The Mammoth Book of Travel in Dangerous Places (13 page)

We resumed our journey on the following day, the Abbé on one elephant, reading his breviary, and I upon another, both of us greatly enjoying the beauty of the landscape. Thus we traversed
the beautiful plains, which, when I formerly travelled this road, were inhabited by the poor Thiâmes; but now, in place of rich harvest, I was astonished to find nothing but large trees: the
villages were abandoned, and the houses and enclosures in ruins. It appeared that the mandarin of Pemptiélan, executing or exceeding the orders of his master the king of Cambodia, had kept
these unfortunate people in such a state of slavery and oppression that they had even been deprived of their fishing and agricultural implements, and, being left without money or resources,
experienced such frightful poverty that many of them died of hunger.

The poor wretches, to the number of several thousands, and under the conduct of a chief on whose head a price had been set, and who had secretly returned from Annam, rose in revolt. Those from
Penom-Peuh went to Udong to protect their brethren in that place in their flight; and when all were united in one body, they descended the river, and passed into Cochin China. Orders were issued by
the king to arrest their departure, but no one remained to execute them; for the whole Cambodian population, with the mandarins at their head, had fled into the forests at the first news of the
rising.

Besides the interest inspired by the misfortunes of these poor people, their conduct, when all fled before them, and left Udong, Pinhalú, and Penom-Peuh defenceless, was so noble as
greatly to increase this feeling. “We have no enmity against the people”, said they, “if they will but let us pass and respect our property; but we will put to death whoever
opposes our flight.” And, in fact, they never touched one of the large boats which were moored near the market, and unguarded, but took to the river in their narrow and miserable
pirogues.

On the 21st December we at last reached Pinhalú.

Penom-Peuh is about 103° 3' 50" long, of Paris, and 11° 37' 30" north lat. It is the great market of Cambodia, and only two or three leagues from the southern frontier of Cochin China:
it is situated at the confluence of the Mekon with its tributary: from this point the river flows first north-east, and then north-west, as far as China and the mountains of Thibet. The arm, which
has no name, but which, to distinguish it, it might be well to call Mé-Sap, from the name of the lake Touli-Sap, flows from its source south-east to the point of junction. About 12° 25'
north lat. commences the great lake, which stretches as far as 13° 53'. In shape it might be compared to a violin. The whole space between it and the Mekon is a vast plain; while on the
opposite side are the great chains of Poursat and its ramifications.

The entrance to the great lake of Cambodia is grand and beautiful. The river becomes wider and wider, until at last it is four or five miles in breadth; and then you enter the immense sheet of
water called Touli-Sap, as large and full of motion as a sea. It is more than 120 miles long, and must be at least 400 in circumference.

The shore is low, and thickly covered with trees, which are half submerged; and in the distance is visible an extensive range of mountains whose highest peaks seem lost in the clouds. The waves
glitter in the broad sunshine with a brilliancy which the eye can scarcely support, and, in many parts of the lake, nothing is visible all around but water. In the centre is planted a tall mast,
indicating the boundary between the kingdoms of Siam and Cambodia.

In the province still bearing the name of Ongeor, which is situated eastward of the great lake Touli-Sap, towards the 14th degree of north lat., and 104° long. east of
Greenwich, there are, on the banks of the Mekon, and in the ancient kingdom of Tsiampois (Cochin-China), ruins of such grandeur, remains of structures which must have been raised at such an immense
cost of labour, that, at the first view, one is filled with profound admiration, and cannot but ask what has become of this powerful race, so civilised, so enlightened, the authors of these
gigantic works?

One of these temples – a rival to that of Solomon, and erected by some ancient Michelangelo – might take an honourable place beside our most beautiful buildings. It is grander than
anything left to us by Greece or Rome, and presents a sad contrast to the state of barbarism in which the nation is now plunged.

Unluckily the scourge of war, aided by time, the great destroyer, who respects nothing, and perhaps also by earthquakes, has fallen heavily on the greater part of the other monuments; and the
work of destruction and decay continues among those which still remain standing, imposing and majestic, amidst the masses of ruins all around.

One seeks in vain for any historical souvenirs of the many kings who must have succeeded one another on the throne of the powerful empire of Maha-Nocor-Khmer. There exists a tradition of a
leprous king, to whom is attributed the commencement of the great temple, but all else is totally forgotten. The inscriptions, with which some of the columns are covered, are illegible; and, if you
interrogate the Cambodians as to the founders of Ongeor-Wat, you invariably receive one of these four replies: “It is the work of Pra-Eun, the king of the angels”; “It is the work
of the giants”; “It was built by the leprous king”; or else, “It made itself.”

The work of giants! The expression would be very just, if used figuratively, in speaking of these prodigious works, of which no one who has not seen them can form any adequate idea; and in the
construction of which patience, strength, and genius appear to have done their utmost in order to leave to future generations proofs of their power and civilisation.

It is remarkable that none of these monuments were intended for habitations; all were temples of Buddhism. The statues and bas-reliefs, however, curiously enough, represent entirely secular
subjects – monarchs surrounded by their wives, their heads and arms loaded with ornaments such as bracelets and necklaces, the body being covered with a narrow
langouti.
On a sort of
esplanade is a statue, said to be that of the leprous king. It is a little above the middle height, and the prince is seated in a noble and dignified attitude. The head, particularly, is a
chef-d’œuvre,
the features perfectly regular, and possessing a manly beauty of a description seen now in very rare instances, and only amongst Cambodians of unmixed race, living
in seclusion at the foot of the mountains, where the unhealthiness of the climate condemns them to a solitary existence; or among the savage mountaineers who occupy the border country separating
Siam and Cambodia from the kingdom of Annam.

