"The krises most preferred are those of the kinds termed Simpana,
Cherita, and Sapokal. The kris panjang is worn generally by the
Malayan aristocracy and bridegrooms. I have seen some beautiful
specimens of this weapon in Rumbowe, worn by the chiefs of that
state. The blades resembled that of a long, keen poniard of
Damascus steel; the handles of ebony, covered with flowered gold,
and sheaths richly ornamented with the same metal; they are used
in the execution of criminals. Malays do not prize their krises
entirely by the quantity of gold with which they may be inlaid,
but more for their accurate proportions agreeably to the measurement
which is laid down in their treatises on this subject; the damask on
the blade; the antiquity and a certain lucky quality that they may
possess either from accurate proportions, the damask, the having
shed human blood, or from supernatural endowment, like the famous
sword "Excalibur." This property is termed betuah, which signifies
literally exempt from accident, invulnerable. The reverse is termed
chelaka, ill-omened. They believe the betuah in some cases imparts
invulnerability to the possessor of such a kris, which is handed
down as an heirloom from father to son, and honoured as something
divine. The kris is, as with the Javanese, an indispensable article
in dress on particular occasions, and there are numerous regulations
regarding the wearing of it. The Undang Undang Malacca [740] contains
strict injunctions, which are observed to this day, against a person
of inferior birth wearing a kris ornamented with gold." [741]
Besides the mode above described, several other methods of measuring
the k'ris are also in vogue. They differ in various matters of detail,
and will be found in the Appendix.
The measurement of one-edged weapons is effected as follows:--
Measure the length of the weapon from hilt to point, and fold the
string so measured in two. Measure off this half-length from the hilt
and see how often the breadth of the blade is contained in the whole
length of the string. Each time, however, that the edge is reached,
the string must be marked or dented, and the long end wrapped round and
round the blade, so that the measurement of each breadth is consecutive
to the preceding breadth, the portion of the string which is stretched
across the back of the blade not being counted.
This method is called ukor mata sa-b'lah, and is used by Sumatran
Malays, especially in Menangkabau.
Spearheads can also be measured:--
Measure off the length of the spearhead and fold the string in two;
see how often the breadth is contained in the half of the string;
if the blade is a good one, it must be five and a half times (tengah
anam). This is called ukor orang Perak or ukor tengah anam.
Another superstition connected with weapons is described as follows
by Sir Frank Swettenham. It illustrates the magic powers attributed
to the Pawang in so many departments of nature and life, but does
not seem to have any special object or meaning.
"A great many Malays and one or two Europeans may be found who profess
to have seen water drawn from a kris. The modus operandi is simple. The
pawang (I dare not call him conjurer) works with bare arms to show
there is no deception. He takes the kris (yours, if you prefer it)
from its wooden handle, and, holding the steel point downwards in
his left hand, he recites a short incantation to the effect that he
knows all about iron, and where it comes from, and that it must obey
his orders. He then with the thumb and first two fingers of his right
hand proceeds to gently squeeze the steel, moving his fingers up and
down the blade. After a little while a few drops of water fall from
the point of the kris, and these drops quickly develop into a stream
that will fill a cup. The pawang will then hand round the blade and
tell you to bend it; this you will find no difficulty in doing, but
by making two or three passes over the kris the pawang can render it
again so hard that it cannot be bent.
"The only drawback to this trick or miracle is that the process ruins
the temper of the steel, and a kris that has been thus treated is
useless." [742]
The subject of this section, more perhaps than any of the others,
has lost its former importance, and become almost a matter of merely
historical interest. In the Malay Peninsula, at least in the States
which are under British protection, offensive weapons are seldom
worn now-a-days except on State occasions and for purely ceremonial
purposes; and warfare, it may be hoped, is now a thing of the past. In
spite of the halo of romance thrown round it in native writings,
Malay warfare (in modern times, at least) has never been anything
but the barest and most bloodthirsty piracy by sea, and the merest
"bushwhacking" and stockade-fighting on land; its final suppression,
even if in some degree it should involve a slackening of fibre in the
Malay character, is not a matter for regret. With it will disappear
much of the curious lore that surrounded it, and indeed a good deal
of it must have been lost already. Little has been said here of the
methods of divination used in warfare which take up so much space
in Malay treatises on the subject; success in war is held to depend
on a great number of minute observances, and to be capable of being
foretold by careful attention to omens and signs. But the divination
applied in warfare does not seem to differ in principle from that which
is used in all the other avocations of life, and a sufficient idea of
its nature will be gathered from the account given in the next section.
