Half a mile farther we passed a beautiful temple decorated with red lacquer, and profusely gilded, which had been lately built by Princess Chow Oo Boon. The mai cha-lau trees, which are numerous, were in full blossom, and many beautiful orchids were suspended from the smaller trees. At 3½ miles from the bridge over the river, which I now mile from, we halted for the night at Wat Pra Non, the temple of the reclining Gaudama. Our march after leaving the city skirted the rice-fields of the Zimmé plain on the west.
As we passed the elephant stables of the Zimmé chief, I noticed the mode in which they train a refractory animal. He is confined in a pen barely large enough to admit his body, constructed of two strong post-and-rail fences, like the parallel vaulting-bars at a gymnasium. Between these, which are slightly inclined towards the front, the elephant is squeezed, and then enclosed and forced to be obedient.
The abbot of the monastery, who had held his post for thirty years, courteously allowed us to occupy an outbuilding of the temple. On going to the evening service we found the great, richly gilded image of Gaudama reclining on its right side, supporting its head with its hand, and covered by a star-spangled canopy. The image was forty-seven feet in length. The walls, ceilings, and pillars of the temple were tastefully decorated with gilt on a red lacquer ground, resembling the rich Japanese wall-papers now in vogue. The monotonous chant of the monks, and the great taper candles alight before the image, reminded me of a service in a Catholic cathedral.
After the service I asked the abbot whether there was any history attached to the monastery; and in reply, he related the following legend: “During the existence on earth of the third Buddh, he came and lodged under the great mango-tree, near whose former site this temple stands, when a Yak, with the usual ogre propensities, not knowing that he was a Buddh, came to attack and devour him. On learning his mistake, the Yak made obeisance, and the Buddh gave him his blessing. One of the Yak’s teeth—Yak’s teeth are as large as wild-boar tusks—fell out, and the Buddh presented him with a handful of his hair, and told him to place it in the hollow of the tooth, and bury it in the Hoo Nak, or dragon’s hole.
The Yak then requested Buddh to preach a sermon for his benefit, but he refused, saying: “Another Buddh will come at some future time and do so.” Having said this, he departed on his merciful mission to the universe.
When Gaudama the fourth Buddh came, he rested on the mango-tree, which had fallen down from age. On the Yak approaching to devour him, Gaudama remonstrated with him as the former Buddh had done, and told him that he was a Buddha. The Yak refusing to believe this, as the former Buddh was of enormous size, and Gaudama was small, Gaudama by his aiswarya (supernatural power derived from accumulated merit) expanded to the size of the former Buddh. After the Yak had worshipped, and received Gaudama’s blessing, another of his tusks fell out, and after having some of the Buddh’s hair placed in it, was buried, like the first one, in the dragon’s hole. On the Yak asking Gaudama to preach him a sermon, he consented to do so if the Yak would build him a place of shelter, and fetch him some cool water. The Yak, calling two other friendly ogres to help him, at once made the sheltering-place; and proceeding a little distance to the south-east of the site of the monastery, dug the deep pool which is known as Nong Luang Kwang, and brought water for the Buddh to bathe and drink.
Gaudama then preached a sermon, and foretold that the Yak in a future existence should be born chief of Zimmé, and the two friendly Yaks should be born kings of Siam, and their descendants should reign for many generations. When the prophecy was fulfilled, the Yak, who became in his after-existence King of Zimmé, built the great reclining image in Wat Pra Non. After preaching and prophesying, Gaudama left, and proceeded to Ko-sin-na-li, where he entered Neiban.
Another peculiar belief of the people is in the power of snakes. Naga, or snake, worship, which was the State religion in Upper Burmah from A.D. 924 to A.D. 1010, still exists in the Shan States to the east of it, and even in Northern Siam. On one of his journeys in the Shan States, Dr Cushing found himself in an unpleasant predicament through killing a viper that he saw sunning itself on the bank of a lake. The Shans declared that it was the guardian spirit of the lake; it never bit any one, and had always been allowed to go and come when and where it liked.
Another case of snake-worship I heard of whilst staying in Bangkok. It appears that a certain temple in Kampheng Phet contained a large bronze image of Phya Nakh, the king of the Nagas, which was said to be very ancient, and was held in high veneration by people for miles round. A German merchant chancing to visit the temple, thought how extremely well the image would look in a German museum, and accordingly determined to annex it. Waiting till night had fallen, he proceeded quietly to the temple with his boatmen, and tried to carry it off. Finding that it was too heavy to remove entire, he broke off the head and the lower portions of the arms, together with the hands, the fingers of which were covered with rings, and carried them away. There was a great outcry the next morning, and the matter was reported to the King of Siam, who was highly indignant at the ruthless destruction of an object of veneration, and, after some correspondence, had the parts that had been carried away returned. From a photograph of the head and hands I thought that the image must be one of Siva, as it had the mark resembling the third eye on the forehead, and a serpent above the crown, which I fancied might be intended for a flame of fire; but I was assured by a gentleman who had seen the body and the pedestal, that the twining snakes about them left no doubt that the image was intended for the king of the Nagas. An entire image of such a Siva, or else snake-god, was seen by Mr Bourne near Ssumao. The horrid image was “seated on a white ox, with a sash composed of human heads round its breast, and armed with a trident and bell. It had six arms covered with snakes, and three faces, with the usual scar in the middle of the forehead replaced by an eye. An intelligent native told us it was the local god. And to the remark that he was of dreadful aspect, he replied ‘Yes; he is just like that.’”
That Siva—whose text-books are “those singular compounds of cabalistic mystery, licentiousness, and blood, the Agamas or Tantras”—was worshipped in the Zimmé Shan kingdom as late as the middle of last century, is evidenced by the ‘History of Lakon,’ which states, that “at this time the chief priest of the temple, called Wat Na Yang, was a sorcerer, conjuring spirits by the means of the skulls of persons who had died a violent death. He came to be considered a man of extraordinary merit, and was consulted by every one.” Comparing this statement with Dr W. H. Mills’s translation of the Prabodha-chandra-udaya, Act 3, that appeared in J.R.A.S. No. 61 of 1837, I think there can be little doubt on the matter. The translation runs thus—