“On the morning of the appointed day there was an uproar of drums and gongs and other unmusical instruments. The noisy orchestra surrounded the palace, while the royal procession wound through the streets and defiled into the square or market-place. Mounted upon an elephant of great size, which was armed with a pair of formidable tusks, the king made his appearance, encircled by guards on foot and on horseback and attended by his great dignitaries mounted like himself. A train of smaller elephants followed carrying the court ladies. The cortège finally directed its course to some spacious pavilions erected for the purpose, where the bonzes of the royal pagoda were offering up their prayers. A few minutes passed, and another tableau was presented. The king was seen enthroned in the largest pavilion. He arose, and, escorted by his principal officers, advanced into the middle of a wide platform, where the bonzes, still uttering their prayers, gathered about him. He threw off his clothes, replacing them by a mantle of white cloth. Then the bonzes drew apart, so as to open up a passage for him, and he proceeded to place himself, with his body bent into a curve, immediately underneath the sacred dragon. Prayers were recommenced, and the king received the anointing or consecrating douche, while a dignitary who stood at one corner of the dais set free a couple of turtle-doves as a sign that all creation, down even to the animals, should be happy on so auspicious a day. When the water which was contained in the dragon’s body had completely douched the royal person, new garments were brought, over which was thrown a large white robe, and he returned to his place in the centre of the hall. A grand banquet of rice and cucumbers and eggs and pork and delicious bananas, washed down by copious draughts of rice-wine, concluded the day’s proceedings, and in the evening the town was lighted up with fireworks, while bands of singers and musicians traversed the streets.”
The whole country belongs nominally to these chiefs, who grant certain districts to the numerous princes and nobles. These tax the common people heavily—one bucket of rice for every bucket planted—and there are also taxes on pork, fish, betel-nuts, bamboo and—gambling! The chiefs appoint an officer to gather the taxes in each hamlet, and by fair means or foul the uttermost farthing is squeezed out of the poorer classes.
The greatest reverence is paid to these princes and officials by the people, who never venture to name them without their titles in conversation, and when in the presence of a superior show their humility by crouching before them. A noble or wealthy Laos gentleman or lady never makes a call, or goes out for even a short walk, without a full retinue of attendants and slaves bearing the betel-box, umbrella, water-jar, sword, seal and other signs of wealth and rank.
Besides captives taken in war and their descendants, there are great numbers of slave-debtors, under obligation to serve their creditor until they can repay the debt incurred, capital and interest. These are usually well treated, and can recover freedom at any time if the debt is discharged by themselves or a friend.
Religious Belief and Customs.
While the Laos people are Buddhists, devout and faithful to all the requirements of that system, they are also true worshipers of nature, believing in spirits of earth, air and water, making frequent offerings to these and having some beautiful customs of worship connected with them. It would seem as if this phase of their religious life grew out of a sort of longing in their affectionate hearts for something less cold and distant—something closer and more accessible to them—than Buddhist teachings could give, and that, moved by this craving, they have turned to the spirit-world with its unseen but possibly near ministrations.
A few of their religious customs are interesting, and remarkable enough to deserve here some special mention. Dr. McGilvary gives the following account of one of their ceremonies:
“The full moon of the fourth Laos month, which usually occurs in January, witnesses a strange Laos custom. It is called by two names, signifying ‘The Warming of Buddh’ and the ‘Offering of New Kow Lam’ to the priests. About daylight on the morning of the full moon bonfires are kindled in the temple-grounds, at which are assembled a larger number than usual of worshipers. It is the cool season of the year, when the mornings are uncomfortably cold, but no one dares to warm himself by the bonfires on that morning. They are sacred to Buddh, and are kindled for his special benefit, and he, too, is presumed to be cold. When the fires are lighted, incense-tapers are taken by the priests, who go inside of the temple and prostrate themselves before the idols, and invite them to come out and be warmed by the sacred fires. It is a sham invitation, however, as they are not carried out, and they cannot of course come out themselves.
“It shows the inconsistent, incoherent and contradictory notions that a false religion fosters. If Buddh is a god, why should he be cold at all? Or if cold, why can’t he warm himself? Or why cold on that morning? Or does the heat of the little bonfires continue during the whole cool season? And how does it consist with Buddh’s annihilation? According to theory, he has attained Nipan, a state of utter unconsciousness of either happiness or misery. How, then, can he feel the sensation of cold? Or if he does, and can’t warm himself, how can he be a refuge to others?
“We presume that the real explanation of the custom, however, may be sought from the second name mentioned above, and that the important part of the ceremony is the Kow Lam that follows. That is glutinous rice, on which the Laos principally live, put in joints of the bamboo and roasted over a fire till it is done. It is very palatable, and on this morning must always be made of the first-fruits of the new rice-crop. They feast on it then for a number of days. Every religious ceremony has its appropriate offerings to the priests, and this one, like the others, fills them with good things, and it matters but little then whether Buddh remains cold or becomes hot.”