WAT CHANG, BANGKOK.
Page [301].
The sketch of the figure given in this book is the only drawing of the idol in existence, and no photo has ever been taken by any of the local photographers owing to the darkness of the interior. It was only on payment of a heavy bribe that the caretaker allowed the artist to put up his easel. After further debate, followed by a fee, he condescended to open a few more windows so as to admit sufficient light to render any sketching possible. While the sketch was being made, a small piece of the gilded lacquer fell from the chest of the recumbent idol. In less time almost than it takes to write of the occurrence, the windows were closed, the place veiled in utter darkness, and the artist unceremoniously requested to leave the building. The man evidently expected the whole structure to fall upon his unlucky head as a punishment for allowing the sacred place to be so desecrated by the white man. Doubtless by this time the caretaker has worked off the demerit he earned that day, by devoting some of the money he then received to purchasing merit in one of the many ways known to him.
In the grounds of Wat Poh there are several ponds, shaded by magnificent trees, and surrounded by grotesque figures in stone. These ponds are the homes of a few alligators, which are kept and fed by the priests and servants of the temple.
Almost opposite to Wat Poh, on the other bank of the river, is [Wat Chang], a marvel to every one who has ever seen it. The actual "bote," the priests' houses, and the relic mounds are in no respect extraordinary, but on the bank of the river is a huge monument consisting of a series of pagodas resting on a square base. It is this collection of pinnacles that attracts and charms the eye. Their form is not that of the slender-spired "prachadee," but that of a bluntly pointed pyramid, and they are known as "praprang." Viewed from a little distance, they look, as any photo shows, like a collection of beautifully carved stone pinnacles, but a closer view reveals the fact that they are only made of brick and plaster and covered with divers figures made of broken plates and saucers. Thousands upon thousands of pieces of cheap china must have been smashed to bits in order to furnish sufficient material to decorate this curious structure. It must be admitted that though the material is tawdry, the effect is indescribably wonderful. It is not until one stands close to the work itself that it is possible to realise that the elaborate designs and the quaint figures are merely so many pieces of common china. The tallest of the pagodas, the one in the centre, can be seen from many points in the city, and by ascending the steps that lead half way up to the summit, a magnificent view of the capital itself is gained. The winding river and the broad canals shine like ribbons of burnished silver; the houses are hidden beneath masses of foliage, from amongst whose leafy crowns the prettily coloured roofs and the graceful white spires of many temples stand out in bold and picturesque relief. At [sunset] the details of the structure of the pagodas of Wat Chang are lost, but the mass of spires and pinnacles takes on a purple tint which changes to one of dusky hue as the light fades slowly from the sky. The whole edifice is in its way a triumph of decorative skill of which the people are reasonably proud.
The Golden Hill is the name given to an artificial mound about two hundred feet high, which faces the public crematorium where the vultures congregate. At first it is difficult to believe that it is not a genuine hillock, for though later investigation shows it to be constructed of bricks and mortar, trees have been planted on it and creepers trained over it, till it looks as though Nature in some sportive mood had raised an isolated hill amidst the broad extent of low-lying plain by which it is surrounded. On the summit of this leaf-clad brick and plaster mound is a snow-white prachadee with a very large base. The interior of the round basal portion is an open room, in the middle of which, guarded by iron railings, stands a gilded shrine containing an imitation in glass of the famous tooth of Buddha which is preserved in Ceylon. From the size of the original it is evidently spurious, for it is impossible to conceive that the ancient philosopher and teacher possessed the benign and dignified aspect that is attributed to him, if the tooth shown is really genuine. The scoffing sceptic has even hinted that it is of equine origin. The Bangkok relic is not shown to the worshippers. It is hidden in its gilt case, and many of the natives who bow before the shrine really believe that the object it contains is not an imitation, but an actual tooth of Buddha. Steep stone staircases lead from the smooth lawn at the base to the shrine upon the summit. In clear weather the view extends far away to the jungle-clad interior in one direction, and in the other, to the distant blue hills upon the eastern shores of the gulf. At one time foreigners frequently ascended The Golden Hill for the sake of the view, but since the time of the Franco-Siamese trouble it has been guarded by soldiers, and no one is allowed to pass the sentries on duty without a special permit signed by the Minister for Foreign Affairs.
