Chapter 4

In all probability, the masonry was shaken down by an earthquake, the Boro Budur being near three volcanoes. Restorative and preservative work is now being carried on by the Government, and some of the smaller temples in the Djocja district are restored in the original design.

There is a small hotel at the Boro Budur where one is recommended to stay when studying details, and we can well believe that sunrise as seen from the summit is a sight one should never forget. We saw it in the early afternoon when the heat vapours from the noontide sun partially obliterated the landscape, but even so it was impressive. Except on the right, where the mountains close in the horizon, the eye has a range of many miles over fertile alluvial plains, studded with coco and banana and palm trees, and every other patch of ground cultivated "like a tulip bed." Miss Marianne North, whose collection of paintings in Kew Gardens may be familiar to some of our readers, wrote of this view: "The very finest view we ever saw."

The Temples of Parambanan.

There are other Buddhist ruins in the neighbourhood of the Boro Budur; but the other more important collection is scattered over the region between Djocjakarta and Soerakarta. One small temple, the Tjandi Kali Bening, is reputed to be the gem of Hindu art in Java. This we did not see; but, on another day, in a victoria drawn by four small ponies, kept going by the wild gr-r-r-ee gr-r-r-eeing of our native running footman, we drove to the scattered temples on the Plain of Parambanan, where, with the help of another archaeological guide by Dr. I. Groneman, we were able to appreciate the beauties of these 1100-year-old centres of ancient religious devotees. These temples are the most interesting in the country, though lacking the extent and grandeur of the Boro Budur. Though they do not contain a single genuine Buddha figure, but many images of Brahmanic gods, Dr. Groneman says there are many reasons to justify the opinion that they were built by Buddhists, probably over the ashes of princes and grandees of a Buddhistic empire.

In his report to Sir Stamford Raffles on these Parambanan ruins, Captain George Baker, of the Bengal establishment wrote:--"In the whole course of my life, I have never met with such stupendous and finished specimens of human labour and of the science and taste of ages long since forgot, crowded together in so small a compass, as in this little spot, which, to use a military phrase, I deem to have been the headquarters of Hinduism in Java."

In Volume XIII of the "Asiatick Researches or Transactions of the Society instituted in Bengal for inquiring into the History and Antiquities, the Arts, Sciences and Literature of Asia" (Calcutta, 1820), Mr. John Crawfurd, who, apparently, visited Java in 1816, gives a long and interesting description of the ruins on the Plain of Parambanan. He describes the locale as ten miles from Djocjakarta, a valley lying between Rababu and Marapi to the north and a smaller southern range of high land.

A few of the ruins consist of single isolated temples, but the greater number are in groups, rows of small temples surrounding larger temples.

The shape of the smaller temples is worthy of observation. From the foundation to the lintels of the doors, they are of a square form. They then assume a pyramidal but round shape, and are decorated around by small figures resembling Lingas, while a larger Linga surmounts the whole building, forming the apex of the temple.

Invariably, the sites of the temples are adjacent to abundant supplies of clear water so much desired by the Hindus and so necessary to the performance of the ritual. Beside two rivers of the purest water, there is between the villages of Parambanan and Plaosan a small tank, evidently an appendage to the temples. This little piece of water is a square of about 200 feet to the side. The ground around it is elevated, and there is every appearance of its being an artificial excavation. The whole tank, when visited by Mr. Crawfurd, was covered with blue lotus, the flower of which is so conspicuous an ornament of the sculptures of the temple.

Then, as now, there was no evidence of Hindu descendants of the builders of these religious houses and places of worship, but the Javanese are as tolerant of various religious cults as the Chinese or the Japanese, and the visitor need not be surprised to find native visitors making what appears to be a pilgrimage to some particular shrine.

Mr. Crawfurd found barren women, men unfortunate in trade or at play, persons in debt and sick persons propitiating the Goddess Durga, "smeared with perfumed unguents or decked with flowers." This worship, too, was not confined to the lower orders. His Highness the Susuhunan when meditating an unusually ambitious or hazardous scheme made offerings to the image.

These temples are built of a hard dark and heavy species of basalt, the chief component of the mountains of Java. The stone is usually hewn in square blocks of various sizes, as is the case with the Boro Budur. The respective surfaces of the stones which lie on each other in the building have grooves and projections which key into each other as in the best masonry work to-day. They are regularly arranged in the walls in such a manner as to give the greatest degree of strength and solidity to the structure, and nowhere is cement or mortar utilised. There are no huge pillars or single blocks such as may be seen in other prehistoric edifices, and neither in boldness of design nor imposing grandeur have the temples presented any difficulties to the builders. There is nothing upon a great scale, nothing attempted outside the reach of the most obvious mechanical contrivance or the most ordinary methods of common ingenuity. The chief characteristic is the minute laboriousness of the execution. Nevertheless, the temples excite the imagination, and send the thoughts back to those primeval days when men sought to express their religious feeling through these elaborate monuments of hewn stone.