12. DIVINATION AND THE BLACK ART
Omens and Dreams
The significance of ominous signs and dreams is a subject which
possesses vast ramifications, extending so deeply into every department
of the Malay national life, that it will be impossible to do it
anything like full justice within the narrow limits of this book. My
object will be merely to indicate the main lines on which these two
important doctrines of the Malay natural religion appear to have
been developed.
Briefly, then, omens may be drawn either from the acts of men or the
events of nature. Examples of the ominous import attributed to the
acts of man will at once suggest themselves. Thus sneezing is said to
be fortunate as tending to drive away the demons of disease; [743]
yawning is a bad sign, for obvious reasons, if the breath is loudly
emitted, but if a quiet yawn occurs when the stomach is craving for
food, it imports that it will soon be filled. So too stumbling is a
bad omen, especially if the person who stumbles is about to set out on
a journey. [744] Then, again, "to be long in getting up after a meal
is said to be a bad omen. It means that the person, if unmarried, will
meet with a bad reception from his or her parents-in-law hereafter. The
Malay saying in the vernacular is 'Lambat bangket deri tampat makan,
lambat di-tegur mentuwak.' Clothes which have been nibbled by rats
or mice must not be worn again. They are sure to bring misfortune,
and are generally given away in charity. ... When a Malay dinner is
served, the younger members of the family sometimes amuse themselves
by throwing rice into the pan from which the curry has just been taken,
stirring it round in the gravy that remains and then eating it. This is
not permitted when one of them is to be married on the following day,
as it would be sure to bring rainy weather. It is unlucky for a child
to lie on his face (menyehrap), and kick his feet together in the air
(menyabong kaki). It betokens that either his father or mother will
die. A child seen doing this is instantly rebuked and stopped....
"The evil eye is dreaded by Malays. Not only are particular people
supposed to be possessed of a quality which causes ill-luck to
accompany their glance (the mal'occhio of the Italians), but the
influence of the evil eye is often supposed to affect children, who are
taken notice of by people kindly disposed towards them. For instance,
it is unlucky to remark on the fatness and healthiness of a baby,
and a Malay will employ some purely nonsensical word, or convey his
meaning in a roundabout form, rather than incur possible misfortune
by using the actual word 'fat.' 'Ai bukan-nia poh-poh gental budak
ini?' ('Isn't this child nice and round?') is the sort of phrase
which is permissible." [745]
Among omens drawn from natural events are the following:--
"When a star is seen in apparent proximity to the moon, old people
say there will be a wedding shortly....
"The entrance into a house of an animal which does not generally
seek to share the abode of man is regarded by the Malays as ominous
of misfortune. If a wild bird flies into a house it must be carefully
caught and smeared with oil, and must then be released in the open air,
a formula being recited in which it is bidden to fly away with all
the ill-luck and misfortunes (sial jambalang) of the occupier. An
iguana, a tortoise, and a snake, are perhaps the most dreaded of
these unnatural visitors. They are sprinkled with ashes, if possible,
to counteract their evil influence.
"A swarm of bees settling near a house is an unlucky omen, and
prognosticates misfortune." [746]
So, too, omens are taken either from the flight or cries of certain
birds, such as the night-owl, the crow, some kinds of wild doves,
and the bird called the "Rice's Husband" (laki padi).
Passing from the idea of mere omens drawn from fortuitous events we
easily arrive at the idea of a conscious attempt on the part of the
worshipper to ascertain the divine pleasure with respect to a sacrifice
newly offered. This effort of the worshippers becomes crystallised in
time into a sub-rite, which yet forms an integral portion of most,
if not all, of the more important ceremonies, [747] and eventually
develops into a special and separate rite called Tilek (divination),
of which examples will now be given.
One form of this rite was taught by a Malay of Penang extraction,
whose instructions, taken down by me at the time, ran as follows:--
Take a lemon (limau purut), a hen's egg, a taper made of bees'-wax
(lilin lebah), four bananas, four Malay (palm-leaf covered) cigarettes,
four "chews" of betel-leaf, a handful of parched rice, washed rice, and
rice stained with turmeric (saffron), one of the prickles or "thorns"
(duri) of a thorn-backed mudfish, a needle with a torn eye (taken
out of one of the sets of a "score" in which they are sold--jarum
rabit dalam sekudi), and a couple of small whips, or rather birches,
one of which must be composed of seven, and the other of twelve,
leaf-ribs of the "green" cocoa-nut palm (niyor hijau).