On three days of the year, however, when a special holiday occurs in connection with the worship of the relic, the hill is open to every one. Around the base are set up numerous stalls, booths, and side-shows, and a native fair with all its varied attractions draws thousands of people to the spot. Side by side are the booths where the missionaries sell their school books and their translations of certain portions of the Bible, and the stalls where the wonderful wicker-work made by the prisoners in the jails is offered for sale. Gambling tents, shadow pantomimes, and Chinese theatres are in full swing. There is but very little direct purchasing. Nearly every booth has a lottery. You may pay sixpence for the privilege of rolling three wooden balls along a bagatelle table. You will then be allowed to choose an article whose value varies according to the numbers in the holes into which the little spheres have rolled. At another place a man stands behind a board in which a square hole has been cut on a level with his face. He moves his head quickly backwards and forwards in front of the hole, poking out his tongue and rolling his eyes with marvellous rapidity. At the quickly appearing and disappearing countenance you are permitted to throw three tennis balls, and if you are successful in hitting the distorted features, you receive a prize of little value. It is an Oriental form of Aunt Sally, with a living Aunt of male extraction, willing to be a target at the rate of three shots for sixpence. On another stall every article has a thread fastened to it. The loose ends of the cotton strands are collected and passed through a bit of hollow bamboo about six inches long. You pay your money and you choose your thread. Then the proprietor traces it out, and you get what is fastened to the other end of it. The prizes range from a common piece of slate pencil, to a penny exercise book, and a German concertina.
All the merit-makers before indulging in the fun of the fair, first buy a bit of gold-leaf, a few wax flowers, or a tiny candle, then mount the steep and broken steps, kneel in front of the shrine, stick their gold-leaf on the iron railings, light their candles and fix them on iron spikes, and throw their waxen blossoms into a blazing bonfire. The visitor to the summit looks down upon a ring of twinkling lights, beyond which lies the deep darkness. The air is full of many sounds. A native band discourses native airs with customary vigour in front of the shrine itself; a military band plays operatic selections in a band-stand half way up the hill; and the devotees bang the big deep-toned bells with more force than is demanded by purely religious feeling. Up from the crowd below comes the roar of hundreds of human voices, the cries of the cheap jacks and lottery owners, and the shouts of the men with the shows, all telling of the animation and excitement that exists amongst the dark-looking figures that ever move, but never leave a vacant spot in the brilliant torch-lit avenues and passages. The priests sit in long pavilions, their yellow robes and shaven heads set off by the red and white draperies of their temporary resting-places. They drink tea and chew betel-nut incessantly, chatter and laugh with animation, and evidently enjoy the fun quite as much as any of their lay brethren who have come to the place for the double purpose of making merry and making merit.
Another temple, Wat Samplum, boasts a copy of Buddha's famous footprint, which is also worshipped amidst much jollity for three days each year. This footprint is sunk in the centre of the floor of a small spire-crowned room on the top of a low artificial hillock. It has no toes and also no heel. It is shaped like an infant's bath, and is about three feet long, two feet wide, and eighteen inches deep, and has been cut or moulded with strict mathematical regularity. It passes the wit of any European to imagine by what process of logical or illogical reasoning any person could bring himself to look upon this curious object as having the slightest resemblance to a human footprint. The usual fair accompanies the worship, and the believers have no sooner plastered their bit of gold-leaf on the sides or sole of the footprint than they descend the little elevation to take their part in the fun that rages fast and furiously at the bottom.
There are in several of the northern mountain ranges or isolated hills large limestone or granite caves which have been utilised at various times for religious purposes. Near to the walled city of Karnbooree on the River Meklong, there is one large cave which was used as a store-house for idols and offerings during the last war between the Siamese and Burmese. Here the discoloured images and the withered offerings remain to this day, rarely visited by any one; the entrances to the cavern being nearly blocked up by the jungle growth which has flourished undisturbed for many years.