A short word about some sculptures we see on the three higher galleries.
No double series are to be seen there, but the hewn panels, especially
those of the back-walls of the second and fourth gallery, are a little
higher, and have been partly modeled in an excellent style.
Wilsen’s and Leemans’ engravings are not always true representations of
the sculptures themselves, f. i. no: 214 (W. L.) representing the
unpardonably bad drawing of _Maitrakanyaka’s_ mother. But for professor
Speyer’s acute observation she would have been never recognised perhaps,
and this group would then have remained unexplained for ever, if this
sculpture, and so many other ones, might happen to be ruined at all.
Fortunately enough, I ordered this group to be photographed for about 4
years ago, and these photos can’t possibly lie[59].
The productions, formerly taken by Mr. van Kinsbergen to the cost of the
Dutch Government, are beyond my reach, and so I’ve not been able to
control whether this sculpture has been photographed or not. I think it
was not.[60].
Let me mention another example of Wilsen’s inaccuracy, the _thirtieth_
sculpture we see on the back-wall of the _second_ gallery, and so much
the more, because it might have been easily photographed. More than one
expert did so, among others, in 1901 (in my presence) the known _Padang_
and _Atyèh_ photographer C. Nieuwenhuis. Comparing this photo with
Wilsen’s drawing we shall perceive that the two inner-pilasters of the
small temple have been wrongly drawn, and that the outer-pilasters,
behind the standing women, have been _forgotten_; that the _prabha_
(glory) _behind_ the saint’s head, we see sitting _inside_ this small
temple, impossibly goes upward before the upper-threshold of the
entrance; and that the young lions and the throne’s carpet have been
disfigured as well as the garlands and prayer-bells, both in form and
placing. This also refers to the visitor’s parasol, and to the
flower-offering we see near him. The second parrot, just above the right
bodhi-tree, and one flower-piece to the right under this tree, have been
wholly left out. This visitor’s hand _flatly_ folded for a _sĕmbah_
(salaam) has not been folded _flatly_, because the finger-tips only
touch each other, so that the _sĕmbah_ itself is to be recognised no
more. The right foot of this man the drawer also forgot[61].
It is not difficult to show such mistakes in other drawings of Wilsen’s;
and I therefore suppose them not to be relied upon for the explanation
of further particulars.
There where Wilsen copied monks (_bhiksyus_) he nearly always raised
them to _Buddhas_ by decorating their clean-shaven heads with the
hair-crown, the _tiara_ or _usynîsya!_ as if he, who didn’t even know
the text the sculptor had followed, knew far better than the latter! And
don’t we know how he, just like Ovid in his _Metamorphoses_, changed
women into men or otherwise?
I further point to the above mentioned sculpture because of the worship
of the _bodhi-tree_ characterised by parasols and _tyĕmaras_
(fly-flaps), rosettes and prayer-bells. Such fig-trees are still
cultivated and honoured by all the _Ceylon_ (and elsewhere) pagodae even
at this day, and in consequence of this worship by buddhistic ancestors
the Sundas and Javanese always respect _kiaras_ and _wĕringins_
(_banyan-trees_) and other akin _Ficaceae_.
Such trees as we always see on the _alun-aluns_, the front-places of
_kratons_ and _dalĕms_ of princes and native chiefs originally meant, I
think, a recognition to _Buddha_’s fig-tree. The preacher and his
doctrine are forgotten here in Java, but one of the forms of this
worship still exists.
I mention the _eighteenth_ and the _twenty-second_ sculpture (eastern
staircase, _fifth_ corner, 2 and _sixth_ corner, 1) because of the
winged shell, the _syankha_, provided with _payongs_ and _tyĕmaras_ as a
sign of dignity.
Even now Javanese princes carry the _tyåkrå_, the _trisulå_ and other
weapons of deities in their _ampilan_[62], and so Vishnu’s _tyankra_
doesn’t mean that the person whom it is carried after, should refer to
this deity, though it is true that the _Buddha_ of the _Mahâyânists_
must be this god’s _avatâra_.
Among the following imageries I more especially see Hindu-gods as
Buddha’s predecessors. (_Bodhisattvas_).
The four-armed sculpture we see on 18 (_southern_ staircase, _fourth_
corner 5), in Buddha posture on a throne carried by a bull, the _nandi_,
the _vâhana_ or Shiva’s carriage, makes us think, even without any other
characteristic, of a _Bodhisattva_, perhaps. The lost head might have
given more certainty.
Similar images we find on 100, 101, 102 and 104 W. L.[63].
On the first (_northern_ staircase, _second_ corner, 1) we see a
four-armed sculpture on a lotus-throne in Buddha posture, with the
glory, and in his left hand an elephant’s hook and a flower. The objects
in his right hand are to be recognised no more. The throne itself has
been adorned with elephants, lions and _nâgas_. The four arms near the
single face may possibly refer to Vishnu or another deity, but not to
Brahma which we see generally hewn four-faced: the small Buddha image in
the crown only speaks of Buddhism[64].