Two of the bananas, two cigarettes, two chews of "betel," half of each
of the three kinds of rice, the egg, and the birch of seven twigs,
must now be taken outside the house and set down under a tree selected
for the purpose. When setting it down the egg must be cracked, the
cigarettes lighted, and finally the taper also. On one occasion when I
witnessed the performance, the taper, after being taken up between the
outstretched fingers of my friend's two hands, was waved slowly to and
fro--first to the right and then to the left; finally it was set down
on the ground and began to burn blue, the flame becoming more and more
dim until it almost expired. On seeing this the medicine-man exclaimed,
"He has promised" (dia mengaku), and led the way back to the house,
where he proceeded to go through the remainder of the ceremony.
First, he deposited the brazier with incense upon the leaf of
a banana-tree, then took the prickle of the fish and thrust it
horizontally through the lower end of the lemon, leaving both ends
exposed; then he thrust the needle through in a transverse direction,
so as to form a cross, the ends of the needle being likewise exposed,
and slipped the noosed end of a piece of silken thread of seven
different colours over the points thus exposed.
Next he scattered the rice round the censer and fumigated the birch and
the lemon, recited a charm as he held the latter in his right hand,
recited the charm for the second time [748] as he took the birch
in both hands, with the upper end close to his mouth and the lower
(spreading) end over the brazier, and finally repeated the charm for
a third time, suspending, as he did so, the lemon over the brazier
by means of the thread held in his left hand and holding the birch
in the right.
Everything being ready, he now began to put questions to the lemon
into which the spirit was supposed to have entered, rebuking it and
threatening it with the birch whenever it failed to answer distinctly
and to the point. The conversational powers of this spirit were
extremely limited, being confined to two signs signifying "Yes" and
"No." The affirmative was indicated by a pendulum-like swaying of the
lemon, which rocked to and fro with more or less vehemence according
to the emphasis (as my friend informed me) with which the reply was
to be delivered. Negation, on the other hand, was indicated by a
complete cessation of motion on the part of the lemon.
When it is required to discover, for instance, the name of a thief,
the names of all those who are at all likely to have committed the
theft are written on scraps of paper and arranged in a circle round
the brazier, when the lemon will at once swing in the direction of
the name of the guilty party. The best night for the performance of
this ceremony is a Tuesday.
Sir Frank Swettenham's account of a similar ceremony of which he was
an eye-witness will serve as a good illustration of the methods in
use for this purpose:--
"It was my misfortune some years ago to be robbed of some valuable
property, and several Malay friends strongly advised me to take the
advice of an astrologer, or other learned person who (so they said)
would be able to give the name of the thief, and probably recover
most of the stolen things. I fear that I had no great faith in this
method of detection, but I was anxious to see what could be done,
for the East is a curious place, and no one with an inquiring mind
can have lived in it long without seeing phenomena that are not always
explained by modern text-books on Natural Philosophy.
"I was first introduced to an Arab of very remarkable appearance. He
was about fifty years old, tall, with pleasant features and
extraordinary gray-blue eyes, clear and far-seeing, a man of striking
and impressive personality. I was travelling when I met him, and tried
to persuade him to return with me, but that he said he could not do,
though he promised to follow me by an early steamer. He said he would
be able to tell me all about the robbery, who committed it, where
the stolen property then was, and that all he would want was an empty
house wherein he might fast in solitude for three days, without which
preparation, he said, he would not be able to see what he sought. He
told me that after his vigil, fast, and prayer, he would lay in his
hand a small piece of paper on which there would be some writing; into
this he would pour a little water, and in that extemporised mirror
he would see a vision of the whole transaction. He declared that,
after gazing intently into this divining-glass, the inquirer first
recognised the figure of a little old man. That having duly saluted
this Jin, it was necessary to ask him to conjure up the scene of the
robbery, when all the details would be re-enacted in the liquid glass
under the eyes of the gazer, who would there and then describe all
that he saw. I had heard all this before, only it had been stated to
me then that the medium through whose eyes the vision could alone be
seen must be a young child of such tender years that it could have
never told a lie! The Arab, however, professed himself not only able
to conjure up the scene, but to let me see it for myself if I would
follow his directions. Unfortunately, my gray-eyed friend failed to
keep his promise, and I never met him again.
"A local Chief, however, declared his power to read the past by this
method, if only he could find the truthful child. In this he appeared
to succeed, but when, on the following day, he came to disclose to
me the results of his skill, he said that a difficulty had arisen,
because just when the child (a little boy) was beginning to relate
what he saw he suddenly became unconscious, and it took the astrologer
two hours to restore him to his normal state. All the mothers of
tender-aged and possibly truthful children declined after this to
lend their offspring for the ordeal.