The Tjandi Kalasan, one of the most beautiful of the temples, is the only ruin in Central Java of which the exact date of construction has been learned with any degree of accuracy. This was ascertained from a stone found in the neighbourhood, inscribed in nagari characters. Two versions of the inscription were made--one by the Dutch scholar, Dr. J. Brandes, and the other by the Indian, Dr. R. G. Bhandarkar.

Dr. I. Groneman makes use of both versions to compile the following:--

"Homage to the blessed (or, reverend) and noble Tara.

"May she,--the only deliverer of the world, who, seeing how men perish in the sea of life, which is full of incalculable misery, is sure to save them by the three means--grant you the wished for essence, the salvation of the world by the Lord of gods and men.

"The guru (_i.e._ teacher) of the Sailendra prince erected a magnificent Tara temple. At the command (or, the instance) of the guru, the grateful ----(?) made an image of the goddess and built the temple, together with a dwelling (vihara, monastery) for the monks (bhikshus) who know the great vehicle of discipline (Mahayana).

"By authorisation of the king, the Tara temple and the monastery for the reverend monks have been built by his counsellors, the pangkur, the tavan, and the tirip (old Javanese civil officers, perhaps soothsayers or astrologers).

"The deserving guru of the Sailendra king built the temple in the prosperous reign of the king, the son of the Sailendra dynasty.

"The great king built the Tara temple in honour of the guru (to do homage to the guru) when 700 years of the Saka era were past.

"The territory of the village of Kalasa was bestowed on the congregation of priests (monks) in the presence of the pangkur, the tavan and the tirip, and the village chiefs (as witnesses).

"This great (incomparable) endowment was made by the king for the monks. It is to be perpetuated by the (later) kings of the Sailendra dynasty, for the benefit of the successive reverend congregations of monks, and be respected (maintained) by the wise pangkur, the good tivan, the wise tirip and others, and by their virtuous wives (according to Dr. Brandes, but "their virtuous foot-soldiers" according to Dr. Bhandarkar).

"The king also begs of all following kings that this bridge (or, dam) of charity, which is (a benefit) for all nations, may be perpetuated for all time.

"May all who adhere to the doctrine of the Jinas, through the blessings of this monastery, obtain knowledge of the nature of things, constituted by the concatenation of causes (and effects), and may they thrive.

"The ---- prince once more requests of (all) future kings that they may protect the monastery righteously."

This inscription, showing clearly that the temple was consecrated to Tara, the sakti of the deliverer of the world, the fourth Dhyani Buddha, Amitabha, the Tara of the Buddhists of the Northern Church (Mahayana, or the "Great Vehicle"), leads Dr. Groneman to the opinion that this particular temple was completed in the year 701 of the Saka era, or 779 of the Christian era. No trace of the Tara image was found; but this is not to be wondered at when we note the presence of other images in the gardens of private residences in Djocjakarta, and even farther afield, and remember the destruction wrought by foreign soldiers and foreign and native vandals.

People and Industries of Central Java.

In the plains going eastward through Central Java from the Preanger Regencies to the mountains of the Teng'ger Region, one cannot fail to be struck by the remarkable change in the appearance of the natives. The Soendanese of the West may not have the resource and thoughtfulness of the people of the plains, the Javanese, but they have brightness and vivacity which make them more attractive. Their bent of mind is reflected in the bright colours of their dress. In this and other respects, they resemble the Japanese women. In the plains, sombreness of dress is a characteristic--the browns of Mid-Java changing to an almost universal dark blue in the west, reminding the traveller of the Chinese and the inhabitants of the southern Japanese islands.

Everywhere, the male Javanese carry the kris or native knife in the girdle. There is much variety in the blades, handles and sheaths of those weapons, real native damascene blades costing considerable sums. One taking a superficial trip through the island is at a loss to understand why the natives should be armed. According to all accounts, they are a peaceably inclined people, and give their Dutch rulers very little trouble; and if they were at all quarrelsome amongst themselves, the handy weapon would be a source of grave danger. In course of time, perhaps, the knife will disappear as did the sword of civilised Europe a century or more ago. A traffic in Birmingham manufactured krises and knives is done at Djocjakarta and Soerakarta, as well as at Samarang, Sourabaya and Batavia, and anyone who wishes to make a collection of native weapons should be careful to have the assistance of an expert to detect the sham from the real.

The same remark applies to the purchase of sarongs. The ordinary sarong of commerce is manufactured in Lancashire, whence an excellent imitation of the native manufacture is exported. Tourists are also catered for in a native block-stamped variety, which is at least a colourable imitation of the real article. Wherever we went, however, we could see that the native art had not been lost entirely. Women sit outside their little huts by the roadside tracing the most elaborate designs in brown and blue dye upon the cloth with tiny funnel-shaped implements.