And as Buddha, according to the northern church, had been Vishnu’s
_avatâra_, this deity may by no means raise our astonishment because of
his being represented here as a _Bodhisattva_.
Even the following sculpture (2 after the _second_ corner) has been hewn
four-armed, but too badly damaged to be recognised as the deity it
should represent.
This also refers to the third sculpture (3 after the corner). The _six_
arms may point to Shiva.
The fourth sculpture (5 after the same corner, W. L., 104) would not be
easily recognised on Wilsen’s drawing. On the ruin itself however, there
is no doubt whatever, because we here see clear enough that the
_upavîta_ is nothing else but the _Cobra_ (snake) with a nicely modeled
and crowned head. And this only speaks of Shiva or of his son Ganesha
who has been always represented as an elephant or with an elephant’s
head so that here he can’t be meant as such.
Another sculpture (W. L., 106, the _seventh_ after the _second_ corner)
is still note-worthy, because the temple wherein it sits (_not_ on a
lotus-cushion) has been crowned by five shivaïtic _trisyulas_. Should
this be a _woman_’s image it then may represent a _Târâ_ or female
deity, but it hasn’t any token to be recognised as Durgâ, the _syakti_
of Shiva[65].
Unique of its kind is the _sixty-ninth_ sculpture on the back-wall of
the following, _third_, gallery (_northern_ staircase, _second_ corner,
2).
To the left we see a deity (a Bodhisattva, perhaps) in a temple crowned
by _eleven trisyulas_. To the right such another deity (or greatness?)
on a lower seat. Between these two stands a tree the branches of which
don’t bear leaves or fruit, but swords and daggers. And beneath there we
see a cauldron full of boiling contents hanging over a flaming fire.
Next to this we see three (armed) men guarding three fettered prisoners
who are likely to ask for mercy to the second, less great deity. It
seems however, that one of the keepers is waiting for further
instructions of the deity we see in the small temple.
The eleven _trisyulas_ make us think of Shiva again, perhaps as Kâla,
the god of death, the all destroying _time_.
Leemans thought this representation should be connected with a
particular event or, should refer, in a general sense, to hellish
punishments. The last mentioned explanation seemed acceptable to me, but
then when taken in a pure symbolical sense.
The king of _Siam_ simply called this a representation of hell. “Buddha
_sees_ hell.”
We may leave the walled terraces after having seen two other sculptures
we find on the back-wall of the fourth and highest gallery which has no
more than 20 angles and hewn wall-panels.
First of all I’ll mention the _fifty-seventh_ sculpture (3 after the
_northern_ staircase). There we see a Buddha throning in a temple upon
which we see, to the right, a flaming _tyakra_ and, to the left, a
_crescent of the moon_ floating in the air on lotus-cushions.
And last of all I’ll point to the _seventieth_ sculpture (_fifth_ corner
2), showing us a similar representation, but where the _tyakra_ has been
replaced by the _disc of the sun_.[66]
One can’t possibly wish a more eloquent witness of the harmony of the
_tyakra_ and _disc of the sun_, and of the connection there is between
these celestial bodies and the _Buddha_, between _Buddha_ and _Vishnu_
or, in other words, between the _Buddha-_ and _sun-worship_.
For completeness’ sake I further mention that on the back-wall of this
gallery are to be found many sculptures upon which more than _five_ till
_seventeen_ Buddhas have been hewn in different postures (mudrâs). In my
opinion the king of _Siam_ rightly observed that here can’t be meant any
_Dhyâni_-Buddha.
Foucher gave us another reasonable explanation of these sculptures by
connecting them with _Syrâvastî_’s _great wonder_ when the _Buddha_
covered all the heaven with the reflexions of his own body. For the sake
of brevity I therefore refer to that which has been mentioned hereabout
in my “_Oudheidkundige Aanteekeningen_” IV, p. 42 and 44.
It only remains for me now to speak a few words about the relievoes
major van Erp recognised to be _jâtaka_-representations guided as he was
by the text of the great work of Mr. Cowell’s and contributors.
In the lower series on the front-wall of the _first_ gallery we see, on
the second sculpture south of the eastern staircase, the _Bodhisattva_
ploughing his field as a farmer. Performing this task he suddenly finds
a treasure the fourth part of which he presents the needy. (W. L.,
engraving CXXXVI). This is the _Kanytyanakhandhajâtaka_.
In the upper series on the very same wall van Erp thought the last of
the 4 sculptures, after the _fourth_ corner west of the southern
staircase, to be another _Sigala-jâtaka_. In imitation of professor
Speyer’s however, I described this as the _jâtaka_’s conclusion, the
starving _sparrow_ asking the lion for a little bit of the prey he
killed shortly before. (W. L.’s engraving CLXX).
