Hindu Ruins in Central Java.
A visit to Java would be incomplete did it not include a pilgrimage to the marvellous products of religious fervour which Buddhism reared in the plains around Djocjakarta before it went down before the all-conquering onslaught of Moslemism. These ruins testify to an ancient art and civilisation and culture and an instinct of creation few are aware of to-day, and it is hard to resist the temptation to indulge in extravagant language when attempting to describe them as they now stand, partially restored by the Dutch authorities.
Miss Scidmore has lavished the wealth of her luxuriant vocabulary upon them, but neither she, nor any of her predecessors in the work of praise, saw them as they stand to-day—a wonder alike to archaeologist, architect, artist and student of comparative religions. Here in the centre of fertile plains we have the real Java of ancient times.
The Dutch had been in possession of the island for two hundred years without discovering the rich deposits hidden beneath the accumulated mounds of centuries and buried under a mass of tropical vegetation. To the active mind of Sir Stamford Raffles the discovery was due. He went to Java as Lieutenant-Governor in 1811, and during the period it was under his control, he had the mounds explored, the ruined temples un-earthed and their historic import co-related with the romantic legends and poetic records rescued from the archives of the native princes. It was due to the investigations of this great Englishman that the date of the construction of the temples was fixed at the beginning of the seventh century of the Christian era, and subsequent investigators (prominent amongst whom must be placed Dr. I. Groneman, now and for many years resident of Djocjakarta and Honorary President of its Archaeological Society) agree in accepting this period as authentically proved from the ruins themselves.
Sir Stamford was of opinion that the temples, as works of labour and art, dwarf to nothing all wonder and admiration at the great pyramids of Egypt; but since his time, it must not be forgotten, much richer discoveries in ancient art and archæological lore have been made in Egypt and Palestine. Alfred Russell Wallace, Brumund, Fergusson, all join in the chorus of praise, and the latter, in his "History of Indian and Eastern Architecture," expresses the opinion that the Boro Budur is the highest development of Buddhist art, an epitome of all its arts and ritual, and the culmination of the architectural style, which, originating at Barhut a thousand years before—that is more than twenty-one centuries ago—had begun to decay in India at the time the colonists were erecting this masterpiece of the ages in the heart of Java.
To reach the Boro Budur, one takes the steam tram from Djocja to Moentilan. There a dog-cart may be hired for three guilders, and, taking the Temple or Tjandi of Mendoet on the way, the Boro Budur may be reached in an hour and a half from Moentilan. Miss Scidmore was able to write with her customary enthusiasm about this road; but, truth to tell, we found the drive far from pleasant. Until one gets within a quarter of a mile of the ruins, the surface is bad and some of the small bridges so dangerous that we dismounted at the driver's request. The dog-cart, also, is far from an agreeable vehicle in which to travel, and if a better carriage could be found we would advise its being hired. Wherever one goes in Java, the public vehicles are in a state of decay, far more disreputable than the gharry of Singapore, and a large number of the ponies are decrepit and suffering from open sores. If Java is to become a tourist country the vehicles should be better supervised.
Before setting out from Djocjakarta, the visitor should get the hotel proprietor to communicate with the stationmaster at Moentilan, with the object of having a more comfortable carriage than fell to our unhappy lot through leaving the matter to haphazard.
Strictly speaking, the Boro Budur—which means the collection of Buddas—is not a building in the sense that we speak of St. Paul's or St. Peter's. A small hill has been cut down and the earthwork surrounded by masonry, uncemented, unjointed, layer upon layer, and there is no column, pillar, or true arch. It is supposed that it was built by some of the first Buddhist settlers from India as the resting place (dagaba) of one of the urns containing a portion of the ashes of Buddha.
Bas Relief—Bara Budur.
Bas Relief—Bara Budur.