This cloth is styled batik. According to the ground of white, black or red, it is known as batik latur puti, batik latur irang, or batuk latur bang. To prepare it to receive the design, the cloth is steeped in rice water, dried and calendered. The process of the batik is performed with hot wax in a liquid state applied by means of the chanting. The chanting is usually made of silver or copper, and holds about an ounce of the liquid. The tube is held in the hand at the end of a small stick, and the pattern is traced on both sides of the tightly drawn suspended cloth. When the outline is finished, such portions of the cloth as are intended to be preserved white, or to receive any other colour than the general field or ground, are carefully covered in like manner with the liquid wax, and then the piece is immersed in whatever coloured dye may be intended for the ground of the pattern. The parts covered with wax resist the operation of the dye, and when the wax is removed, by being steeped in hot water till it melts, are found to remain in their original condition. If other colours are to be applied, the process is gone over again. It will thus be seen that a considerable amount of skill is required. In the ordinary course, the process of the batik occupies about ten days for common patterns, and from fifteen to seventeen days for the finer and more variegated.

Some of the sarongs worn by the native aristocracy and the European ladies are not only beautiful in pattern and working but most expensive in price.

In our excursions in the neighbourhood of Djocjakarta, we had ample opportunity of seeing the industry of the Javanese. Wherever one went, there were long processions of stunted women bravely carrying enormous burdens on their backs, often with a baby slung in the slandang astride the hip. The cheery, coquettish look of the Soendanese was absent here. All seemed to be borne down by the seriousness of a strenuous physical life. No songs arose from the fields; scarcely a head was raised from the laborious planting of tufts of paddy roots as our kreta rattled past. While mothers toiled in the fields, children played near the roadways, or now and then assisted their parents.

We were surprised to see in these fertile plains how prevalent goitre is amongst the women. In the drive from Moentilan to the Boro Budur, at least one in twenty were so afflicted. We commented on this fact to a native official while waiting for our tram at Moentilan, and he assured us that it is remarkably prevalent amongst the common people, but that the men do not suffer in the same proportion as the women. The disease is named "kondo" by the Javanese. We do not know whether any scientific investigations into the disease have been carried out by the Dutch officials; but it would be interesting to know why it should be so prevalent in this area. Goitre is usually associated with people living in mountainous regions, yet we never noticed it in the Preanger and scarcely at all on the mountains of East Java.

Since the above was written, we have had an opportunity of consulting Sir Stamford Raffles' History of Java. He found goitre prevalent in both Java and Sumatra, but is careful to explain that it was observed in certain mountainous districts. The natives ascribed it to the quality of the water, but, says Sir Stamford, "there seems good ground for concluding that it is rather to be traced to the atmosphere. In proof of this, it may be mentioned that there is a village near the foot of the Teng'ger mountains, in the eastern part of the island, where every family is afflicted by this malady, while in another village, situated at a greater elevation, and through which the stream descends which serves for the use of both, there exists no such deformity. These wens are considered hereditary in some families, and seem thus independent of situation. A branch of the family of the present Adipati of Bandung (1811-15) is subject to them, and it is remarkable that they prevail chiefly among the women of the family. They never produce positive suffering nor occasion early death, and may be considered rather as deformities than diseases. It is never attempted to remove them."

We reached Djocjakarta in the ordinary way through Maos. It may be that circumstances may take the traveller off the beaten track, and we are indebted to a friend for the following brief description of the trip from Samarang to Djocja over the mountains:--

"The usual journey from Samarang to Djocjakarta is made by way of Solo (Soerakarta), but the route is devoid of interest, the railway running through low country under rice cultivation. I would suggest the far more interesting route via Willem I. Starting at 5.57 a.m. or 8.17 a.m., Djocja is reached at 2.16 p.m. or 5.10 p.m. The 10.50 a.m. train, I found, went only as far as Magelang, so I started at 2.9 p.m., and, after a delightful run, reached Kedoeng Djattie, a fine junction station, where we changed cars. The next two hours' run is through foot hills, strips of forest and lovely vegetation, glimpses being obtained every little while of pleasant valleys, rice fields and distant hills as the train climbed up to Willem I. This point we reached about 5 p.m., in time to enjoy the refreshing cool breezes and to admire the beautiful view and sunset on a small mountain opposite the hotel.

"Next morning, I caught the train (8.54 a.m.,) which leaves Samarang at 5.57, and after a short run reached a station where our engine was changed for one working on the cog-wheel system, the grade being too heavy for the ordinary locomotive. The train winds and circles round hills cultivated, for the most part, to their summits. Upwards we climbed till we were in the clouds and the air became quite bracing and invigorating. Tiffin should be ordered through the guard before starting from Willem I., and it will be handed into the train.

