Travels in the Far East Part 9

We made a special tour, and noted many beautiful homes with surrounding grounds and a general air of thrift. We were once more reminded of Great Britain's supremacy in the Far East; it is surprising, the vast amount of colonizing, as well as civilizing, she has accomplished.

In Penang, Chinamen were everywhere seen and Chinese business houses predominated. The Malay was, however, to be found as he should be on the Malay peninsula. At first it was difficult for us to realize that we had left the East, Penang being the portal of the Far East, of which Singapore is the gateway, her harbor being a famous shipping point.

At 11 A.M. we were sailing on for that port, which is regarded as the Paris of the Far East by the wealthy nabobs who frequent the city. The Chinese coolie who officiated as jinrikisha man was a st.u.r.dier specimen of humanity than the one seen at Colombo, and we could enjoy a ride without the conscientious scruples experienced at the former place.

Arriving at Singapore, we found we must postpone our visit there, as the steamer _Rembrandt_, of the Dutch line, was soon to leave for Java.

It was late in the afternoon when we sailed from Singapore; we caught some glimpses of the sh.o.r.e and noted the finest group of the traveller's palm we had as yet seen; also some pretty bungalow homes close to the water's edge, with tiny gardens enclosing palms and flowers.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _The ca.n.a.l in the old city of Batavia_]

There was scarcely a ripple to be detected, and the elements were hushed; the brilliant rays of the setting sun shed a halo over the peaceful landscape.

We imagined there must be some premonition of the event which was to take place in the night, namely, the pa.s.sing of the equatorial line; and we tried to keep our senses alert in order not to miss the subtle significance of so unusual an event, but in the morning there was the humiliating reflection that sleep had "won the day"! At noon we began to realize that we were at Summer's door and would soon learn the true quality of the tropical heat, of which we had had as yet only a prelude.

The Java Sea was as placid as the Strait of Malacca had been, and there was little to break the monotony save a pa.s.sing steamer, a glimpse of Sumatra's sh.o.r.e, and an occasional island. Another night pa.s.sed, and in the morning we were at the harbor of Tandjong Priok, which is nine miles from the city of Batavia. We arrived there in a pouring rain; we were now in a land where rain is prevalent, this being the wet monsoon season.

After a very slight custom-house inspection was completed, we left by train for Batavia, one of the capitals of Java. We were at once impressed with the variety of the landscape and the tropical richness of the trees and shrubs. The Dutch aspect of the architecture and the ca.n.a.ls were evidence of the influence of the fatherland, but the natives seemed to be a mixture of Javanese and Malays, while the Chinese, as elsewhere, were to be seen in large numbers.

The ca.n.a.ls are the princ.i.p.al feature of the old city of Batavia; but along the streets one detects also many business houses and banks, some of the largest being Chinese.

The Hotel des Indes is located in the new city called Werengen. On entering the enclosure which surrounds the hotel, a large banyan tree was the central object directly in front of the hotel proper, situated nearly in the centre of a square.

On three sides of the square are arranged a continuous series of one-story suite of rooms opening in front on a wide veranda, shut off from the adjacent suite by screens of stained gla.s.s and shaded by gla.s.s and awnings. This was the salon of the suite, furnished with rugs, chairs, centre table, and writing-desk. Here all waking hours are supposed to be pa.s.sed. The largest homes of the residents are similarly arranged; such an exterior forms the large drawing-room, often beautifully furnished. It all seemed new and novel to us, but the climax was reached when we saw even matrons on exhibition in these show boxes, dressed in loose jackets, sarongs drawn closely around them, and their bare feet simply encased in sandals; also stout Dutchmen in pajamas, and sometimes this costume was worn in the dining-room with the utmost unconcern, showing how customs vary in different countries.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Batavia, Java_]

The charming bungalow homes in the new city, surrounded by s.p.a.cious grounds, pleased us, as did the business houses; some fronting on ca.n.a.ls which were spanned by artistic bridges. The Museum of the Batavian Society of Arts and Sciences was rich in exhibits of Sumatra's and Borneo's products and handwork, as well as in Javanese antiquities and in articles of silver and gold workmanship, which were novel in design and skilfully executed. The building is cla.s.sic in its lines and very pleasing.

