from memory, usually a

medley of mythical birds and beasts, and the design is hammered out

with a style and sort of blunt chisel, the plastic filling yielding

readily to each blow; the figures and scroll-work stand out in high

relief. The value of articles is determined by the weight, with fifty

per cent. added for labor.

OCCUPATIONS.

Life in Laos is exceedingly monotonous. The women do much of the hard

work in the field as well as in the household. During the dry, cool

season, from November to May, even the trees and grass seem dried up

and lifeless, only the orchids showing any signs of vitality. Heavy

thunder- and hail-storms in May often herald the opening of the rainy

season. Then all nature takes a fresh start: the rice is planted; new

leaves shoot out; the heat becomes intense; vegetation is almost

spontaneous. After planting, only a very little labor is needed to

secure a good harvest in a favorable season. Both buffaloes and oxen

are used for ploughing, and are guided by reins attached to the noses

of the animals. Elephants abound, and are also employed as beasts of

burden, especially in the wood-yards. Carts are few, and the rude

native ones sometimes used to transport rice are drawn by men. The

paddy-granaries are simple, huge barrel-shaped bamboo baskets,

plastered to keep out mice and insects.

There are few amusements. Men, women and children are adepts in

fishing, and thus provide food for the household. The chase is sport

little indulged in by the lower classes, with the exception of

professional tiger-hunters. Two or three times a year grand

hunting-expeditions are organized by the principal chiefs and cause

much excitement.

The habits of social and domestic life among the Laos present some

striking contrasts to those of most heathen nations. Women are kindly

treated, and even honored by special favor and consideration in cases

of litigation with men. The baby-daughter is cared for as tenderly as

the little son, and child-marriage is unknown, while old age is

respected and watched over. Marriage is not as much a matter of trade

as it usually is among heathen people, and divorce is less common and

more governed by just and humane laws. Their treatment of the sick is

absurd in the extreme, so far as true care and healing are concerned

(as will appear in the chapter on that subject), but their intention

seems to be to do for their suffering ones all that their limited

knowledge and superstitious beliefs allow.

TRAVELING.

The great need of Laos is a better outlet for trade. At present these

little kingdoms are practically shut in from the outside nations.

There are parts of this country which can only be reached by

elephant-traveling, so dense are the jungles and so difficult the

passage. Missionaries laboring here are more isolated from the rest of

the world than at most stations, as will appear from the following

statements: There is no established line of boats going and coming, as

upon our own waters, but all transporting is done by private

individuals, and is only an occasional or incidental occurrence. For

this reason our inland missionaries have to wait sometimes from three

to five months before receiving any mail-matter from Bangkok, and in

one instance Cheung Mai had no mail for eight months. At Rahang

gentlemen may leave the river and complete the journey to Cheung Mai

by elephant, but ladies could not endure the ride, it is such a very

tiresome mode of travel. The elephant is a faithful and indispensable

servant in that land of mountains. All overland transportation

throughout Laos is carried on by means of elephants and oxen. Large

droves of oxen are frequently seen traveling single file behind a

leader decked with a mask fancifully made out of shells covering his

whole face, while from between his horns a large peacock tail rises

and sweeps gracefully, though comically, over his back. Each ox is

laden with an immense pair of baskets thrown over saddle-bag fashion,

and in these are placed the articles for transportation. Sometimes

every ox is covered nearly all over with strings of little bells,

which add some life to the scene. The peddlers from the north do a

large trade with Siam and Laos, and the Shan caravans are almost

entirely composed of these oxen, which give warning of their approach

by a musical sound of tinkling bells echoing through the forest glades

and from the steep mountainsides. The object of the mask upon the

leader is to protect the caravan from the assaults of evil spirits.

The Yunnan caravans are composed of small ponies and mules. To prevent

delay from grazing along the road, a ratan muzzle is provided.

Elephants also are decorated with bells to give notice of their

approach to caravans coming from an opposite direction. As they tramp

steadily along they regale themselves with the tender shoots of

overhanging trees. When crossing a stream they generally take a

trunkful of water whether thirsty or not.