"My friend was not, however, at the end of his resources, and,
though only an amateur in divination, he undertook to try by other
methods to find the culprit. For this purpose he asked me to give
him the names of every one in the house at the time the robbery was
committed. I did so, and the next day he gave me one of those names
as that of the thief. I asked how he had arrived at this knowledge;
he described the method, and consented to repeat the experiment in my
presence. That afternoon I went with him to a small house belonging
to his sister. Here I found the Chief, his sister, and two men whom I
did not recognise. We all sat in a very small room, the Chief in the
centre with a copy of the Koran on a reading-stand, near to him the
two men opposite to each other, the sister against one wall, and I
in a corner. A clean, new, unglazed earthenware bowl with a wide rim
was produced. This was filled with water and a piece of fair white
cotton cloth tied over the top, making a surface like that of a drum.
"I was asked to write the name of each person present in the house
when the robbery was committed on a small piece of paper, and to fold
each paper up so that all should be alike, and then to place one of
the names on the cover of the vessel. I did so, and the proceedings
began by the two men placing each the middle joint of the fore-finger
of his right hand under the rim of the bowl on opposite sides, and
so supporting it about six inches above the floor. The vessel being
large and full of water was heavy, and the men supported the strain
by resting their right elbows on their knees as they sat cross-legged
on the floor and face to face. It was then that I selected one of
the folded papers, and placed it on the cover of the vessel. The
Chief read a page of the Koran, and as nothing happened he said that
was not the name of the guilty person, and I changed the paper for
another. This occurred four times, but at the fifth the reading had
scarcely commenced when the bowl began to slowly turn round from
left to right, the supporters letting their hands go round with it,
until it twisted itself out of their fingers and fell on the floor
with a considerable bang and a great spluttering of water through
the thin cover. 'That,' said the Chief, 'is the name of the thief.'
"It was the name of the person already mentioned by him.
"I did not, however, impart that piece of information to the company,
but went on to the end of my papers, nothing more happening.
"I said I should like to try the test again, and as the Chief at
once consented we began afresh, and this time I put the name of the
suspected person on first, and once more the vessel turned round and
twisted itself out of the hands of the holders till it fell on the
floor, and I was surprised it did not break. After trying a few more
I said I was satisfied, and the ordeal of the bowl was over. Then
the Chief asked me whose name had been on the vessel when it moved,
and I told him. It was a curious coincidence certainly. I wrote the
names in English, which no one could read; moreover, I was so placed
that no one could see what I wrote, and they none of them attempted
to do so. Then the papers were folded up so as to be all exactly
alike; they were shuffled together, and I did not know one from the
other till I looked inside myself. Each time I went from my corner
and placed a name on the vessel already held on the fingers of its
supporters. No one except I touched the papers, and no one but the
Chief ever spoke till the seance was over. I asked the men who held
the bowl why they made it turn round at that particular moment, but
they declared they had nothing to do with it, and that the vessel
twisted itself off their fingers against their inclination.
"The name disclosed by this experiment was certainly that of the
person whom there was most reason to suspect, but beyond that I
learnt nothing.
"Another plan for surprising the secret of the suspected person is
to get into the room where that person is sleeping, and after making
certain passes to question the slumberer, when he may truthfully
answer all the questions put to him. This is a favourite device of
the suspicious husband.
"Yet another plan is to place in the hand of a pawang, magician,
or medium, a divining-rod formed of three lengths of rattan, tied
together at one end, and when he gets close to the person 'wanted,'
or to the place where anything stolen is concealed, the rod vibrates
in a remarkable manner." [749]
A somewhat analogous practice is the ordeal by diving, described by
the late Sir W. E. Maxwell as "a method of deciding a disputed point
which was occasionally resorted to in Perak in former times. I got
the following account of the manner of conducting the ordeal from
a Malay chief who saw it carried out once at Tanjong Sanendang near
Pasir Sala, in the reign of Sultan Abdullah Mohamed Shah, father of
the present Raja Muda Yusuf:--
"The ordeal by diving requires the sanction of the Sultan himself,
and must be conducted in the presence of the Orang Besar Ampat,
or Four Chiefs of the first rank. If two disputants in an important
question agree to settle their difference in this way they apply to
the Raja, who fixes a day (usually three days off) for the purpose,
and orders that a certain sum of money shall abide the event. This
appointment of time and place is the first stage in the proceedings,
and is called bertepat janji, and the laying of the bet or deposit
of stakes is called bertiban taroh. On the day appointed the parties
attend with their friends at the Raja's balei, [750] and there,
in the presence of the Court, a krani [751] writes down a solemn
declaration for each person, each maintaining the truth of his side
of the question. The first, invoking the name of God, the intercession
of the Prophet, and the tombs of the deceased Sultans of the country,
asserts the affirmative proposition, and his adversary with the same
solemnity records his denial. This is called bertangkap mangmang or
'taking up the challenge.' Each paper is then carefully rolled up by
the krani, and is placed by him in a separate bamboo tube; the ends
of both are then sealed up. When thus prepared the bamboo tubes are
exactly alike, and no one, not even the krani, can tell which contains
the assertion and which the denial. Two boys are then selected; one
of the bamboos is given to each, and they are led down to the river,
where the Raja and Chiefs take up their station, and the people flock
down in crowds. Two stakes have been driven into the bed of the river
in a pool previously selected, and the boys are placed beside them,
up to their necks in water. A pole is placed horizontally on their
heads, and on a given signal this is pressed downwards, and the boys
are made to sink at the same moment. Each holds on to his post under
water and remains below as long as he can. As soon as one gives in and
appears above water his bamboo tube is snatched from him and hurled
far out into the stream. The victor is led up in triumph to the balei,
and the crowd surges up to hear the result. His bamboo is then opened
and the winner declared.
