Denn das Naturell der Frauen
Ist so nah mit Kunst verwandt.[79]
XIV. WATER-CASTLE AT JOGJAKARTA
(Centrum.)
Though Mangku Buwono I. was a contemporary of Goethe, his knowledge of Faust is extremely doubtful, but being an artist in his own way, he took care that the natural scenery, assisted by art, should contribute to a pleasant general impression in the distribution of the dwellings for his retinue: native princes (and of his rank too!) do not move an inch inside or outside their kratons without numberless attendants at their heels. In the “water-castle” were apartments, not only for the Sooltan, for the Ratu, his first legitimate spouse, for his other wives and concubines, for the little family they had presented him with, but for the dignitaries of his Court, officials of all degrees, secretaries, servants of every description, various artificers from the armourers down to the kebon kumukoos, the makers of tali api (fire-rope), necessary for lighting his Highness’ cigars. There were reception-, dining-, living- and sleeping-rooms for the Sooltan, his Ratu and female relatives, each apart; common rooms for the selir (wives of lower degree); rooms for the instruction of their children; rooms where his Highness’ daughters spent a few hours every day in batikking; guard-rooms for the prajurits, the male guards; guard-rooms for the female guards under command of the Niahi Tumanggoong, a lady of consequence, who kept and keeps the dalam, the interior of the kraton, under constant observation so that no illicit amourettes shall occur in the women’s quarters, and yet—! There were store-rooms, kitchens, workshops, prisons, halls set apart for the dancers, male and female; the cream of the female dancers, the srimpis and girl bedoyos, were probably housed in or near the principal pavilion on Pulu Kananga, of which the Sooltan occupied the eastern and the Ratu the western portion. Above all there were the bath-rooms, dedicated to Kama and his wife Rati of Hindu memory; and since the parrot is the vahana of that frivolous god, many are the unspeakable tales of revived rites of his luxurious worship.
The etiquette at Court is fitly illustrated by the two tea-houses of Taman Sari, the eastern one for the Grand Pourer-out-of-Tea of the Right, who presided over the preparation of the delectable beverage for the Sooltan, and the western ditto for the Grand Pourer-out-of-Tea of the Left, who provided for the Ratu. A scrupulous punctilio is ingrained in Javanese habits and customs, from high to low, on great and small occasions, the native’s mentality always reverting to things which were, but never more can be. The homage done to sacred objects, arms, gamelans, etc., by giving them a human name and a title,[80] venerating them as if endowed with supernatural faculties, recalls Polynesian fetishism, Hinduïsm being blended with it in Siva’s trishula, Vishnu’s chakra, etc., which are still carried behind the native princes among their ampilan.[81] The upacharas or imperial and royal pusakas[82] are treated with the utmost reverence when shown at the appearance in public of Susuhunan or Sooltan, and their bearers, the koncho ngampil, who hold an honoured position at the Courts of Solo and Jogja, may be considered direct successors of the envoys of King Dasharatha on the reliefs of the chandi Loro Jonggrang, who bore his regalia when meeting Rama and Lakshama. The strange ceremonial, preserved from the time when gods walked amongst men, seems hardly antiquated, on the contrary very germane to siti-inggil[83] surroundings. One need not visit the kratons though, to notice how the spirit of the past permeates all things Javanese; any well-dressed native getting out of his sado[84] at the railway station or repairing thither on foot for a journey with the fire-carriage, will do. Even if he cannot afford the few doits[85] necessary and must impair his dignity by going afoot, he has his retainers to look after his box and, stuck behind, he has his magnificent kris in a sheath of gold, with a beautifully carved ivory handle, in nine cases out of ten a pusaka, cherished like the kris Kolo Munyang of the Prince of Kudoos or, as others allege, of a Susuhunan of Surakarta, who sent the weapon, which killed its master’s enemies without human direction, to the assistance of Pangeran Bintoro, then oppressed by a king of Mojopahit. The chronology of this legend is evidently a little faulty, but, O! the wonders of Java’s golden age, and, O! the superstitious honour in which their memory is held by these lovable people, whose actual existence is a dream of days gone by. And that happy dream, they ween, is a presage of the future, prophesying the restoration of their fathers’ heritage. If, nevertheless, the hour draws near of unconditional surrender, the Dutch Government steadily and surely arrogating to itself the externals with the substance of power in the Principalities, they will silently submit to the nivarana of their ancient faith, the hindrance arising from torpor of mind appointed to them in the sansara, the rotary sequence of the world, and seek consolation in the promise of their new faith that the Lord will not deal wrongly with his servants. The life of nations, like the life of men, starts running as the mountain torrent and meets many an obstacle before it swells to a broad river in the plains and flows tranquilly and mightily to the sea; also for Java it is written:
... Non anche,
l’opra del secol non anche è piena.[86]