Official passports are curious documents, consisting of long narrow

strips of palm-leaf coiled into a ring, and at each end is an embossed

stamp. This stamp determines the real weight of the document, and is

the first point examined before reading the order. These leaves are

almost imperishable, being tough and entirely unaffected by water, and

for such a purpose are superior to paper. When the writing grows

indistinct it is easily made legible by wetting the finger and rubbing

it over the leaf, thus cleansing the smooth surface and filling the

scratches with a thin film of dirt. Such a passport frequently

includes an order to inferior officials to furnish the traveler with

the necessary elephants for his journey. Throughout Laos written

official documents are almost invariably thus scratched with a style

on a strip of palm-leaf.

The enormous number of wild elephants in the forests and domesticated

elephants in the towns strikes one with amazement. Tigers, deer, wild

hogs, pea-fowls and jungle-chickens also abound in the forests; while

dogs, cats, crows and lizards are among the domesticated pets. The

country is rich, not only in valuable timber, but in minerals. The

opening up of the market by railroad would result in immediate profit,

bringing down the Laos products and taking back in exchange English

and American manufactures, for which a large and increasing demand

would be readily created.

LAOS OIL AND WINE.

Cocoa and betel-nut trees abound in Cheung Mai. Oil is made from the

former, and the latter produces an article of commerce.

Laotians have their wine as well as more civilized nations, but they

get it from a tree instead of a vine. A party of friends who were

traveling near Lakon in returning from a walk in the environs

encountered some Laotians carrying vessels of bamboo filled with a

liquid which at first they supposed to be water. On tasting it,

however, they discovered that it was the wine of the country,

sweet-flavored and by no means disagreeable to the palate――not unlike,

indeed, the product of some of the Rhenish vineyards. It was palm

wine, freshly made. It will not keep more than four-and-twenty hours

without fermentation. The Laotians offered to conduct the strangers to

a neighboring plantation, where they might observe the different

processes of its manufacture. The offer was accepted, and the party

soon arrived at a clearing which was thickly planted with great

borassus palms. To collect the wine――which is, in fact, the sap of the

tree――nothing more is necessary than to make an incision in the middle

of the head of the tree at the point where the leaves branch off, and

suspend beneath a bamboo, into which the sap falls drop by drop. In

order to reach the summit of these huge palms, which are straight and

smooth as the mainmast of a ship, the Laotians have invented a simple

and ingenious process. They transform the palm into a veritable ladder

by attaching to the trunk, with small strips of flexible ratan,

projecting laths of bamboo, which, jutting out to right and left at

intervals of twelve to fourteen inches, form so many “rungs” and

enable the ascent of the tree to be rapidly and easily accomplished.

[Illustration: TAPPING THE BORASSUS PALM.]

INCIDENTS OF MISSION-LIFE.

There are bright gleams ever and anon revealing themselves in the

pictures given us of the life of our missionaries in this lonely

corner of the world, showing that God does not leave his servants here

to sadness and discouragement. A young missionary thus describes a

visit to the wife of the king of the province, by courtesy called a

queen:

“I want to tell you of a novel entertainment Mrs. Cheek and myself

enjoyed last week. The queen has long been wishing for a dress made

like ours, and at last she prevailed on Mrs. Cheek to make it. The

material was black summer silk, and Mrs. Cheek made a pretty, short

_princesse_, white lace at neck and sleeves and lavender bows――very

pretty indeed. While it was being made we laughed over visions of bare

feet beneath a black silk awkwardly adjusted and a yellow cotton

scarf. When the dress was finished Mrs. Cheek invited me to go with

her to the queen’s and try to persuade her to let us show her how to

wear it. I was only too willing. The queen received us very kindly,

and was delighted with the dress. Mrs. Cheek suggested that she put it

on while we were there, and she laughed and said she was ashamed, but

soon invited us into her bedroom to help her dress. Mrs. Cheek had

provided the necessary underclothes, and after much instruction they

were properly adjusted. How we were to get the dress over her sacred

head was a question, but she answered it by putting it on herself. I

buttoned it, pinned the neck, and put on her diamond pin and necklace,

and then we stood off to get the effect. The transformation was as

pleasing as it had been sudden, and we were delighted. The queen

seemed to know that the dress was suitable, and instead of being

awkward she was at perfect ease. Our fears were not at all realized;

even the bare feet seemed dignified. The queen in the native costume

looks tall and spare, but this costume rounded her form out and made

her look quite queenly. When the king came in to see her he was very

much pleased, and told her she must have another dress just like it.