"The Perak Malays believe this to be an infallible test of the truth
of a cause. The boy who holds the false declaration is half-drowned,
they say, as soon as his head is under the water, whereas the champion
of the truth is able to remain below until the bystanders drag the
post out of the river with the boy still clinging to it. Such is the
power of the truth backed by the sacred names and persons invoked!
"The loser is often fined in addition to suffering the loss of his
stakes (one-half of which goes to the Raja). He also has to pay the
customary fees, namely, $6.25 for the use of the balei, $12.50 to
the krani, and $5 to each of the boys.
"This ordeal is not peculiar to Perak. I find a short description of a
similar custom in Pegu in Hamilton's New Accounts of the East Indies
(1727). In Pegu, he says, the ordeal by water is managed 'by driving
a stake of wood into a river and making the accuser and accused take
hold of the stake and keep their heads and bodies under water, and
he who stays longest under water is the person to be credited.'" [752]
But by far the largest class of divinatory rites consists of
astrological calculations based on the supposed values of times and
seasons, or the properties of numbers. For the purposes of the native
astrologer, exhaustive tables of lucky and unlucky times and seasons
have been compiled, which are too long to be all examined here in
detail, but of which specimens will be found in the Appendix. Few of
them are likely to be original productions, most, if not all, being
undoubtedly translated from similar books in vogue either in India
or Arabia. Besides these tables, however, use is frequently made of
geometrical (and even of natural) diagrams, to the more important
parts of which certain numerical values are assigned. [753]
Perhaps the oldest and best known of the systems of lucky and unlucky
times is the one called Katika [754] Lima, or the Five Times. Under it
the day is divided into five parts, and five days form a cycle [755]:
to each of these divisions is assigned a name, the names being Maswara
(Maheswara), Kala, S'ri, Brahma, and Bisnu (Vishnu), which recur in
the order shown in the following table or diagram:--
Morning. Forenoon. Noon. Afternoon. Evening.
(pagi) (tengah (tengah (tengah (petang)
naik) hari) turun)
(1st day) Maswara Kala S'ri Brahma Bisnu
(2nd day) Bisnu Maswara Kala S'ri Brahma
(3rd day) Brahma Bisnu Maswara Kala S'ri
(4th day) S'ri Brahma Bisnu Maswara Kala
(5th day) Kala S'ri Brahma Bisnu Maswara
These names are the names of Hindu divinities, Maheswara being Shiva,
and constituting with Brahma and Vishnu the so-called Hindu Trinity,
while Kala is either another title of Shiva, or stands for Kali,
his wife, and S'ri is a general title of all Hindu gods [756]; but
it may be doubted whether this division of time is not of Javanese
or Malayan origin, although the importance of the number five is also
recognised by the Hindus. [757]
The same mystic notions of colour and the like are attached to these
divisions by the Malays as obtain in the case of the Javanese days
of the week: thus Maheswara's colour is yellow-white (puteh kuning):
if you go out you will meet a man of yellow-white complexion, or
wearing yellow-white clothes; it is a lucky time for asking a boon
from a Raja, or for doing any kind of work; good news then received
is true, bad news is false, and so on.
Kala's colour is a reddish black (hitam merah [758]); if you go
out you will meet a bad man or have a quarrel; it is an unlucky time
altogether: the good news one hears turns out untrue, and the bad true;
illness occurring at this time is due to a ghost (hantu orang), and
the remedy is a black fowl; in cock-fighting a black cock will beat
a white one at this time, but when setting him to fight you must not
face towards the west, etc.
