Chapter I: Burmah

CONTENTS.

Introductory--Ruins of Thatún, Prome, and Pagan--Circular Dagobas--Monasteries.

INTRODUCTORY.

The styles of architecture described in the preceding chapters of this volume practically exhaust the enumeration of all those which were practised in India Proper, with its adjacent island of Ceylon, from the earliest dawn of our knowledge till the present day. It might, therefore, be possible to treat their description as a work complete in itself, and to conclude without reference to other styles practised in neighbouring countries. It will add, however, immensely not only to the interest but to the completeness of the work, if the history is continued through the architectural forms of those countries which adopted religions originating in India, and borrowed with them architectural forms which expressed, with more or less distinctness, how far their religious beliefs differed from, or agreed with, those of the country from which they were derived.

The first of these countries to which we naturally turn is Burmah, which adopted the religion of Sakya Muni at a very early period, and borrowed also many of the Indian forms of architecture, but with differences we are now at a loss to account for. It may be, that, as we know nothing practically of the architectural forms of the Lower Bengal provinces before the beginning of the 6th century, these forms may have been taken to Prome and Pegu before that time; or it may be that a northern or Thibetan element crept into Burmah across the northern mountains by some route we cannot now follow. These are interesting problems we shall not be able to solve till we have a more critical knowledge than we now possess of Burmese buildings. Thanks to the zeal and intelligence of some recent English travellers, we do know a great deal about Burmese art. The works of Symes,[564] Crawfurd,[565] and, above all, of Colonel Yule,[566] are replete with information; but what they did was done in the intervals they were able to snatch from pressing public duties. What is really wanted is, that some qualified person should take up the subject specially, and travel through the country with no other object than to investigate its antiquities. With the knowledge we now have, six months spent on such a mission ought to tell us all, or nearly all, we now want to know.[567] Pending that being done, we must be content to leave a good deal still to be explained by future investigators.

THATÚN.

The earliest really authentic notice we have of these countries is in the ‘Mahawanso.’ It is there related that, after the third convocation--B.C. 246--Asoka despatched two missionaries, Sono and Uttaro, to Souverna Bhumi, the Golden Land, to carry the glad tidings of the religion of the Vanquisher.[568] It is now perfectly ascertained that this place was almost certainly the Golden Chersonese of classical geographers, situated on the Sitang river, and now called Thatún, about forty miles’ travelling distance north from Martaban.[569] Since it ceased to be a place of importance, either by the silting up from the river or the elevation of the land, it is now no longer a port; but there can be little doubt that for some centuries before and after the Christian Era it was the emporium through which a very considerable portion of the trade between China and the western world was carried on. The line of passage was apparently across the Bay of Bengal from the delta of the Kistnah and Godavery; and it was to this trade route that we probably owe the rise and importance of Amravati till it was superseded by the direct sea-voyage from Gujerat and the west coast of India in the 6th century. The place was sacked and entirely destroyed, according to Sir A. Phayre, in A.D. 1080, by Anauratha, king of Pegu; but long before that time it had been dwindling, from the growing importance of Pegu, which was founded in A.D. 517 or A.D. 573.[570]

The only description of its ruins is by St. Andrew St. John, in the second volume of the ‘Phœnix’ above referred to; but they seem even now to be very extensive, in spite of neglect and consequent decay. The walls can still be traced for 7700 ft. in one direction by 4000 ft. in another, enclosing a regular oblong of more than 700 acres. In this enclosure are several old pagodas, some, unfortunately, recently repaired, but all of a form we have not yet met with, though we shall presently when we come to speak of Java.

The principal pagoda here, like all the others, is built of hewn laterite. Its base is a square, measuring 104 ft. each way, and 18 ft. high; the second storey is 70 ft. square and 16½ ft. high; the third 48 ft. square and 12 ft. high. On this now stands a circular pagoda, making up the whole height to 85 ft. Mr. St. John fancies this circular part may be much more modern than the rest, but he adds, “the whole face of the pagoda has been carved in patterns; but the most remarkable part is the second storey, to which access is given by four flights of steps, one in the centre of each face. The whole was apparently adorned with sculptures of the most elaborate character.”