This place was probably chosen for the capital on account of its central position. It is situated fifteen miles from the great lake, in an arid and sandy plain, although the banks of the river
would appear to have been a preferable site, more fertile, and offering greater facilities for communication.

Although making no pretension whatever either to architectural or archæological acquirements, I will endeavour to describe what I saw, for the benefit of others interested in these
sciences, and, as well as I can, to draw the attention of Eastern
savans
to a new scene. I shall commence with the temple of Ongeor, the most beautiful and best preserved of all the remains,
and which is also the first which presents itself to the eye of the traveller, making him forget all the fatigues of the journey, filling him with admiration and delight, such as would be
experienced on finding a verdant oasis in the sandy desert. Suddenly, and as if by enchantment, he seems to be transported from barbarism to civilisation, from profound darkness to light.

Before arriving at Ongeor from Battambong, having previously crossed the great lake from the mouth of either of the currents which traverse both those localities, you come upon a stream, which,
in the dry season, you ascend for a couple of miles, and reach a spot where it becomes somewhat larger, forming a small natural basin, which serves the purpose of a kind of harbour. From this place
a raised causeway, still passable at the present day, and extending as far as the limit which the waters attain at the period of the inundations, that is to say, over a space of three miles, leads
to New Ongeor, an insignificant little town, the capital of the province, and situated fifteen miles to the N.N.W. of the shores of the lake.

If, starting from this point, you follow for about a couple of hours in the same direction a dusty sandy path passing through a dense forest of stunted trees; and having also frequently crossed
the river, which is exceedingly sinuous in its course, you will arrive at an esplanade about 9 metres wide by 27 long, parallel to the building. At each angle, at the extremity of the two longer
sides, are two enormous lions, sculptured out of the rock, and forming, with the pedestals, only a single block. Four large flights of steps lead to the platform.

From the north staircase, which faces the principal entrance, you skirt, in order to reach the latter, a causeway 230 metres in length by 9 in width, covered or paved with large slabs of stone,
and supported by walls of great thickness. This causeway crosses a ditch 220 metres wide, which surrounds the building; the revetment, 3 metres high by 1 metre thick, is formed of ferruginous
stone, with the exception of the top row, which is of freestone, each block being of the same thickness as the wall.

What strikes the observer with not less admiration than the grandeur, regularity, and beauty of these majestic buildings, is the immense size and prodigious number of the blocks of stone of
which they are constructed. In this temple alone are as many as 1532 columns. What means of transport, what a multitude of workmen, must this have required, seeing that the mountain out of which
the stone was hewn is thirty miles distant! In each block are to be seen holes 2½ centimetres in diameter and 3 in depth, the number varying with the size of the blocks; but the columns and
the sculptured portions of the building bear no traces of them. According to a Cambodian legend, these are the prints of the fingers of a giant, who, after kneading an enormous quantity of clay,
had cut it into blocks and carved it, turning it into a hard and, at the same time, light stone by pouring over it some marvellous liquid.

All the mouldings, sculptures, and bas-reliefs appear to have been executed after the erection of the building. The stones are everywhere fitted together in so perfect a manner that you can
scarcely see where are the joinings; there is neither sign of mortar nor mark of the chisel, the surface being as polished as marble. Was this incomparable edifice the work of a single genius, who
conceived the idea, and watched over the execution of it? One is tempted to think so; for no part of it is deficient, faulty, or inconsistent. To what epoch does it owe its origin? As before
remarked, neither tradition nor written inscriptions furnish any certain information upon this point; or rather, I should say, these latter are as a sealed book for want of an interpreter; and they
may, perchance, throw light on the subject when some European savant shall succeed in deciphering them.

Halt of the caravan in the jungle between Battambong and Bangkok. Drawn by M. Catenacci, from a sketch by Mouhot. From
Travels in Central Parts of Indo China.

A temple, about 100 metres in height, built of limestone has been erected on the top of Mount Bakhêng, which is situated two miles and a half north of Ongeor-Wat, on the
road leading to the town. At the foot of the mountain are to be seen, among the trees, two magnificent lions, 20 centimetres in height, and each formed, with the pedestals, out of a single block.
Steps, partly destroyed, lead to the top of the mountain, whence is to be enjoyed a view so beautiful and extensive, that it is not surprising that these people, who have shown so much taste in
their buildings, should have chosen it for a site.

On the one side you gaze upon the wooded plain and the pyramidal temple of Ongeor, with its rich colonnades, the mountain of Crome, which is beyond the new city, the view losing itself in the
waters of the great lake on the horizon. On the opposite side stretches the long chain of mountains whose quarries, they say, furnished the beautiful stone used for the temples; and amidst thick
forests, which extend along the base, is a pretty, small lake, which looks like a blue ribbon on a carpet of verdure. All this region is now as lonely and deserted as formerly it must have been
full of life and cheerfulness; and the howling of wild animals, and the cries of a few birds, alone disturb the solitude.

Sad fragility of human things! How many centuries and thousands of generations have passed away, of which history, probably, will never tell us anything: what riches and treasures of art will
remain for ever buried beneath these ruins; how many distinguished men – artists, sovereigns, and warriors – whose names were worthy of immortality, are now forgotten, laid to rest
under the thick dust which covers these tombs!

OVER THE KARAKORAMS

Francis Edward Younghusband