Similarly S'ri's colour is white, Brahma's is red, Vishnu's is green,
and each division has its respective advantages or disadvantages. [759]
Another version of this system, known as the Five Moments (sa`at),
is based on a somewhat similar diagram, but has orthodox Muhammadan
names for its divisions, viz. Ahmad, Jibra'il (Gabriel), Ibrahim
(Abraham), Yusuf (Joseph), and `Azra'il (Azrael).
Its diagram, as will be seen, is not quite the same as that of the
Katika Lima, though the general scheme of the two systems corresponds
closely.
Sunrise. Forenoon. Noon. Afternoon. Sunset.
(k'luar (tengah (tengah (tengah (waktu
mata hari) naik) hari) turun) maghrib)
(1st day) Ahmad Jibra'il Ibrahim Yusuf `Azra'il
(2nd day) Jibra'il Ibrahim Yusuf `Azra'il Ahmad
(3rd day) Ibrahim Yusuf `Azra'il Ahmad Jibra'il
(4th day) Yusuf `Azra'il Ahmad Jibra'il Ibrahim
(5th day) `Azra'il Ahmad Jibra'il Ibrahim Yusuf [760]
So in Ahmad's division if you lose a buffalo or a bullock, it has
gone to the southward and will be recovered; good news then received
is true, bad news is false; the time is auspicious for any kind of
work, for going on a voyage, sailing, or planting, and very profitable
for trading; it is a lucky time for going to war, but you must wear
white clothes and face southwards by a little east, and pray to God
Almighty. Jibra'il's time is fairly lucky too, being good for planting
and profitable for trading, and if gold or silver is lost then,
it will be quickly found, but there may be some trouble in getting
it back; a lost buffalo or bullock has gone southwards, but will be
recovered after some slight trouble; if you go to war at this time you
must wear green, but must not face towards the south. Ibrahim's time
is most unlucky, and going out then is sure to involve bloodshed or
other misfortune; bad news is true, good is false; things lost then
will not be recovered; going to war is ruinous, and if you do go,
the only way of safety is to face to the north, but it is best to
stay at home altogether at this time.
Yusuf's time is lucky in some respects, but unlucky in others; in
warfare one must face towards the west, and wear yellow. `Azra'il's
time is most unlucky; to go to war then is most disastrous; any
business pending at this ill-omened time should be postponed to a
more favourable occasion. [761]
Besides these two there is a system in which each of the seven days
of the ordinary week is divided into five parts, each of which is
characterised by one of the words ampa, bangkei, rezki, and aral
(for `aradl), symbolical apparently of No Success, Death, Success,
and Unforeseen Obstacle. [762]
Another scheme (Katika Tujoh), based on the Seven Heavenly Bodies,
divides each day into seven parts, each of which is distinguished by
the Arabic name of one of the Heavenly Bodies.
The first day runs,--
(1) Shams (2) Zuhrah (3) `Utarid (4) Kamar
Sun Venus Mercury Moon
(5) Zuhal (6) Mushtari and (7) Mirrikh
Saturn Jupiter Mars
and the times are--early morning (pagi-pagi), morning (tengah naik),
just before noon (hampir tengah hari), noon (tengah hari), afternoon
(dlohr), late afternoon (`asr), and sunset (maghrib).
For the second day the series begins with the Moon, and goes on in
the above order to Mercury; and for the third day it begins with Mars;
so that each day of the week begins with its appropriate planet in the
usual order, which is best seen in the French names Mardi, Mercredi,
Jeudi, Vendredi, and the English Saturday, Sunday and Monday.
Each of the seven divisions has its lucky or unlucky characteristics,
much as in the systems already described.
Besides these, each day of the week has its own appropriate
occupations, according to another system, at times ascertained by
measuring the length of one's shadow. Further, it would appear that
some days are unlucky altogether: one account gives seven unlucky
days in every month; another asserts that Thursday is unlucky in the
months Dhu-'l-hijjah, Muharram, and Safar; Tuesday in Rabi`-al-awal,
Rabi`-al-akhir, and Jumada-'l-awal; Saturday in Jumada-'l-akhir, Rejab
and Sha`ban; Sunday in Ramadhan, Shawal, and Dhu-'l-ka`idah; a third
specifies twelve other most inauspicious days in every year, viz. the
28th of Muharram, the 10th of Safar, the 14th of Rabi`-al-awal, and so
on, while for greater convenience a calendar has been drawn up, which
is far too long to be reproduced here, but which closely resembles
the weather chart illustrated on another page, and gives the whole
list of days of the Muhammadan year classified under the heads lucky
(baik), somewhat unlucky, very unlucky, and neutral.
