THE CHANDI KÓBON DÁLAM,
but so covered with trees and shrubs, that it is not visible till you are within two or three hundred yards of it. I could find no remains of the ancient enclosure, but the fields for some distance round have been enclosed in later days with the stones which have fallen from the temple. About forty yards westward of the temple, formerly stood two colossal images or réchas[209], both now overthrown, and one broken in two: these evidently faced each other inwards, as if to guard the approach. Each of these, including the pedestal, is of a single block, seven feet high; the head is two feet high; the square of the pedestal about three feet, and its height thirteen inches and a half: the stone block coarse grained, and apparently the same as the outer coating of the temple. The door-way is three feet and a half wide, and now ten feet long, so that allowing two feet for dilapidation, the thickness of the walls must have been more than twelve feet. This leads directly to an apartment twenty feet square, the terrace of which, or original floor, is now covered to an unknown depth with masses of stone fallen from the walls and roof. The present height of the interior of the building is about twenty-eight feet.
The roof is a square pyramid about fourteen feet high, formed of stones which overhang each other like inverted steps. The stone composing the interior of the apartment is whitish and close grained, and breaks in flakes something like flint. The whole is uniformly cut and neatly morticed together without cement. The interior is perfectly plain, the exterior could never have possessed more than the simplest architectural embellishment.
Excepting the two réchas, or porters, I saw no remains of statuary; but it is probable that images of Hindu deities lie buried in the rubbish. These porters or giants seem to have been posted as if to guard the approach to the sanctuaries of the gods. The hair of each is plaited and wound round his head, after the fashion of the mendicant priests of India. He wears large cylindrical ear-rings, like those of the Javan women, bracelets and necklace of beads. His waistband, which is very bulky and reaches almost to his knees, is confined by a chain of square links, and receives on the right side a small square-hilted dagger. Between his legs and under the waistband there passes a lungofa or kopina, the ends of which hang down before and behind. In his right hand he holds an octagonal club; in his left a snake, coiled and darting its tongue along the breast: small twisted snakes also form his armlets, and one passes over his left shoulder diagonally across the body, the head and tail forming a kind of knot. His head is broad; his forehead and chin short but wide; his eyes quite round, large, prominent, and staring; his lips thick; his mouth open, and shewing two very large dog teeth and four others of the upper jaw. Singular as the countenance is, it has generally an open good humoured expression. The Sepoy who attended me, and who had resided two years among the Bramins at Benares, and, of a corps of upwards of eight hundred Sepoys, was acknowledged to be the best acquainted with such subjects, informed me that similar figures were common guardians of the entrance to the temples of India, and seemed perfectly well acquainted with their history, purpose, and distinctive accompaniments; but he was lost in surprise at the number, magnitude, and superior execution of those at Brambánan, to which he said that India could in no respect furnish a parallel. Every thing here, he said, was manifestly the work of the gods, as no human power could have effected such things. The temples at Brambánan are entirely composed of plain hewn stone without the least mixture of brick, mortar, or rubbish of any kind, even in the most extensive solid masses, or to fill up the floors and basements of the largest structures. Large trees have made their way through many of them, and give an air of high antiquity.
Close by the road side at Brambánan, and in front of the bándar's house, there are several pieces of sculpture deserving of notice. One is a very well executed relievo on two small stones, of about eighteen inches by five, within the bándar's kámpung: it represents elephants completely caparisoned in the Hindu fashion. Another is a piece of sculpture representing the wide-extended mouth and erect curled proboscis of the elephant, having a figure (I believe of a Gôpie or inferior deity or demi-god) seated in an erect posture on the animal's tongue, surrounded with a formidable array of teeth. This is found on either side of the top or bottom of flights of steps, grand entrances, or portal of all the Brambánan buildings. There is also a more finished specimen of the same kind as the last, but having instead of a Gópia a lion, decorated with a necklace, to whose head descends from the lotos flowers which crown the elevated proboscis of the elephant, a very rich cluster of beads. Two stones are sculptured in relief with the figures of seven apes traversing a wood: they are each about two feet six inches high by two feet wide. These pieces are more damaged by time and weather than any others I met with, and perhaps more ancient. They appear to be entirely historical, and probably formed together the memorial of some legendary event, which the learning of my Brahmin did not reach: he seemed however positive that Hanumán was not of the number. The shield occurs twice, a reptile of the lizard kind led by a string once, and all the figures appear armed with sticks.
The only other piece of sculpture found here is of a headless naked figure, sitting on a double throne, surrounded with foliage, opposite the Bandáran at the corner of a field. The journal of Colonel Mackenzie, which had previously appeared in the Transactions of the Batavian Society, had so fully persuaded me that all these rude figures in a sitting cross-legged posture were Jain or Budhist, that I by accident only asked my companion if he knew what this was? To my astonishment he replied, that this, with all other similar images, were tupís wurri, or Hindus in the act of devotion, and that this figure was evidently a Brahmin (from the sacrificial or sacred string over his left shoulder) employed in tupísya. I asked him whether it might be Budh? to which he replied, No; that Budh held a very low rank in the estimation of the Brahmins, who, in consequence of the schism between Brahmins and Budhists, did not choose to make tupísya before him, or erect his likeness in their temples; and that, as all the temples at Brambánan were entirely Braminical, or had their origin from the same sect of which he himself was a member, it was not likely that any images of Budh should be found thereabouts. When we afterwards came to examine the temples at Lóro Jóngran and other places, where the same figure complete appears seated in the small temples, surrounding the great central one, I pointed out to him the long-extended ears, short curled head of hair, and other marks, which I had understood served to distinguish the Jain or Budh images from all others. He said he was only more convinced that they were all simple Hindu devotees in the act of making tupísya, in the presence of the principal deity enthroned in the grand temple in the midst of them; that this was frequently the case in India, and wherever practicable the Brahmins placed images of devotees, of exactly similar form and attitude, around the fanes of Brahma and their inferior gods; that what I called curled hair was nothing more than a peculiar kind of cap (topi he called it) worn by devotees when in the most sacred acts of tupísya, which caps are common, he said, throughout Bengal or Hindustan, and are made for the purpose, by a particular class of people. I found the lower part of two counterpart decorated stones, having the part of the body of Ganésa in the centre of each. They were extremely well executed and in good preservation.