It is difficult to describe it briefly, but the following extract from Miss Scidmore's book seems to us to convey the best idea of the structure in general terms:—
"The temple stands on a broad platform, and rises first in five square terraces, inclosing galleries or [53]processional paths between their walls, which are covered on each side with bas-relief sculptures. If placed in single line, these bas-reliefs would extend for three miles. The terrace walls hold four hundred and thirty-six niches or alcove chapels, where life-size Buddhas sit serene upon lotus cushions. Staircases ascend in straight lines from each of the four sides, passing under stepped or pointed arches, the keystones of which are elaborately carved masks, and rows of sockets in the jambs show where wood or metal doors once swung. Above the square terraces are three circular terraces, where seventy-two latticed dagabas (reliquaries in the shape of the calyx or bud of the lotus) inclose each a seated image, seventy-two more Buddhas sitting in those inner, upper circles, of Nirvana, facing a great dagaba, or final cupola, the exact function or purpose of which as key to the whole structure is still the puzzle of archæologists. This final shrine is fifty feet in diameter, and either covered a relic of Buddha, or a central well where the ashes of priests and princes were deposited, or is a form surviving from the tree-temples of the earliest primitive East when nature-worship prevailed. The English engineers made an opening in the solid exterior, and found an unfinished statue of Buddha on a platform over a deep well-hole."
We read this description among others before we visited the Boro Budur, and must confess that from none of them did we get a correct idea of what we were to see. It must be seen to be realised. Not even photographs give a true conception of the ornate character of the decorative stonework—the hard but freely-worked lava stone having lent itself easily to the chisel. Like Cologne or Milan Cathedrals, it must be examined minutely to grasp the elaborateness of the sculptured work, but, unlike either of these, it does not produce an immediate impression of grandeur and religious elevation. It is unlike any of the temples in Japan, or, indeed, anywhere, though Ceylon and India may suggest comparisons.
What will strike the visitor as he perambulates these miles of sculptured terraces is the complete absence of any offensive or indecent figure. Mere nudity is not, of course, an outrage to the artistic soul; but here there is not even a nude or grotesque figure. Each is draped in the fine flowing robes of the East, not in monotonous regularity but suggestive of prince and peasant, princess and maids, down even to the jewels they wear. Strangely enough, no particularly Javanese type of face or figure is represented—all are Hindu, Hindu-Caucasian and pure Greek.
It is not our purpose to give elaborate details of this work of religious art. The visitor may obtain at Djocjakarta a copy of Dr. Groneman's learned treatise on the subject, a treatise which will teach him something about Buddhism as well as the Boro Budur, of which Dr. Groneman has made an exhaustive study. With his guide, the sculptures become an open book to the visitor.
It is more archæological than descriptive, however, and we must acknowledge our indebtedness again to Miss Scidmore for the following passage to show the scope of the sculptures:—
"The everyday life of the seventh and eighth century is pictured—temples, palaces, thrones and tombs, ship and houses, all of man's constructions are portrayed. The life in courts and palaces, in fields and villages, is all seen there. Royal folk in wonderful jewels sit enthroned, with minions offering gifts and burning incense before them warriors kneeling and maidens dancing. The peasant ploughs the rice-fields with the same wooden stick and ungainly buffalo, and carries the rice-sheaves from the harvest field with [56]the same shoulder poles, used in all the farther East to-day. Women fill their water-vessels at the tanks and bear them away on their heads as in India now, and scores of bas-reliefs show the unchanging costumes of the East that offer sculptors the same models in this century. Half the wonders of that great three-mile-long gallery of sculptures cannot be recalled. Each round disclosed some more wonderful picture, some more eloquent story. Even the humorous fancies of the sculptors are expressed in stone. In one relievo a splendidly caparisoned state elephant flings its feet in imitation of the dancing girl near by. Other sportive elephants carry fans and state umbrellas in their trunks; and the marine monsters swimming about the ship that bears the Buddhist missionaries to the isles have such expression and human resemblance as to make one wonder if those pillory an enemy with their chisels, too. In the last gallery, where, in the progress of the religion, it took on many features of Jainism, or advancing Brahmanism, Buddha is several times represented as the ninth avatar, or incarnation, of Vishnu, still seated on the lotus cushion and holding a lotus with one of his four hands."
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.
The Bara Budur—One of the Galleries.
The Sméroe—13,000 Feet High.
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."