_February 18th_: An early train, 6 A.M., for Buitenzorg gave us the freshness of the morning for travel, and the two hours thus consumed were filled with exclamations of delight over the beauty of the scenery.

Soon after our arrival at the Hotel Belle Vue, we drove to the Botanical Gardens, where, like Peradeniya in Ceylon, a revelation awaited us.

Ma.s.ses of pink lotus, white lilies, Victoria Regia, and other varieties of the lily family formed great patches of color on the miniature ponds that were their setting. Orchids in greenhouses and on trees put forth their graceful flowers; palms of every description, candle trees with myriads of almost realistic candles which were suspended from the branches, sausage trees with veritable bolognas hanging from the limbs, bread-fruit trees, lovely vistas of the graceful banana, and groups of other foliage or shrubs surrounded us in abundance.

The Governor's s.p.a.cious residence looks out upon the park on one side, and a pretty summer-house overlooking a valley gave a picturesque touch to the place.[4] The ride around the city showed lovely homes set in varied greens, and a general air of thrift and prosperity prevailed.

The hotel is charmingly located and has pleasant features. It fronts on a garden, with a wide gallery overlooking the city. A square court in the rear is encircled by a series of rooms, with the front gallery looking on the court, and the back gallery facing a valley (the house is built on a side hill) through which runs a river with a tiny village on its border; while beyond a wide vista of cocoanut palms rises a range of mountains, Mt. Salak being the distinctive feature. Both galleries are well furnished, and here guests a.s.semble when in the hotel. The view from the rear gallery I have never seen surpa.s.sed in breadth, except perhaps by that in Granada, when from Miss Laird's balcony (near the Alhambra) we looked down upon the city, with the mountains beyond.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _View of Mt. Salak from the Hotel Belle Vue_]

The Javanese view was enjoyed for hours, as a heavy rain prevented our afternoon ride, and the letters that should have been written were somewhat neglected, owing to the view described.

One shrinks at being called at four o'clock in the morning, at having breakfast at five, and at taking a train at six, but such was our experience on February 19th. One leaves Buitenzorg for Garoet as the first streak of dawn appears; as we sped along, we realized more and more what tropical vegetation and abundant rain could produce, for the vivid greens and dewy freshness of the foliage surpa.s.sed even Ceylon's landscape, which in its turn had surpa.s.sed anything before seen, even our own South and Southern California not excepted; Java is indeed the garden of the world! With remote mountain views on either side of us and nearer aspects of palms and trees bearing names unknown, there were interspersed rice plantations, unlike the flat fields of Burma, cultivated in terraces rising one above the other on hilly slopes. An occasional tea plantation lay here and there, and some traces of coffee plantations; the cultivation of the bean has been partly abandoned owing to the blight about ten years since.

As the train climbed upward, our destination being Garoet, two thousand feet above the sea-level, the scenery grew less marked, but we were still encircled by the Gedeh Mountain range. The great Garoet plain consists of wide level stretches and extended rice-fields, less marked by terraces than those we had seen before; therein is situated the quaint village of Garoet, a favorite hill resort, where we found the noted Hotel van Horck with its reputation for neatness and restful hospitality. The one-story building has suites of rooms looking out on a s.p.a.cious garden, conventional in style, with its wealth of trees, shrubs, and flowers, also busts and statues. A large oval bed of brilliant crotons on one side of the garden, and another foliage bed that formed the base of a pyramidal vase on the other side, were especially admired.

The pretty little village of Garoet seemed to breathe a spirit of contentment, and it is quite a resort for people from a lower alt.i.tude.

