numerous princes of the royal blood, is allowed to enter
unless naked to the waist, sarong' and turban forming
their entire apparel.
As a native durbar in the heart of Java is one of
the most curious ceremonies one can possibly behold in
this our nineteenth century, I cannot resist giving a
detailed account of i t ; for beyond the presence of the
European element, I don’t suppose that anything has
been changed in the whole business for the last 500
years, or even longer.
After passing the outer gate of the Imperial residence,
we were marched through no less than five courtyards,
separated from each other by walls covered with
creepers, and containing gardens, one-storied buildings,
and colonnades. The broad path we were threading
was lined by Dutch and native soldiers, until at last we
reached the pleasure ground surrounding the palace, an
extensive pile of buildings open to the front, and giving
admittance to a large square verandah, now used as the
durbar hall, its roof supported by gilded and coloured
pillars. Here a wonderful sight presented itself, not
exceeded even by the most extravagant scenes in the
fairy land of our nursery ta le s: an immense garden
filled with all the richness of tropical vegetation, magnificent
palms, plantains, and fern trees, floweis of
every hue and fantastically festooned creepers, and
amidst it all were groups of women and children, got
up in all the colours of the rainbow, as far as the little
clothing, they cover themselves with, admits of. They
were admirably posed, and so were the Imperial bodyguards
and warriors in little knots, dressed in ancient
costume, and carrying bows and arrows. Their arms
and breasts were stained with saffron, and a short
sarong, striped brown and yellow, reaching to the knee;
but, instead of hanging straight down petticoat-fashion,
here it fell round the loins in graceful folds, one end
of it made to hang down in front closely plaited and
almost touching the ground. A broad coloured belt
confined the sarong in the waist, and a head-dress
consisting of a brown handkerchief tied at the back in
an enormous stiff bow of triangular shape,-—rather like
that worn by the Vierländer Mädchen, selling violets
in the streets of Hamburg,—enhanced the droll effect
of their attire, whilst banners and flags added their
quota to the mass of brilliant colour. To complete the
picture we must imagine the sweet strains of music
performed by invisible artists, hidden in different parts
of the garden, and above all the cloudless sky and
bright sunshine lighting up the scene.
The Emperor (Paku Saidin Panatogomo) Susuhunan
IX., a rigid, well-proportioned man of thirty-three,
looking quite his age, who hardly moved a muscle of