We had a very pleasant visit, and returned home well pleased. Mrs.

Cheek is now suffering for her generosity, for Chow O’Boon has sent

cloth to have dresses made for herself and daughter, and other

princesses are wishing to have the whole costume.”

Another enlivening incident is told in these words:

“I must tell you of the latest great excitement we have created. Many

years ago our mission-compound was a temple-ground, but the temple was

all in ruins when the mission took this land, and the débris was used

for leveling the ground, and in this débris an old idol was buried.

This has always been considered a very sacred spot, and many people

have brought offerings of fruit and flowers to be placed near the spot

where the idol was supposed to be. We have always refused them

admission to our grounds, but they often come at night unknown to us

and bring their offerings. Last week we were having our bank of the

river diked, and the workmen found the idol. Mr. Wilson had them

disinter it. As soon as the people heard what was done they came in

great numbers to see the god they had been so long worshiping――an

image of Buddha, of sandstone, about five feet high, sitting in

Oriental fashion on a large stone pillar. It had doubtless once been

gilded, but not a ray of glory remained, and it was both headless and

crippled in one arm. The next day Mr. Wilson took an axe and

demolished the god. Then you should have seen the people, and

especially the children, come and peep through the fence, and, half

frightened at the sacrilegious deed that was being done, hurry away

again. We intend to utilize this old relic by making a garden-seat of

the pedestal and a mound for ferns of the broken pieces.”

Another lady describes a picnic given to some newly-arrived

missionaries by a Cheung Mai princess:

“At four A. M. my clock struck the alarm, and we opened our eyes to

find it still dark. It did not take us long to dress. Lighting the

oil-stove, we soon had boiling water, and coffee, which, with mango

sauce and bread and butter, gave us a light breakfast before the long

trip began. Just before six I ran down to the gate and saw the four

elephants crossing the river; to my astonishment, the young prince,

Chow Kope, was driving one of them. Like most boys, he thought it

would be fun to throw aside the dignity of the princeship for a while.

He is a bright, intelligent and winning boy. He drove his elephant up

to the front veranda, raised the floor of the howdah (a little house

placed on the back of the elephant, and in which we ride), stored our

baskets, shawls, etc. in a sort of catch-all, and then, putting down

the floor, spread my boat-mattress over it, and placed the pillows at

one end that I might lie down if I wished to. Our drivers sit upon the

heads of the elephants, climbing up by means of the chain which holds

the howdah on, and using the knee of the fore leg of the elephant for

a stirrup, or rather a step-up. The elephant, when punched on the

knee, holds up his foot; the driver places _his_ foot on the broad

step made by the elephant’s knee, and, catching hold of the chain,

swings himself up to the monster’s head, where he sits――monarch of all

he surveys. Taking Chow’s hand, I reached the elephant’s head, and

then perched myself, as comfortably as you can imagine, in my little

house. Others of the party mounted elephants, and some rode on

horseback.

“We started off, moving slowly but surely. Crossing at the elephant

ford, we soon reached the road at the east gate of the city-wall;

following the road till we reached the north-west gate, we struck out

across the rice-fields――great plains, with only now and then a little

cluster of trees. We could command a fine view of the plains, and the

atmosphere was so clear that, for the first time, I saw the belt of

mountains which encircles the valley wherein Cheung Mai is nestled.