"It was about one o'clock when we reverted to the ordinary locomotive, and began the descent to Djocja, through Magelang. To anyone who has to visit Samarang, I would recommend this trip."

The principal sight of Djocja itself is the Water Castle. This trip need not occupy more than a couple of hours, and its appreciation depends upon the taste of the visitor. Earthquakes have played havoc with the buildings, but sufficient is left in the way of tunnels, grottoes, bathing ponds and dungeon-like rooms. Everywhere are signs of decay and desolation; nevertheless, it is possible, with a little knowledge of comparatively recent Javan history, to reconstruct the scenes enacted here in the days when the native sultans were more powerful in the land than they are to-day. For a small fee, a native pilots one through the carved archways, underground halls and subways and cells. As one stands in the large banqueting hall, it is possible to conjure up the ceremonials of a past age, and, in the mind's eye, to group retainers round the Sultan and the members of his harem, while gaudily dressed courtesans sang and danced for the entertainment of "the quality."

The Health Resort of East Java.

Tosari on the Teng'ger mountains was the goal of our travels. We were anxious to escape from the heat of the plains, for the sun had now crossed the Equator, Java was in its summer season and the rains might come any day. From Djocjakarta, we should have arrived in Sourabaya in time for riz-tafel, but the wash-out at Moentilan still caused a delay of traffic and we were two hours late in reaching our destination.

Sourabaya is the most important port and business centre of Java, but this fact notwithstanding many of the foreign business houses still maintain their headquarters in Batavia. As a place of residence, each has its good points, and those who have lived in both are divided in preference. Possibly we were not in either long enough to form a lasting opinion, but we stayed so long in Sourabaya that we prefer Batavia. It would be sheer ingratitude, however, not to acknowledge the hearty welcome we received from the British colony in Sourabaya, and the personal help of members of that community. Here where the principal business of Java is conducted, as elsewhere throughout the Far East, it was satisfying to one's patriotism to see the respect in which British commercial enterprise and integrity is held by native and European alike, and that the most cordial good feeling exists on all sides.

To reach Tosari, the visitor proceeds first of all by train to Pasoeroean, leaving Sourabaya (Goebeng Station) at 6.42 a.m., and reaching Pasoeroean at 8.23. Here a single-pony carriage is engaged (two and a-half guilders) as far as Pasrepan, where a change is made to a two-pony carriage (three guilders). This conveyance takes one to Poespo, 2,600 feet above sea-level. A halt is made for tiffin in this delightful little hotel, whose pleasant looking proprietress, unfortunately, does not speak English. The remainder of the journey to the Sanatorium (6,000 feet) is made in the saddle or by sedan chair. Of this ride and a subsequent excursion we have painful recollections, but anyone accustomed to the saddle will enjoy this ascent through mountain scenery and vegetation, and even more the morning trip down to Poespo, through the forest, when returning to Sourabaya.

Tosari has been described as the Darjeeling of the Netherland Indies.

Here within four days' journey from Singapore, one may obtain a complete change of climate, and if there were only more frequent direct steamer communication between Singapore and Sourabaya, we predict with confidence that Tosari would become a favourite health resort for those who live on the northern side of the Equator. The rooms are comfortable, the food is good, the facilities for amusements at nightfall are ample, the walks and excursions are inexhaustible and the views are magnificent. The tariff (seven guilders per day--$4.90 in Singapore currency) is higher than that of any other hotel in Java, but those who intend to stay for a fortnight or more could probably arrange more favourable terms.

There is a resident doctor who has graduated in the Schools of Tropical Medicine, and when we were in Tosari there were visitors from Burma, Siam, Singapore, Penang, and all parts of Java, recruiting from malaria and other ailments peculiar to Far Eastern residence. But they were not all invalids, and formed a bright, companionable party.

The Teng'gerese who people this mountainous region are a race apart. Their religion is a mixture of paganism and Buddhism, and, though reputed to be kind and honest, they are an ignorant, uncouth, uncultured people. They dwell _en famille_ in large square houses without windows, in isolated kampongs on the projecting ridges of the mountains. The door of each house is on the side nearest the Bromo crater, and as if tradition gave them cause to fear another destructive eruption they worship this volcano. Dirt prevails everywhere, and in consequence of the cool climate and the scarcity of water they seldom bathe, a fact that is very noticeable after one's acquaintance with the people of the plains.

To go to Tosari without seeing the Bromo is tantamount to going to Rome without entering St. Peter's. The journey is made on pony or in a sedan chair, by way of the Moengal Pass and the Dasar or Sand Sea, which is in reality the enormous Teng'ger crater, inside of which there are three more craters, the Bromo being the only one showing signs of activity.

A better view and more impressive is obtained from the Penandjaan Pass, a description of which is given in the next chapter.