It is also the starting-point for various excursions, some of which we took, but the daily rains proved an obstacle. The afternoon of our arrival we drove to a pretty lake, but a sudden rain prevented a sail to the island in an exceedingly quaint little kiosk, which rests on two long boats. The bad weather also prevented a visit to the Hot Springs, where baths of a rather primitive character are furnished.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _A village scene in Garoet, Java_]

The most noted excursion is to the crater of Papandajang. We departed on this quest, about five in the morning, driving eleven miles to the rest house at Tjiseroepan, where ponies and sedan chairs were furnished for the ascent, a distance of about six miles. Four of our party selected saddle horses, and four preferred sedan chairs (I took the latter). The chairs are carried by four men, two in front and two in the back, supporting on their shoulders long bamboo poles on which the sedan is placed. They were similar to those used in the ascent of Tiger Hill, at Darjeeling, but seemed to be more like palanquins, for one could half recline therein.

The ascent once begun, our eyes were riveted first on one side of the narrow roadway and then on the other, so diversified was the view: first patches of bananas, then palms and bamboo which formed an archway. Such was the continued landscape, while intervening s.p.a.ces were devoted to the cultivation of coffee. The chichona plant, from which quinine is made, was also seen, and one or two patches of tea plantations. A picturesque feature of this ride was a double hedge made of two rows of bamboo poles with an occasional horizontal support, between which were vines, low palms, and unknown plants; as we ascended farther low ferns formed a fringe at the base of the hedge. Never have I seen anything lovelier than this trellis of Nature, which extended about half-way up the ascent; then the way grew narrower and we were in the real jungle.

Here surprising wonders awaited us, towering palms and other trees, vines and giant ferns, some of which had taken root in crevices of a tall palm, producing a round basket effect. This was three times repeated on the trunks of several palms, a stray seed having, perhaps, settled there. It seemed to me as though the palm, if it could, would utter a protest.

The higher we went, the larger and more varied grew the ferns. There had been flowers all the way--wild phlox, the primrose, the creeping periwinkle, and white and red dentura, together with many trees of brilliant foliage similar in color to our Autumn tints. There was also a very tall bush with cl.u.s.ters of bright yellow blossoms, in size much like our wild rose. When nearer the crater, the trees became small and the vegetation more spa.r.s.e, until we reached the point where we left our chairs and commenced our final ascent, about one quarter of a mile, over broken pieces of lava. Then we arrived at the halting-point and gazed on the near crater, inhaling the sulphurous fumes, hearing the rumble, and seeing the clouds of vapor as they issued forth, with a mixture of bright yellow sulphur. The volcano is now inactive, the last eruption having taken place in 1772, when forty villages were destroyed. At this time the side of the crater towards us was broken. It is altogether a fine spectacle.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _The crater of Papandajang_]

Having partaken of our breakfast at ten-thirty, we prepared for our descent, when, alas! a pouring rain set in, and as the slight covering of the sedan chair afforded little protection, there was no avoiding a thorough wetting. We had thought of the fine views we would have in our descent, and were now glad of the occasional backward glances we had taken during our upward climb. These were fine, of great breadth, embracing distant mountains, nearer ones, and an occasional plain which is a characteristic feature of a Java landscape. The descent was very steep in places, and the footing of the men was rather uncertain; hence it was a relief when the task was accomplished. We viewed some new features every now and then, a noticeable one being a group of twelve very large banyan trees of the variety known as Werengen in a field near the rest house; their white gnarled trunks and limbs suggested the forest primeval.

The next morning we drove twelve miles to Leles, past the broad Leles plain, and nearly all the way through a shaded avenue of trees, at times forming a natural archway. The lake was most picturesque, with its three islands and varied sh.o.r.e line. On one side there was a small cultivated mountain sloping to the water's edge. A heavy rain prevented the afternoon excursion.

We left Garoet on February 22nd, for almost a day's railroad journey to Djokjakarta.

DJOKJAKARTA, _February 22nd_: We arrived at Djokjakarta on Sat.u.r.day, February 22nd, at 4 P.M. A drive followed, showing us an older and prettier place than Garoet, with a large Chinese quarter, in which the shops lacked much attraction.

