ANNUAL OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
Annually, every public officer renews his oath of allegiance to his majesty, in the most horrid and revolting terms, calling down upon himself every curse and punishment in the present and future world, should he prove disloyal. At the commencement of the Chinese year, every governor, or other important officer, even of the most distant province, is obliged, on pain of death, to present himself at the krong, or capital, for this purpose.
A few days after our arrival, the venerable bishop of the Roman Catholic church sent a deputation to wait upon me, consisting of a young French priest, who has been in the country about two years, and a native Portuguese priest. The bishop sent an excuse for not paying a visit in person, owing to his advanced age and great infirmities, and requested me to call upon him, which I accordingly did in a few days thereafter, in company with Mr. Silveira and Doctor Ticknor. He made but few inquiries respecting his own country, which he had apparently almost forgotten. He said he was born at Avignon, in 1760, left France in the year 1786, and, with the exception of the time occupied by a tedious passage, three months passed at Macao, and six months at Hué, the capital of Cochin-China, he had been ever since in Siam. He was very infirm, and in his second childhood: sans teeth, sight dim, sans every thing. The house he lived in was very old and far from being clean. The church was built of brick and stuccoed, having a very gaudy and ordinary altar-piece, and destitute of images. It has been finished but a few years, and is called Santa Assomption.
A college, erected within a few years since the church, and neatly built of wood, stands near it, having about twenty students. It is erected on high posts, and is one story high. This Christian campong stands in the midst of palm and forest trees; and the situation is altogether very rural and pleasant. It will bear no comparison with its neighbours, the rich and gorgeous temples of Budha. The Catholic churches in this country, since the first bishop arrived, in 1662, have scarcely made any progress: the descendants of the Portuguese constitute, I may say with propriety, all the Christians in the kingdom; so say the Catholics themselves. All that can now be found here, and in the vicinity, do not exceed, according to the most zealous of that sect, thirteen hundred; but, according to a Protestant Christian missionary, who resided here nearly three years, and numbered them with considerable accuracy, they do not exceed four hundred. There are four churches in this vicinity; three of them are merely long sheds, in a wretched condition. In the campong of Santa Cruz, the walls of a brick one are erected, near to the old shed of that name; but the building will never be finished, for there are, already, evident signs of dilapidation in many parts of it.
Of the splendid churches that once adorned the old capital of Jutaya, there is but a small one now remaining, built out of the ruins of the others; and in Camboja, where the Catholics once had a strong foothold, they have dwindled to a mere name. The descendants of the Portuguese, in whose veins courses the blood of the courageous adventurers with the bold and fearless Vasco de Gama, who had the temerity first to double the cape of Good Hope, and the cruel Albuquerque, are now crouching slaves before the nobles of the country; and are employed only in menial offices, with the exception of two, which give them a bare subsistence.
BUDHIST TEMPLES.
The number of temples erected in the city and vicinity, I was unable to ascertain: that they amount to several hundreds, (some report from four to five hundred,) there cannot be a doubt. They occupy the most conspicuous and beautiful spots on the bank of the Menam, on its tributaries and numerous canals: you never lose sight of them; frequently eight or ten are in view at the same moment. In the most sequestered rural spots, they are always to be found; and wherever a brick pathway leads into the depths of the forest, it is a sure indication that there is a temple to be found. They are erected by pious individuals generally, believing that it will be the means of their souls being transmigrated into a higher and holier state of existence, than would otherwise enjoy; they but most of them are built from ostentatious motives.
They are of brick, and plastered; are one story in height, having neither arch nor dome; of a square form, and the roof is covered with neat coloured tiles, which gives them a gay appearance. At a first view, one is deceived, by supposing that there are three or four roofs to every building, as there are a series of them, which gradually diminish in size, to the main roof. The fronts, or gable ends, are laboriously and elegantly carved, with fanciful devices, and richly gilded. The eaves, doors, and window-frames, are, more or less, carved and gilt, painted and varnished. The doors and windows greatly resemble the pointed, or Gothic style of architecture. A figure of Budha, generally in a sitting posture, wearing the peaked crown, and having the soles of his holy feet turned upward, occupies nearly one entire end of the building, and is usually surrounded by votaries of a small size. He is partially covered with yellow cloths, having a high umbrella suspended over his head. Incense is occasionally burnt before him. The ceiling of the roof, which is flat, is painted with vermillion, ornamented with gilded stars. The entire sides, doors, and window-shutters, are covered with figures, fruit, and fancy work of various kinds—painted, varnished, and gilt. The floors of most of the buildings are of cement, having neither galleries, benches, nor seats of any kind, and scarcely a mat to kneel on. There are but few public temples. The front and rear of all have a portico. China plates, saucers, and common English crockery, stuck into plaster, intended as ornaments, are seen on many of them; bits of coloured glass, also, make up part of the ornaments around the doors and windows. The images are either of brass or iron—brick plastered, and wood; but all richly gilt and burnished. Two temples, of a lesser size, stand on either side of the principal: they are generally not so highly ornamented. Small pyramidal pagodas, of six or seven feet in height, and open at the sides, surround these buildings, and contain two stones, or rather slabs, standing about six inches apart; they are of the exact shape of a bishop’s mitre. I repeatedly asked the use of them, or what they were intended to resemble; but all professed their ignorance of their origin. In them were generally found palm-leaves, containing characters, written in the sacred or Bali and Siamese languages, strung together in the centre, at a proper distance.
Small temples, or rather buildings, for various purposes, occupy the fronts and sides, among which, in a distinct building, is the belfry, which is ascended by a flight of steps, containing generally five or six bells, having no tongues, but being sounded by means of a heavy stick, or piece of metal.
Early in the morning, “when dying clouds contend with growing light;” when the fox-bat is returning from his nightly wanderings, to suspend himself on the holy fig trees, which lie scattered about the temples of Budha, and like the midnight marauder, shrinks from the sacred light of day; the tokay has ceased to send forth his harsh, loud, and monotonous cry; the prowling tiger has retired to his lair; the tuneful birds have chanted forth their first matins, or the labourer has returned to his daily task; when every thing is hushed in the solemnity of night, in the stillness of a temporary death, you are suddenly aroused by the din of the pagan bells, sounding far and wide through the depths of the surrounding palm-forests, summoning the worshippers of Gautama to early prayers. In the confusion of the moment, between slumbering and waking, you are transported, in imagination, to far distant lands, where the Sabbath bell calls forth its votaries. But how great the contrast! One summons to the worship of an imaginary god; the other to the worship of the everlasting and true God, the Lord of all things—of light and life.