The mountain to which we were going seemed to be only about two miles

away, but was in reality four miles. The rice-field road took us

across some little brooks, which the elephants must have enjoyed, for

they filled their trunks with water, and every few minutes amused us

by throwing it over themselves, till one would almost have supposed

that that long proboscis was an unfathomable reservoir. Before

reaching the mountain proper we came into the woods, composed of

bamboo and a multitude of other trees and shrubs of which I did not

know the names, and a dense undergrowth. The path from this place up

the mountain was narrow, rough and steep, but not once did the

clumsy-looking creatures stumble. They frequently came to places so

steep that it seemed as though it were folly to attempt to climb up,

but up they went, carefully, slowly, placing the knees of their fore

legs on the high step, then drawing up the other feet, never missing

their footing. At the foot of the mountain we saw the stream Hoa Kao,

which we followed in the already beaten pathway. Up, up we went, over

rocks and shrubs, and so close to the edge of precipices from one

hundred to one hundred and fifty feet high that it seemed as if we

must fall over. Oh, it was grand! At one place on the mountain-side we

had a very fine view of the country for miles.

“You may wonder how the drivers guide the elephants. A knock on the

right side of the head means turn to the left, a knock on the left

means go to the right, one on the forehead means go slowly. They use,

in thus guiding these beasts, a bamboo stick two feet long with a

prong on the end of it. It did seem wonderful that they were so easily

managed. When we came to a steep place Chow would say ‘_Coy_’

(carefully).

“At last, after a two hours’ ride, we saw the princess Chow O’Boon,

with her train of servants, waiting for us on a large flat rock by the

stream. With their many-colored skirts and scarfs, dark skins, black

hair and shining eyes they looked like a band of gypsies. Here my

elephant carefully knelt down, and, stepping on to its head, a man

helped me, and once more I was on _terra firma_. This spot was as far

as the elephants could go, but Chow’s slaves picked up our luggage,

and we walked to where the stream was quite narrow. By its banks were

great flat rocks, and projecting over these and at a height of thirty

feet was a very large umbrella-like rock. It must have projected

twenty-five feet, and was about seventy feet long. Under its shelter

we had our dinner, and after this a nice resting-time. Having brought

our bathing-suits, we went up the stream later in the day and had a

delightful bath. At four o’clock we started for home. The ride back

was delightful, though it was quite exciting coming down the mountain.

The sky was beautiful: low in the horizon were dark clouds threatening

rain; above them the lighter clouds changed from golden to scarlet,

then gradually back to golden. A pleasant breeze was blowing, and had

not the fact that I was riding an elephant kept me awake I should have

gone to sleep. We reached home about seven o’clock, and all pronounced

Hoa Kao a beautiful stream. We felt very grateful to Chow O’Boon for

giving us the use of her elephants and thus affording us so much

pleasure.”

* * * * *

But better perhaps than all else of reward or comfort in a

missionary’s experience are the consistent life and triumphant death

of one rescued from the darkness and superstition of his people and

brought into the kingdom of God. The man mentioned in the following

account, the first Laos convert, had for a number of years been

walking with God in humble faith:

“Dear old Nan Intah is at rest――gone to be with Jesus whom he loved. I

wish that many of those who talk so much about the failure of

mission-work could have been at his bedside and seen his resigned and

peaceful death.

“When told that he could not live through the day, he turned to his

eldest child and committed the mother to his care. He gave his hand to

each of us first, then to his dear faithful wife and children and

grandchildren, and last to the church-members, saying to them, ‘Be

patient! be patient! trust in Jesus, all of you.’ To his youngest son

he said, ‘I am walking on the way you all must go; only be ready for

our Lord. Oh, my son, do not fall from the right path. Trust in the

Lord now, and do his work, as I have tried to do. You will suffer many

trials, but they will be forgotten when the day of reward comes. You

plant the rice-fields in the water and in the rain, but three months

from now you will gather the harvest. Learn from your yearly work the

lesson of life, and strengthen yourself in Jesus.’ He suffered

greatly, but toward the last he lay quietly as if sleeping, then

suddenly opened his eyes and looked at me as if he would speak, but he

was not looking at me, for his eyes were full of light and joy. A

smile passed over his face, and at the same instant he breathed his

last.

