According to Heer Brumund, the temple of Toempang is quite equal to this. “It is,” he says, “the most beautiful in Melang. It leaves those of Singa Sari far behind, and may be called the Boro Buddor of Melang.”[621] Unfortunately we have nothing but verbal descriptions of these temples, and of those on the mountain of Sangraham, so it is impossible to feel quite sure about their arrangement or appearance; but as those who have seen them, all describe them as similar, we must be content with this assurance till some photographer visits the place, or, what would be better, till some one goes there who is capable of making a plan and drawing and a few architectural details.
The most remarkable peculiarity of these terraced temples is that all have a well-hole in the centre of their upper platform, extending apparently to their basement. Sometimes it appears to be square, at
368. Three-storeyed Terraced Temple at Panataram. (From a Photograph.)
others circular, and enlarging as it descends, being 7 ft. or 10 ft. wide at top.
Both Heer Brumund and Dr. Leemans expend a considerable amount of ingenuity in trying to explain the mystery of these well-temples.[622] Both assume that the wells were covered with pavilions or cell-temples (Kamer tempels), but without any warrant, so far as I can make out. At Panataram, for instance, the parapet of the upper terrace is a frail structure, that any man with a crowbar might destroy in a morning, or any earthquake would certainly shake down; yet neither it nor a single stone elsewhere in this temple has been displaced; but of this central pavilion not one vestige now remains, either in situ or strewn around. Besides this, a temple without a floor, and with nothing inside but a facilis descensus of 20 ft. or 30 ft., and no means revocare gradum, does not seem likely to have been popular either with priests or people, and in fact no form of worship can be suggested that would be suitable to them. Neither here nor elsewhere does there seem anything to controvert the theory that these wells were always open to the upper air.
The only suggestion that occurs to me as at all likely to meet the case is that they were Tree-temples; that a sacred tree was planted in these well-holes, either on the virgin soil, or that they were wholly or partially filled with earth and the tree planted in them. The Bo-tree at Buddh Gaya is planted on a terrace, and raised 30 ft. above the plain, ascended on one side by steps; but no excavations have been made, or at least published, which would show whether or not there were three storeys on the three other sides. The Naha Vihara at Ceylon, or the temple of the Bo-tree, is, in reality, just such a temple as that at Panataram. It is apparently in five—practically, in three—storeys, with the tree planted in a well-hole on its summit. We have, unfortunately, no plan of it or of the Javan temples; but if any one will read Captain Chapman’s description of the Maha Vihara,[623] and compare it with Heer Brumund’s of temples in Malang and Kediri, abstracted by Dr. Leemans,[624] I do not think he can fail to see the resemblance. No plan has yet been made of the Ceylonese vihara, and such photographs as exist have been taken with no higher aim than to make pretty pictures; so that it is extremely difficult to arrive at any correct notions as to its form. Meanwhile the following woodcut (No. 369), copied literally from one in Sir Emerson Tennent’s book, will convey an idea of its general appearance. The structure is wholly in brick, and its ornamentation was consequently painted on plaster, which has wholly[625] disappeared, so that no means of comparison exist between the two modes of decoration. With regard to the Javanese sculptures on these temples, it is safe to assert that not one of them shows any trace of Buddhism—none even that could be called Jainism—nor any trace of the Hindu religion as now known to us. We are, for instance, perfectly familiar with the Hindu Pantheon, as illustrated by the sculptures of the nearly contemporary temple of Hullabîd (ante, p. 402); but not a trace of these gods or goddesses, nor of any of the myths there pourtrayed, is to be found in these well-temples. Whatever they are, they belong to a religion different from any whose temples we have hitherto met with in this volume, but one whose myths pervade the whole story of Indian mythology. The worship of trees seems to have been taken up in succession by the Buddhists, Jainas, and Vaishnavas, but may be earlier than either, and may, in like manner, have survived all three.