The Sultan's palace was pointed out; it was by no means imposing. We saw his elephants, but declined to enter the enclosure where the tigers were confined. Some of the houses were Dutch in style; others were Javanese of the one-story bungalow type, with open fronts. Early the following day, at 6 A.M.., we drove to the ruined temple of Prambanam, and nine miles from Djokjakarta, we visited Chandi Kalasan ("chandi" means a mausoleum), a beautiful ruin, unfortunately too dilapidated to afford much satisfaction, but from the remains that have been found archaeologists base their belief that it was incomparably beautiful in conception and workmanship. We also went to another temple, Chandi Sewo, about half a mile distant, which also showed marks of great beauty.

We drove on, perhaps a mile farther, and came to a wonderful group of temples, dating about the same period, known as Prambanam, where we saw what excited our wonder and admiration. Though the ruins did not contain a single genuine Buddha figure, holding only many images of Hindu G.o.ds, archaeologists find ample proof that they were built by Buddhists (they have been called Hindu temples).

[Ill.u.s.tration: _The ruined temple of Prambanam_]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Bas-reliefs in the Siva Temple, Prambanam_]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _The stairs leading to a Prambanam temple_]

Time will not, however, permit an elucidation of them further than to state that Dr. Gronneman, a celebrated writer and archaeologist and an accepted authority, believes that a number of monuments and bo-trees have within a few years been hewn out around the base of each of the temples, these being covered with the traditional parasols; many of the dagoba-shaped bells have also been found,--a symbol of the tree under which Prince Siddhartha attained Buddha-hood. Dr. Gronneman also calls them Prambanam. The ruins form a group of eight temples or chandis,--three greater and three lesser ones in two parallel rows,--the former on the west, the latter on the east side of the s.p.a.cious square, with two smaller ones at the ends. These were doubtless mausolea built over the ashes of princes or chiefs. The temples were probably constructed toward the end of the eighth century, and unfinished sculptures show that the work was stopped before completion. It is stated that possibly this may have been caused by the overthrow of the Empire at that time. There are two flights of stairs on each side, the lower leading to a landing which is raised a few feet above the terrace, but in the corners between the stairs and the wall of the bas.e.m.e.nt are miniature temples of exquisite workmanship, the front and side walls of which had niches, each containing a high-relief figure of a man or a woman. The upper flight of stairs (three sides lead to the entrance to three chapels with pyramidal roofs of their own) have suffered much devastation.

The largest of the temples has a broken image of Siva, more than life size. This, together with the nature of the bas-reliefs, has caused archaeologists to name it the Siva Temple. In like manner the second temple has been called Brahma, and the third Vishnu, thus including the Indian triumvirate of G.o.ds. On the upper walls of the bas.e.m.e.nts of all the princ.i.p.al temples are several series of sculptures, each following one division of the wall. Most of the niches contain small lions with curled manes, while some in the projecting part of the wall have three heavenly nymphs standing in a stately manner with arms interlaced. A series of sculptures which has been preserved almost intact on the inner side of the parapet wall of the Siva Temple is a repet.i.tion of the first part of the Rama legend as told in the Indian epic, "Ramayana," and it is thought that the corresponding series of the other temples may have represented the sequel to that history. A ponderous cornice richly ornamented, which is now almost gone, runs over this series of sculptures. Another series was found on the walls of the temple itself a few feet higher than the terrace, and still higher up there is a more continuous series, but the arches and figures are lost in the almost general wreck which time and the elements have wrought. Only a hint of the character of these ruins has been given, but with the aid of the ill.u.s.trations, some idea of them, of their entire beauty, as well as of the imposing majesty of the sculptures, may be gained. The Loro Jonggram Temple has a celebrated bas-relief in an elaborate niche, called the "Three Graces."