And in 5 _relievoes_ on the same front-wall, but on the northern side of
the ruin (not engraved in L’s) he meant he saw the _Mora-jâtaka_, where
the _Bodhisattva_, caught as a peacock by the hunter of the king of
_Bénarès_, teaches the doctrine to the prince.
Another _jâtaka_ has been still mentioned in Leemans’ (Engraving
CLXXXIII, and CLXXXIV and 3 other ones), where the _Bodhisattva_ died a
monkey when he sacrificed his life for the sake of his blind mother. His
younger brother did likewise all which can’t prevent the hunter from
shooting down even the mother-monkey after having first killed the two
others.
It is the _Syula-Nandiya-jâtaka_ in which the wicked hunter is being
severely punished.
According to the pâli-text the _Buddha_ himself related that this former
hunter afterwards became his wicked nephew Devadatta; his younger
brother-monkey Ananda, and that their blind mother was afterwards
reincarnated in his step- and foster-mother Gotamî[67].
Van Erp gives us at last an explanation of another _relievo_ we see on
the lower series of the same wall, but this hasn’t been engraved in
Leemans’ work either. Consulting the ground-plan we come across number
120 which refers to the panel it has been sculptured upon. Van Erp
possesses a photography of this.
It corresponds pretty well to the relievoes I described as 11 and 12 of
the upper series behind the second corner south of the eastern
staircase, because in the two jâtakas the _Bodhisattva_ represents a
hare who flings herself into a fire to feed a hungry traveller; in this
_Syasya-jâtaka_ however, the mentioned hungry man does not represent the
deity Indra but rather a _risyi_ or anachorete, who rescues the hare out
of the flames as well as Indra did.
I further mention that each of the terraces under foot lies about 3
yards higher than the preceding one, and communicates with each other by
staircases of about 10 treads on an average.
Further, that each gallery between the walls is about 2 yards wide, and
that these walls have a thickness of 1½ yard.
And finally, that there are among the architectural ornaments, I didn’t
mention, numerous _nâga_-heads with opened mules and upward curled
trunks which _formerly_ carried off the rain-water (from under all these
walls) to outside from terrace to terrace. _Nowadays_ this water
permeates through the time-worn stones into the rather loose soil of the
hill till _under_ the ruin. Dropping through all lower joints, and
between the stones falling asunder more and more upon which the heavy
stûpa has been built, it _can’t be otherwise_ or all this is to destroy
the ruin more and more, and sooner or later there will come a time when
the temple itself shall partly or wholly fall to the ground, ... when
the Dutch Government don’t know to prevent this by _doing all that will
be indisputably necessary_.
And as it is a truth not to be denied that _solar heat_ and _rain-water_
are the two prevailing factors to cause the destruction of these and
other ruins the only way to prevent all this _must_ be therefore found
by _shutting out_ solar-heat and rain, that is, by means of a protecting
_cover_ such as drawn up and offered to the Dutch Government by Mr. van
de Kamer. Any other manner of “restoration” will turn out to be a
failure even when one may succeed in joining together all loose stones,
and in cementing all the gaps. For the stone itself (_andesit_-lava) is
so very porous that is used anywhere in Java for filtering-stones.
However, it doesn’t alter the fact that there will be no much chance
that the Dutch Government will do what I also recommended her as the
only thing needful.[68] The late Dr. _Brandes_, the first official
president of the “_Oudheidkundige Kommissie voor Java en Madoera_” had
proposed a far less sovereign but cheaper effort to the rectification of
this sorrowful state of things, and even the authorities in Netherland
concurred with this idea of his, though they would be inclined to think
quite otherwise if they could _unprejudicedly_ examine this question _in
loco_. And the newly appointed president, the competent scholar and
great authority on Indian matters, shall _he_ think otherwise?[69]. Or
will the rain-water continually permeate through and under the
invaluable ruin, and carry away its bottom, and assure at last the ruin
of the richest and most beautiful Hindu-work of art we possess, which,
in all India and even in the mainland, speaks of the Buddha?... Should
we then, as a civilised colonising power, not be worthy of such a
treasure?
Oh, could I only persuade the Indian and Dutch authorities into
_willing_ and _acting_ in quite another and better sense!
The major of the Indian engineer corps, Mr. van Erp, did everything he
could, notwithstanding the limited means the Dutch Government allowed
him to dispose of, and he consequently co-operated to the preservation
of this precious ruin for a longer or shorter period of time. But this
is not yet enough. Granting the means of our (Dutch) small empire to be
too feeble to such a purpose—why then not try to form a
_Båråbudur-Society_ like the French founded a _Société d’Angkor_ in
behalf of the ruins of _Kamboja_, which not only found support from the
side of fellow-country-men in Europe and Farther-India or anywhere else,
but also from foreigners?