Besides this, whole years are lucky or unlucky according as the first
of Muharram falls on a Sunday, Monday, etc.; and, moreover, years vary
in luck according to the letter they bear in the Cycle of Eight. [763]
Most of these systems of divination involve the construction of a
sort of calendar, and require some degree of astronomical knowledge;
but of astronomy properly so-called the Malays have scarcely even a
smattering, its place being taken by the, to them, far more important
science of astrology. "Their meagre ideas regarding the motions of
the heavenly bodies are derived, through the Arabs, from the Ptolemaic
system." [764]
The seven Heavenly Bodies (Bintang Tujoh), mentioned above, whose
motions they believe to be produced by the agency of angels, [765]
retain their Arabic names, [766] and are believed to rule the "seven
ominous moments" (Katika Tujoh), which are supposed to depend on the
influences of these several sidereal bodies. [767]
The signs of the Zodiac similarly bear Arabic appellations, the form
of divination in which they bear the principal part being called the
Twelve Constellations (Bintang Dua-b'las). [768]
This form of divination is not quite so common as are those of the Five
Ominous Times (5-square) and the Seven Heavenly Bodies (7-square), and
I have not been able to find out much about the methods of working it,
but a copy of one of the diagrams used for the purpose will be found
on another page.
According to one view, which is perhaps the prevalent one, every man's
luck is determined by one or other of the zodiacal constellations,
and in order to find out which one it is, the following direction
is given:--
"Reckon the numerical equivalent of the person's name and of the name
of his mother by the values of the letters according to the system of
the Abjad; add the two numerical equivalents together, and divide the
total by twelve; if the remainder is 1, his sign is the Ram, if 2,
the Bull, and so on."
Each constellation has a series of characteristics which are supposed
to influence the whole life of the person who is subject to it. [769]
Besides the above, a few of the other constellations are known to
possess Malay names, and wherever this is the case, the name given
appears usually to be quite original, having no connection with
the nomenclature obtaining among nations with which we are more
familiar. [770]
In addition to the above, the Malays possess a curious system
by which the lunar month is divided into a number of parts called
Rejang. According to Newbold, "the twenty-eight Rejangs resemble the
Nacshatras or lunar mansions of the Hindoos, rather than the Anwa
of the Arabs"; [771] and it is a priori very probable that they owe
their origin to this Hindu system. But by the Malays their application
has been generally misunderstood, and their number is usually raised
to thirty so as to fit the days of the lunar month. Each of these
divisions has its symbol, which is usually an animal, and the first
animal in the list is (in almost all versions) the horse. A horse's
head is also the figure of the first of the Hindu Nakshatras, but
there seems to be little trace of identity in the remaining figures,
which for the sake of comparison are given, side by side with the
Malay symbols, in the Appendix. The Malays have embodied this system
in a series of mnemonic verses (known as Sha`ir Rejang), of which
there are several versions, e.g. the Rejang of 'Che Busu, the Rejang
Sindiran Maiat, and others. [772]
The Rejangs are also dealt with at length in prose treatises: one of
these, which identifies the Rejangs with the days of the lunar month,
begins "on the first day of the month, whose rejang is a horse, God
Almighty created the prophet Adam; this day is good for planting,
travelling, and sailing, and trading on this day will be profitable;
it is also a good day for a wedding, and on this day it is lucky to
be attacked (i.e. in war), but rather unlucky to take the offensive;
... good news received (at this time) is true, bad news is false;
property lost (on this day) will soon be recovered; the man who stole
it is short of stature, with scanty hair, a round face, a slender
figure and a yellow complexion; the property has been placed in a
house, ... under the care of a dark man; ... if a child is born on
this day it will be extremely fortunate; if one is ill on this day,
one will quickly recover; the proper remedy for driving away the
evil (tolak bala), is to make a representation of a horse and throw
it away towards the (East?)" [773] In other respects this system of
divination seems to agree in its main features with those which have
already been described.
Having mentioned the divisions of the calendar which are chiefly
used in divination, it seems desirable, for the sake of completeness,
to allude briefly to those that remain.
"The better informed Malays acknowledge the solar year of 365 days,
which they term the toun (tahun) shemsiah, but in obedience to their
Mohammedan instructors, adopt the lunar year (toun kumriah) of 354
days." [774]
This remark is still true, no doubt, of the up-country Malays on the
West Coast, but in most districts, and to an extent commensurate with
European influence, the solar year is now being gradually introduced.