“The children were violent in their grief, but the dear old wife and

mother would say, ‘Let us rejoice rather that father is now free from

suffering. Jesus saved him from sin, and now has only taken him to

himself. God has called him home before us, but we may follow and be

with him. Be patient and trust, as your father said.’ She was

heartbroken herself, and nearly exhausted with the long, patient

nursing, and yet she would only say, ‘Loong Nan never complained in

all his two years’ sickness. Let us not complain of what the Lord has

done.’

“The men made a teak-wood coffin and Mr. Wilson lined it with fresh

white muslin; then the body of our beloved old elder, the first Laos

convert, was put in it and carried to the worship-room, where his

voice had often been heard in prayer. The whole land was so flooded

that it was impossible to dig a grave, so the coffin was placed on the

surface of the ground and a brick wall built around it. This could not

be done in the public burying-ground, and we laid our dear old Loong

Nan in our own garden under the mango trees. Every one said, ‘How

different from a heathen burial!’

“Do I believe that Jesus is? Yes, as I believe that I live now. Nan

Intah, a poor ignorant Laos, in this remotest corner of the globe,

believed the precious story of our Lord and received the promise, ‘I

will not fail thee nor forsake thee.’ ‘I have called thee by thy name;

thou art mine.’ That bright look of surprised joy,――I thank our Lord

for permitting me to see it, and it has strengthened my faith in him.”

With this story of the peaceful death and Christian burial of a man

but a little time ago a believer in witchcraft, a worshiper of spirits

and of Buddha, knowing nothing of God or Christ or his own soul, we

leave the general subject to look more particularly at the Laos

country and people.

CHAPTER XXIII.

_FROM BANGKOK TO CHEUNG MAI._

As the newly-arrived missionary for Laos stands in Bangkok and looks

“up the river,” the five hundred miles that lie between him and Cheung

Mai mean more to him perhaps than any of the same number he has

traversed since leaving his native land. It means from sixty to ninety

days’ travel in a rocking boat, and when accomplished puts him in one

of the most isolated outposts of the Church.

The boats for the journey, with a Laos crew are sent down from Cheung

Mai, as they are constructed to meet the peculiarities of the upper

Menam, its changing channels, its shallows and its rapids. The hull is

of light draught, and in the larger boats is about thirty feet long

and widens to the breadth of six or seven feet across the deck. At

either end it rises from the water in a sharp, narrow curve, that of

the stern being broadened and finished with an ornamentation which

resembles a fish’s tail. This is the design, and poetical it may be,

but in appearance it is clumsy and unsymmetrical in the general

contour of the boat. The cabin at the stern, in dimensions about five

by seven feet, is used as a sitting- and sleeping-room. The middle

deck is appropriated to the storing away of goods, boxes, trunks,

etc., and the bow is occupied by the boatmen, where they sit when

rowing or walk when poling, and where they eat and sleep. The middle

deck is covered over with bamboo wickerwork. It forms an arch, and is

so low that one cannot stand up in it. The roof of the cabin is of the

same material, but of finer braid, is separate from that of the middle

deck, and about two feet higher, so that one can stand comfortably in

the centre of it. The bow has an adjustable cover, which the boatmen

slide on to the cover of the middle deck during the day and replace

over the bow at night. The three sides of the cabin toward the river

have the upper parts entirely open. Screens of bamboo matwork are

fastened on the outside by strings of ratan, which answer the purpose

of hinges. These “shutters” can be raised to any angle, and are

propped outward by slender bamboo sticks. Being tied to the screen,

they are always at hand.

The crew consists of a captain and from six to eight boatmen. It is

quite an imposing sight when the Laos king starts out with a fleet of

forty or fifty of these boats, each taking place in line according to

the rank of the passengers, the king’s boat at the head with the

Siamese flag aloft, and gongs sounding the departure.

Our missionary fleet seldom exceeds three boats, and is minus the

flags and gongs, but instead has the waving of hats and handkerchiefs

by the outward bound, which is answered by the watchers on the banks.

“Bon voyage!” and “God speed you!” mingle with the farewells of the

company on the receding boats until each is lost to the other’s sight.