There seem to be no data to enable us to fix with certainty the date of this or of other similar pagodas in this place, and no photographs to enable us to speak with certainty as to their details, which is to be regretted, as it is just in such an old city as this that we may expect to find those early forms which may explain so much that is now unintelligible in subsequent examples. Thatún was coeval with Anuradhapura in Ceylon, and if examined with care, might do as much for the square form of temple as the island capital may do for the round form. Their greatest interest would, however, arise from the light they might throw on the square temples of Pagan and other Burmese cities, whose origin it has hitherto been impossible to explain. Meanwhile it is a fact worth bearing in mind that we find here square three-storeyed pagodas, which certainly were erected before A.D. 1080, when the city was destroyed, and probably before the 6th century, when it was practically superseded by the rise of the new city and kingdom of Pegu.

PROME.

If we might trust the Burmese annals, Prome was a capital city as early as the year 101 of Faith, or after the Nirvana of Buddha.[571] In other words, it seems probable that Buddhist missionaries from the second convocation held under Kalasoka, in the previous year (B.C. 433), established themselves here, and introduced the new religion into the country.[572] The real political capital of the country at that time seems to have been Tagoung, half-way between Ava and Bhamo, on the Upper Irawaddi.[573] Prome, however, seems to have continued the religious capital till A.D. 107, when the two capitals were amalgamated, under the name of Old Pagan on the northern site, to be again transferred to New Pagan, below Ava, about the year 847.[574] Upper Pagan seems to have been visited by Captain Hannay, in A.D. 1835, and by others subsequently, and the remains are described as extensive, but too much ruined and obscured by jungle to admit of any scientific investigation. Those of Prome would probably be even more interesting; but I know of no description that enables us to ascertain what they really are. I have photographs of some dagobas--rather too tall to be very old--but, without some mouldings or architectural details, it is impossible to guess even what their age may be; so that practically the architectural history of Burmah begins with the foundation of Pagan in the middle of the 9th century, and as it was destroyed by the Chinese, or rather the Tartar army of Kublai Khan, in 1284,[575] its glory lasted little more than four centuries. During that period, however, it was adorned by a very extensive series of monuments, most of which still remain in a state of very tolerable preservation.

It will thus be observed that the rise and fall of Pagan are, as nearly as may be, coincident with that of Pollonarua, in Ceylon; but the Burmese city seems to have excelled the Ceylonese capital both in the extent of its buildings and in their magnificence. Their differences, too, both in form and detail, are very remarkable, but, if properly investigated, would throw light on many religious and ethnographical problems that are now very obscure.

PAGAN.

The ruins of Pagan extend about eight miles in length along the river, with an average breadth of about two miles, and within that space Colonel Yule estimates there may still be traced the remains of 800 or 1000 temples. Several of these are of great magnificence, and are kept in a state of repair; but the bulk of them are in ruins, and the forms of the greater part hardly distinguishable.

Of these, one of the most remarkable is that of Ananda. As will be seen from the annexed plan (Woodcut No. 346), it is a square of nearly 200 ft. on each side, with projecting porticos on each face, so that it measures 280 ft. across each way. Like all the great pagodas of the city, it is seven storeys in height; six of these are square and flat, each diminishing in extent, so as to give the whole a pyramidal form; the seventh, which is or simulates the cell of the temple, takes the form of a Hindu or Jaina temple, the whole in this instance rising to the height of 183 ft.

Internally, the building is extremely solid, being intersected only by two narrow concentric corridors; but in rear of each projecting transept is a niche most artificially lighted from above, in which stands a statue of Buddha more than 30 ft. in height. This is the arrangement we find in the Chaumuk temple at Palitana and at Sadri (Woodcut No. 133), both Jaina temples of the 15th century, and which it is consequently rather surprising to find here as early as the 11th century (A.D. 1066[576]); but the form and the whole of the arrangement of these temples are so unlike what we find elsewhere that we must be prepared for any amount of anomalies.

Next in rank to this is the Thapinya--the Omniscient--erected about the year 1100 by the grandson of the king who built the Ananda. It is very similar to the Ananda both in dimensions and in plan, except that it has only one porch instead of four, and consequently only one great statue in its cell instead of four standing back to back. Its height is 201 ft., and it is the highest in the place (Woodcuts Nos. 347, 348).

The third in importance is called the Gaudapalen, built in 1160. This temple is smaller than those just mentioned, but makes up in richness and beauty of detail for its more diminutive dimensions.