[Ill.u.s.tration: _The Three Graces in the Lara Jongram Temple, Java_]

About a quarter of a mile distant from the Prambanam there is another group of temples covering the largest circ.u.mference of any other group in the region. The princ.i.p.al temple, much surpa.s.sing the others in size, stood on a raised rectangular terrace, enclosed by a low wall with a gateway in the middle of each side. A little lower there were twenty-eight temples forming a rectangular enclosure, and another more s.p.a.cious court was enclosed by forty-four temples. There was a still larger rectangular terrace with eighty temples, and a lower terrace with eighty-eight temples, making two hundred and forty in all; hence, by exaggeration, the name, "One Thousand Temples." Each of the temples, which diminish in size, forms a square with a little approach and small _steos_ leading to the inner room. The largest temple of the group was rich in detail and sculpture designs, which, like the Prambanam group, relate to the Indian triumvirate, Siva, Brahma, and Vishnu, with the same evidences, however, as to Buddhist origin. There were still other ruined temples in the vicinity which could not be visited, but we drove back the nine miles to Djokjakarta, feeling that we had had a rich morning's experience and also deeply impressed with the labor, patience, and skill which these ruins represented.

We arrived at the Hotel Mataram in time for luncheon in the pleasant open dining-room, leading to a garden filled with trees, from whose branches were suspended orchids of various hues. February 24th was the date fixed for a trip of twelve miles by carriage to the Buddhist temple, Boro Boedor, but the late rains of the monsoon season had carried away a bridge that must be crossed; hence a grave doubt arose as to whether we would be able to go. Our enthusiasm, however, led us to take the risk, with the result that on reaching the scene of the wreck we found an improvised footbridge and another train awaiting us on the opposite side. Our railway journey terminated, we took a carriage for a drive of several miles, stopping on our way at the old temple of Mendoet, small but very perfect in its construction, with fine bas-reliefs and large architectural ornaments; also some immense savage gargoyles, which were especially noticeable.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _The old temple at Mendoet_]

We ascended the stairs to the inner room, where was a large-sized figure of Buddha, with the attendant figures at each side called his sons, Buddhavista, meaning "future Buddhas." Driving on, we came to another missing bridge. Here we were taken across on a rude raft, the carriage following, and then the horses. As we drew near Boro Boedor, a feeling of awe came over us, for we were to behold a temple which for centuries had been buried from the sight of man. Indeed, until the debris of time was removed, after English occupation in 1811, not a hint of its existence even had been known. This work was undertaken by Sir Stamford Raffles before the cession of Java to the Dutch in 1816, and carried on, aided by eminent archaeologists. Much has been done by the Government and by an Archaeologist Society since 1885, and at the time we were there it was said that about one thousand workmen were employed on the temple.

The approach being over a hill, the view of the temple is suddenly disclosed, but from the rest house we had a side glimpse. This is confusing at first, and the structure seems too broad for the height, thus lacking in impressiveness; but as one approaches and the huge ma.s.s takes on color and expression, with the many-sided pyramids of dark gray stone, the ma.s.s of cupolas, spires, and walls surrounded by a high central dome, the impression taken altogether becomes almost overpowering. It is a structure difficult to describe, but a few outlines with the aid of the ill.u.s.trations may give you some idea at least of its size and impressiveness.

First, it is not a building in the ordinary sense and has no entrance.

It is the top of a hill, artificially lowered and encircled with galleries built by human hands. The lowest terrace, which is shown in the picture, forms the upper portion of a terrace wall, which is still submerged below the soil. This terrace has thirty-six sides, measuring three hundred and seventy-four feet in diameter. Below is a larger terrace, square in shape, estimated at five hundred feet; it is underground, while above it is another of the same shape as the middle terrace, from which it is reached by stairways on each of the four sides. Some years ago it was discovered that three terraces were of a later date than the original internal structure, which is more slender in shape, and that they were constructed in order to support the latter when it began to show signs of settling. The base of the lower terrace has been exposed in places in order to obtain photographs of the beautiful bas-reliefs, but it was subsequently covered, inasmuch as it would have been a grave mistake to run the risk of leaving it permanently exposed.