The same remark applies to the method of reckoning months, a dual
system being now in vogue in many places where there is most contact
with Europeans. Regarding the native methods the following quotation
is to the point:--
"There are three ways of reckoning the months. First, the Arabian,
computing thirty days to the first month, and twenty-nine to the
second month, and so on alternately to the end of the year.
"Second, the Persian mode, viz. thirty days to each month; and,
thirdly, that of Rum, i.e. thirty-one days to the month. The first is
in general use. Some few, with greater accuracy, calculate their year
at 354 days eight hours, intercalating every three years twenty-four
hours, or one day to make up the deficiency, and thirty-three days
for the difference between the solar and lunar years.
"But the majority of the lower classes estimate their year by
the fruit seasons and by their crops of rice only. Many, however,
obstinately adhere to the lunar months, and plant their paddy at the
annual return of the lunar month."
"The Malay months have been divided into weeks of seven days, marked by
the return of the Mohammedan Sabbath. Natives who have had intercourse
with Europeans divide the day and night into twenty-four parts, but
the majority measure the day by the sun's apparent progress through
the heavens, the crow of the cock, etc. The religious day commences
at sunset, like that of the Arabs and Hebrews."
"There are two cycles borrowed from the Arabs, and known only to
a few, viz. one of 120 years, the dour [775] besar, and the other
of eight, dour kechil. The latter is sometimes seen in dates of
letters, and resembles the mode adopted by us of distinguishing
by letters the different days of the week, substituting eight
years for the seven days. The order of the letters is as follows:
Alif-ha-jim-za-dal-ba-wau-dal-Ahajazdabuda. The present year (1251)
is the year Toun-za.
"In a Malay MS. history of Patani, in my possession, I find the Siamese
mode of designating the different years of the cycle by the names of
animals adopted." [776]
Most if not all these systems of reckoning seem to have been treated
by the Malays from the astrological point of view as forming a basis
for divination, and these crude notions of the lucky or unlucky nature
of certain times and seasons are to some extent systematised by or in
some degree mixed up with the idea of the mystic influence of numbers
and geometrical figures.
Of the mystic figures used in divination, the first in importance is,
no doubt, what has been called the "magic square," a term applied to
"a set of numbers arranged in a square in such a manner that the
vertical, horizontal, and diagonal columns shall give the same sums."
The ordinary form of magic square, which was formerly in use in Europe,
is the following; it is occasionally found even among the Malays.
Magic Square of 3.
8 1 6
3 5 7
4 9 2
Magic Square of 5.
17 24 1 8 15
23 5 7 14 16
4 6 13 20 22
10 12 19 21 3
11 18 25 2 9
Magic Square of 7.
30 39 48 1 10 19 28
38 47 7 9 18 27 29
46 6 8 17 26 35 37
5 14 16 25 34 36 45
13 15 24 33 42 44 4
21 23 32 41 43 3 12
22 31 40 49 2 11 20
But the form of magic square generally used by the Malays is the same
figure reversed.
Magic Square of 3. [777]
6 1 8
7 5 3
2 9 4
Magic Square of 5.[777]
15 8 1 24 17
16 14 7 5 23
22 20 13 6 4
3 21 19 12 10
9 2 25 18 11
Magic Square of 7.[777]
28 19 10 1 48 39 30
29 27 18 9 7 47 38
37 35 26 17 8 6 46
45 36 34 25 16 14 5
4 44 42 33 24 15 13
12 3 43 41 32 23 21
20 11 2 49 40 31 22
The ordinary Malay astrologer most likely understands very little
of the peculiar properties of a magic square, and consequently he
not unfrequently makes mistakes in the arrangement of the figures. I
believe, also, that in using the squares for purposes of divination he
now usually begins at one corner and counts straight on, the beginning
place being almost always distinguished by a small solitary crescent
or crescent and star just over the square. [778] When coloured squares
are introduced, as is the case with several of the 5-squares, the sum
of 25 squares is subdivided into five sets or groups of five squares
each, a different colour being assigned to each group. These colours
would no doubt retain the comparative values usually assigned to them
by Malay astrologers. Thus white would be the best of all; yellow,
as the royal colour, little, if at all inferior to white; brown,
blue, or red would be medium colours; black would be bad, and so on.
Sometimes, again, the names of the five Hindu deities already
mentioned will be found similarly arranged, in which case they appear
to refer to the divisions of the day, described above under the name
of Katika Lima. Besides this class of magic squares, however, there
are other kinds which present irregularities, and are not so easily
explainable. Some of these violate the fundamental rule of the magic
square, which insists that each square shall have an equal number
of small squares running each way, and that this number shall be an odd one. |
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