The Dhamayangyee, now in ruins, is quite equal in dimensions to the Ananda, and very much resembles it in plan and design; while one called the Sem Byo Koo, is, in its details, the most beautiful of any.

The general appearance of these temples will be understood from the annexed view (Woodcut No. 349) of that called Gaudapalen, and their general arrangements from the section of the Thapinya, of which a plan is given (Woodcut No. 347). They are all so similar that it is needless to multiply illustrations, the only real difference being in the greater or less amount of ornament in stucco which has been applied to each.

The first thing that strikes the inquirer on examining these temples is their remarkable dissimilarity with anything on the continent of India. They are not topes in any sense of the term, nor are they viharas. The one building we have hitherto met with which they in any way resemble is the seven-storeyed Prasada at Pollonarua (Woodcut No. 106), which, no doubt, belongs to the same class. It is possible that the square pagodas at Thatún, when properly examined, may contain the explanation we are searching for. They evidently were not alone, and many other examples may still be found when looked for. On the whole, however, I am inclined to believe, improbable as it may at first sight appear, that their real synonyms are to be found in Babylonia, not in India. The Birs Nimroud is, like them, a seven-storeyed temple, with external stairs, leading to a crowning cell or sanctuary. Of course, during the seventeen centuries which elapsed between the erection of the two buildings, considerable changes have taken place. The lowest stairs in Burmah have become internal; in Babylonia they were apparently external. At the head of the third flight at the Birs, Sir Henry Rawlinson found the remains of three recesses. At Pagan these had been pushed into the centre of the third storey. The external flights were continued on the upper three storeys at both places; but in Babylonia they lead to what seems to have been the real sanctuary, in Burmah to a simulated one only, but of a form which, in India, always contained a cell and an image of the deity to whom the temple was dedicated.

It may be asked, How is it possible that a Babylonian form should reach Burmah without leaving traces of its passage through India? It is hardly a sufficient answer to say it must have come _viâ_ Thibet and Central Asia; because, in the present state of our knowledge, we do not know of such a route being used. It is a more probable explanation to say that such monuments may have existed in the great Gangetic cities, but, like these Burmese examples, in brick and plaster; and have perished, as they would be sure to do in that climate, and where hostile races succeeded the Buddhists. But, however it may be eventually accounted for, it hardly appears to me doubtful that these Burmese seven-storeyed temples are the lineal descendants of the Babylonian examples, and that we shall some day be able to supply the gaps which exist in their genealogy.

Meanwhile one thing must be borne in mind. The earliest capital of the Burmese was Tagoung in the north, and their real affinities are with the north. They got their religion by the southern route from Bengal, but it was engrafted on a stem of which we know very little, and all whose affinities have yet got to be traced to their source.

* * * * *

Before leaving these square temples, it may be well to point out some peculiarities which are new to us. In the first place it is a purely brick style, and, as such, using true radiating arches, not only to span the openings but to roof their passages and halls. This is so unlike what we find in any part of India Proper, that it seems to point with certainty to some foreign--most probably a northern--country for its origin. As frequently mentioned above, no Buddhist arch is known to exist in India,[577] and, except in the reign of Akbar, hardly a Hindu one, in any temple down to the present day. It could hardly, in consequence, be derived from that country, but there is no reason for believing that the Chinese or Tartar nations ever showed any aversion to these forms. We know, at all events, that the Assyrians and Babylonians used brick arches long before the Christian Era, and the art may have been communicated by them to the nations of Northern Asia, and from them it may have come down the Irawaddi.

It would be a curious speculation to try and find out what the Jains in western India would have done had they been forced to use brick instead of stone during the 11th and 12th centuries, which was the great building epoch on the Irawaddi and in Gujerat. Possibly they would have arrived at the same conclusion, in which case we can only congratulate ourselves that the westerns were not tempted with the fatal facility of bricks and mortar.

Another peculiarity is, that these square Burmese pagodas adopt the curvilinear sikra of the Indo-Aryan style. This may be considered a sufficient indication that they derived some, at least, of their architectural features, as well as their religion, from India; but as this form was adopted by both Jains and Hindus in the north of India, from the mouths of the Indus to the Bay of Bengal in that age, it hardly enables us to point out the particular locality from which it was derived, or the time at which it was first introduced. It is, however, so far as we at present know, the only instance of its being found out of India Proper.

