“From the veranda or through the open door we can see the stream gliding by in graceful silence, the native boats passing up and down; the farther bank with its smiling groves and houses half hidden between; farther out, on the plain, a widespreading forest of palm and other trees, whose towering tops tell us the site and limits of Cheung Mai surrounded by its high and massive wall of brick. Beyond and over the top of this city arose that grand old mountain, Doi Su Tape, ever beautiful, ever changing in its beauty.
“Were I an expert at the pencil, I might send you some time a landscape of river, plain and mountain superior to many that are esteemed by the true artist as gems of the beautiful and picturesque. It is our privilege to look upon this landscape of varied beauty every day. For a week or more we were shut in, native style, at every point of the compass by a luxuriant growth of tamarind, bamboo, and garden shrubbery. It is thus that the native houses, which generally stand back a distance from the river-pathway, are sometimes entirely concealed by the dark-green foliage of the gardens. In front of our premises a number of tamarind trees stand in all the carelessness of the primeval forest. Some of them clutch the bank with their great roots, a part of which have been washed bare by the stream when at its height. Their widespread branches intercepted our view of the river and mountain and kept out the cooling breeze. But the axe, by lopping and pruning, soon gave scope to the eye and ingress to the healing wind.”
This principal mission-station is on the right bank of the river. On the left bank, near the bridge, is Dr. Cheek’s compound, on the city side—the gift of the chief of Cheung Mai to the missionary-physician, who is consulted by the royal family in sickness.
Through the gate that leads from the public road to Dr. Cheek’s dispensary a steady stream of Laos men, women and children, rich and poor, passes to and fro. “His name is a synonym,” says a traveler[3] who recently visited Cheung Mai, “of all that is good and kind throughout the district, he having relieved the sufferings and saved the lives of hundreds of natives, and thereby earned their warm gratitude. Adjoining his house he has erected a long bamboo shed, subdivided into a number of small apartments, which serve as the wards of a hospital. Here he has performed hundreds of operations with such skill and such success that even the superstitious Laotians come from long distances to be cured by him when suffering from painful diseases or severe wounds. The chiefs and princes often send for him when their reliance upon the superstitious rites of the native ‘faculty’ begins to fail them, though, in such cases, his advice has often been only asked when the patients have been in extremis. Two or three years ago he saved the life of the chief’s wife when all the drugs and incantations of several native medicos had been called into requisition in vain.
“Dr. Cheek has also established a boat-building yard, where he gives employment to a large number of men, and where he has introduced improved models of boats and better modes of construction. American tools have been introduced, and are gradually superseding the primitive adzes and saws of the natives.”
The same traveler describes the palace of the chief of Cheung Mai as “a mixture of Chinese and Laos architecture. Along the whole front extended a long, open room, partially furnished with European furniture, the only article of native workmanship a large gilt state-chair or throne reserved for the use of the head-priest when he came to visit the chief.”
The palace itself and the court-life within are characterized by great simplicity, the king, “an old man, tall of stature, but slightly stooping beneath his load of sixty-four years,” usually spending much of his time in mechanical work, of which he is fond, and the queen sharing with him in the transaction of state business. The present queen is a woman of remarkable intelligence, and exercises a predominant influence in the government, “by virtue,” says a missionary, “of her exceptional feminine tact.”
Cheung Mai has a large market, which is very neat and orderly. It is kept by women, who seat themselves on the ground, with vegetables, fruits and confectionery deposited on plantain-leaves or in little baskets made by themselves. While not trading they work on embroidery used in ornamentation. Formerly, salt was the market currency, and so seldom was money used that the owners of the articles often did not know the value of them in money, but could readily tell if asked how much salt they would take. The occasion of this was that all their salt came from a great distance and was very precious in Cheung Mai. Within a few years the Siamese government has sent small coin to take the place of salt as a currency. The people were much confused for a while by the change, and circulated them reluctantly. Some were even imprisoned for persisting in taking salt to market to make their purchases.
The principal articles for sale are provisions, fruits, tobacco, betel-nut, fish, mushrooms, wax, cotton, earthenware and flowers. The pork-stalls are kept by men, and there are some Chinese sheds where cotton goods, brass and wooden trays and Burmese lacquer-ware are sold. There are a large number of temples in the city, among others the new Wat Hluang, or royal temple, recently built on the site of a very old one.
Homes and Daily Life.