CIRCULAR DAGOBAS.

Leaving these square quasi-Jaina temples, which are clearly exceptional, the dagobas of Burmah are found to be generally much more like those which are found in India and Ceylon, though many, having been erected only in the present century, are of forms more complex and attenuated than those in India Proper.

The one most like the Indian type is that known as the Kong Madú, not far from Mengûn, on the same side of the river. The mass of the dome, according to Colonel Yule,[578] is about 100 ft. diameter. It is taller than a semicircle--which would indicate a modern date--and stands on three concentric bases, each wider than the other. Round the whole is a railing, consisting of 784 stone pillars, each standing about 6 ft. out of the ground, and divided into four quadrants by four stone gateways (Woodcut No. 350). An inscription, on a white marble slab, records the erection of this pagoda between the years 1636 and 1650. I, at one time, thought it must be older; but the evidence of recent explorations renders this date more probable than it formerly appeared. If correct, it is curious as showing how little real change had occurred during the sixteen centuries which elapsed between the erection of the tope at Sanchi (Woodcuts Nos. 10-12) and the seventeenth century.

Perhaps the most important pagoda in the Burmese empire is the great Shoëmadu[579] at Pegu, of which a plan and elevation are given from those published by Colonel Symes in his account of his embassy to Ava. As will be seen from the woodcuts (Nos. 351, 352), the plan deviates considerably from the circular form, which is exclusively used in the edifices of this class hitherto described, and approaches more nearly to those elaborately polygonal forms which are affected by all the Hindu builders of modern date. It returns, however, to the circular form before terminating, and is crowned, like all Burmese buildings of this class, by an iron spire or tee richly gilt.

Another peculiarity is strongly indicative of its modern date: namely, that instead of a double or triple range of pillars surrounding its base, we have a double range of minute pagodas--a mode of ornamentation that subsequently became typical in Hindu architecture--their temples and spires being covered, and, indeed, composed of innumerable models of themselves, clustered together so as to make up a whole. As before remarked, something of the same sort occurs in Roman art, where every window and opening is surmounted by a pediment or miniature temple end, and in Gothic art, where a great spire is surrounded by pinnacles or spirelets; but in these styles it is never carried to the same excess as in Hindu art. In the present instance it is interesting, as being one of the earliest attempts at this class of decoration.

The building stands on two terraces, the lower one about 10 ft. high, and 1391 ft. square; the upper one, 20 ft. in height, and 684 ft. square; from the centre rises the pagoda, the diameter of whose base is 395 ft. The small pagodas are 27 ft. high, and 108 or 110 in number; while the great pagoda itself rises to the height of 331 ft. above its terrace, or 361 ft. above the country, thus reaching a height about equal to that of St. Paul’s Cathedral: while the side of the upper terrace is only 83 ft. less than that of the great Pyramid.

Tradition ascribes its commencement to two merchants, who raised it to the height of 12 cubits, at an age slightly subsequent to that of Buddha himself. Successive kings of Pegu added to it from time to time, till at last it assumed its present form, most probably about three or four centuries ago.

The next in importance, so far as we know, is the more generally known Shoëdagong pagoda at Rangûn, a building very similar in dimensions to the last named, and by no means unlike it, except that the outline of the base is cut up to even a greater extent, and the spire more attenuated--both signs of a comparatively modern date. The base is even more crowded by little temples than that at Pegu, and its whole height is somewhat less. There is, however, no essential difference between the two buildings, and this is principally interesting as leading us one step further in the series from the solid hemispherical mound to the thin spire, which, both in Burmah and Siam, is the modern form usually assumed by these edifices, till they lose all but a traditional resemblance to the buildings from which they originally sprang.

The general appearance of their spires may be gathered from the three shown on the left of the annexed woodcut (No. 353), which is precisely that of the Great Pagoda. This illustration is also valuable as showing the last lineal descendant of these great human-headed winged lions that once adorned the portals of the palaces at Nineveh; but after nearly 3000 years of wandering and ill-treatment have degenerated into these wretched caricatures of their former selves.

The Shoëdagong pagoda, like all the more important ones, is fabled to have been commenced about 2300 years ago, or about the era of Buddha himself; its sanctity, however, is owing to its containing relics, not only of the last Buddha, but also of his three predecessors--Buddha having vouchsafed eight hairs of his head to its two founders, on the understanding that they were to be enshrined with the relics of the three former Buddhas, where and when found.[580] After numerous miraculous indications, on this spot were discovered the staff of Kakusanda, believed to have lived some 3000 years before Christ, the water-dipper of Konagamma, and the bathing garment of Kasyapa, which, with the eight hairs above mentioned, are enshrined within this great pagoda.[581] Originally, however, notwithstanding the value of its deposit, the building was small, and it is probably not more than a century since it assumed its present form.

A crowd of smaller pagodas surrounds the larger one, of all sizes, from 30 ft. to 200 ft. in height, and even more. There is scarcely a village in the country that does not possess one or two, and in all the more important towns they are numbered by hundreds; indeed, they may almost be said to be innumerable. They are almost all quite modern, and so much alike as not to merit any distinct or separate mention. They indicate, however, a great degree of progressive wealth and power in the nation, from the earliest times to the present day, and an increasing prevalence of the Buddhistical system. This is a direct contrast to the history of Ceylon, whose glory was greatest in the earliest centuries of the Christian Era, and was losing its purity at the time when the architectural history of Burmah first dawns upon us. Thus the buildings of one country supplement those of the other, and present together a series of examples of the same class, ranging over more than 2000 years, if we reckon from the oldest topes in Ceylon to the most modern in Burmah.

At a place called Mengûn, about half-way between the former capital of Amîrapura and the present one at Mandalé, are two pagodas, which are not without considerable interest for our present purposes; if for no other reason, at least for this--that both were erected within the limits of the present century, and show that neither the forms nor aspirations of the art were wholly extinguished even in our day. The first is circular in form, and was erected in the year 1816, in the reign of a king of Burmah called Bodo Piyah, who is also the author of the second. As will be seen from the woodcut (No. 354), it is practically a dagoba, with five concentric procession-paths. Each of these is ornamented by a curious serpent-like balustrade, interspersed with niches containing, or intended to contain, statues of Buddha, and is accessible by four flights of steps facing the four cardinal points. The whole is surrounded by a low circular wall, 750 ft. in diameter, said to represent the serpent Ananta. Within this is a basement, measuring about 400 ft. across, and this, with the procession-paths and dagoba on the summit, make up seven storeys, intended, it is said, to symbolise the mythical Mount Meru.[582]

It will be recollected that, when speaking of the great dagobas of Anuradhapura in Ceylon, it was pointed out (_ante_, p. 190) that they had three procession-paths round their bases, ascended in like manner by flights of steps opposite the four cardinal points of the compass. It is interesting to observe here, after a lapse of 2000 years, and at a distance of nearly 1500 miles, the changes have been so small. It is true the number of procession-paths has increased from three to five, and the terraces become relatively much more important than in the older examples; but, barring this and some changes in detail, the

monuments are practically the same, notwithstanding all the curious varieties that have sprung up in the interval.

The other pagoda at this place was commenced by the same king, called Mentara Gyé, or Bodo Piyah, who died in 1819, and seems to have been an attempt to revive the old square forms of Pagan, in the same manner as the other was intended to recall memories of the older forms of early Indian Buddhism. “It stands on a basement of five successive terraces, of little height, the lower terrace forming a square of 450 ft. From the upper terrace starts the vast cubical pile of the pagoda, 230 ft. square in plan, and rising, in a solid mass, to the height of about 100 ft., with slightly sloping walls. Above this it contracts in successive terraces, three of which had been completed, raising the mass to a height of 165 ft., at the time the work was abandoned.”[583] From a model standing near, it is inferred that, if completed, it would have risen to the height of 500 ft.; it is even now a solid mass containing between 6,000,000 and 7,000,000 cubic feet of brickwork. Had it been carried out, it would have been the tallest building in the world. It was, however, shattered by an earthquake in 1839; but, even in its ruined state, is as large and imposing a mass of brickwork as is to be found anywhere.[584] Since the pyramids of Egypt, nothing so great has been attempted, and it belongs to the 19th century!

MONASTERIES.

As Burmah is a country in which the monastic system of Buddhism flourishes at the present day to the fullest extent, if we had more information regarding its monasteries, or _kioums_ as they are called, it might enable us to understand the arrangement of the older ones. The travellers who have visited the country have been silent on the subject, principally because the monasteries are, in almost all instances, less magnificent than the pagodas to which they are attached, and are, with scarcely an exception, built of wood--a practice destructive of their architectural character, and also depriving them wholly of that monumental appearance of stability which is so essential to true architectural expression.

This peculiarity is not confined to the monasteries; all residences, from that of the poorest peasant to the palace of the king, having been constructed from time immemorial of this perishable material. The custom has now passed into a law, that no one shall have the power of erecting buildings of stone or brick, except it be the king himself, or unless the edifices be of a purely religious character. Even this exception is not always taken advantage of, for the king’s palace itself is as essentially a wooden erection as the dwelling of any of his subjects. It is, however, not the less magnificent on this account--rather, perhaps, more so--immense sums being spent on the most elaborate carvings, and the whole being lacquered, painted, and gilt, to an extent of which we have no conception in our more sober clime.

The general appearance of the façade may be realised from the annexed view (Woodcut No. 355); but its real magnificence consists in the profusion of gilding and carving with which every part is covered, and to which it is impossible to do justice on so small a scale.

The same profuse decorations are bestowed upon the monasteries, one of which is represented in the annexed woodcut (No. 356), showing a building in which all the defects arising from the use of so easily carved a material, are carried to excess. If the colouring and gilding could be added, it would represent a building such as the West never saw, and, let us hope, never will see; for, however dazzling its splendour, such barbaric magnificence is worthy only of a half-civilized race.

The naked form of these monasteries--if the expression may be used--will be understood from the following woodcut (No. 357) of one recently erected at Mandalé, and, though inhabited, not quite finished. It is five storeys in height, and, if I mistake not, as nearly reproduces the Lowa Maha Paya of Anuradhapura, as the circular Mengûn pagoda does the Abhayagiri or Ruanwelli dagobas there. Here, however, the storeys have lost their meaning; only one storey is used as a residence[585]--the first, or “piano nobile,” as we would call it. The upper storeys are only ornamental reminiscences of past utilitarian forms, but which evidently once had a meaning. Had the building been completed--perhaps it is now--it would have been ornamented with carving as richly as that represented in the preceding woodcut, for it is one of the advantages of wooden architecture, that its decorative features may be added after the fabric is practically complete in all essential points.

These many-storeyed kioums, with the tall seven-storeyed spires (shown in Woodcuts Nos. 353 and 356), bring us back to the many-storeyed temples in Nepal, which are in all essential respects so nearly identical, that it can hardly be doubted they had a common origin. We are not yet in a position to point out the connecting links which will fuse the detached fragments of this style into a homogeneous whole, but it is probably in China that they must be looked for, only we know so little of the architectural history of the western portion of that great country, that we must wait for further information before even venturing on this subject.

The fact that all the buildings of Burmah are of wood, except the pagodas, may also explain how it is that India possesses no architectural remains anterior to the age of Asoka. Except the comparatively few masonry pagodas, none of which existed prior to his era, there is nothing in Burmah that a conflagration of a few hours would not destroy, or the desertion of a few years entirely obliterate. That the same was the practice of India is almost certain, from the essentially wooden forms still found prevailing in all the earlier cave temples; and, if so, this fully accounts for the disappearance of all earlier monuments.

We know that wooden architecture was the characteristic of Nineveh, where all the constructive parts were formed in this perishable material; and from the Bible we learn that Solomon’s edifices were chiefly so constructed. Persepolis presents us with the earliest instance in Asia of this wooden architecture being petrified, as it were--apparently in consequence of the intercourse its builders maintained with Egypt and with Greece.

In Burmah these wooden types still exist in more completeness than, perhaps, in any other country. Even if the student is not prepared to admit the direct ethnographic connexion between the buildings of Burmah and Babylon--which seems hardly to admit of doubt--he will at any rate best learn in this country to appreciate much in ancient architecture, which, without such a living illustration, it is hard to understand. Solomon’s House of the Cedars of Lebanon is, with mere difference of detail, reproduced at Ava or Amîrapura; and the palaces of Nineveh and Persepolis are rendered infinitely more intelligible by the study of these edifices. Burmah is almost equally important in enabling us to understand what an active, prosperous Buddhist community may have been in India at a time when that religion flourished there; and altogether, if means were available for its full elucidation, it would form one of the most interesting chapters in the History of Architecture in Asia.