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decrease10 July, 1905 – My Room in the Chao Muang’s Palace - about noon
Today is Tuesday, and I was hoping to conclude my business today. I rose early after a refreshing night’s sleep, and put on my best suit - though it is fearfully uncomfortable in this heat! At long last, Minister Rattamontrii appeared, but only to tell me that His Excellency could not see me today. However, there were a few matters that he was empowered to discuss.
He repeated again that the Chao Muang could not be expected to take over an estate without the necessary rights to command the residents to serve him. Again, I referred to the legal position, emphasising that the English are proud to have abolished slavery – both in our own land, and in 1833 in any part of the Empire, which, though it includes about a quarter of the world’s population, did not – as yet – extend to Siam.
The minister assured me that he would do his best to convince His Excellency that this was the case, and could not be changed, but went on to ask me what other arrangements could be made to provide the necessary servants.
I explained that they might be hired, but further discussion revealed that the Chao Muang expected his slaves to perform many tasks that no English freeman or woman would demean themselves to do, whatever the remuneration.
In the end, I suggested that the Chao Muang bring his own retinue – a solution which Rattamontrii thought might be acceptable to His Excellency. However, I had to inform him that I was no specialist on immigration law, and that unfortunately, a letter to my colleague, Mr Andrews, who specialises in such matters, would take far too long. At this, minister Rattamontrii brightened. “We can contact your colleague by electric telegraph.”
I was astonished. “You have the telegraph here!” I exclaimed.
“Well, not exactly here,” said the minister. The telegraph wires follow the railway and go as far as Nakhon Ratchasima – but we can send your message on horseback and get a reply within a few days.
“Excellent!” I said, “I will write a telegram immediately, and perhaps you would also take one for my wife.”
“All shall be arranged as you wish it,” said the minister as he bowed out of my presence.
As soon as he had gone, I settled down to write my telegrams.
10 July, 1905 - Telegram to Andrews and Andrews, Solicitors, Great College St, Westminster, SW1
NEGOTIATIONS STALLED – STOP – HELP BY ADVISING ON IMMIGRATION LAW RE SIAMESE SUBJECTS – STOP – HARKER – STOP
10 July, 1905 - Telegram to Mrs Harker, The Seagulls, Cliff Road, Whitby
HAVE ARRIVED SAFELY – STOP – AM IN GOOD HEALTH – STOP – HOPE TO START MY RETURN JOURNEY NEXT WEEK – STOP – LOVE JONATHAN – STOP
10 July, 1905 - The Lotus Pool in the Chao Muang’s Palace Garden - about 4 pm
After the negotiations with Minister Rattamontrii, and writing the telegrams, I decided to clear my head by taking a walk around the palace grounds. Before long, I came to a lotus pool shaded by strange trees with many roots which the Siamese call Banyan. Here I sat down - on the grass unfortunately, for the Siamese have no idea of seats or benches! It is wonderfully relaxing here. The sun is hot, but not too hot in this shade, and the water looks beautifully cool. On the water float the beautiful white lotus flowers, and the air I breathe is scented by fragrant herbs.
I had not been here long when Minister Rattamontrii appeared. He said that he had come to collect my telegrams, but that he feared that the Chao Muang would not be able to see me tomorrow either, as he was busy with matters arising from the recent death. However, he hoped to make my stay as pleasant as possible and had therefore arranged another ‘entertainment’ that evening. The thought flashed through my mind that the Chao Muang was deliberately keeping me here by prolonging our business and luring me with women, but my pleasure at the thought of the evening’s entertainment drove this train of thought from my mind for the time being.
But when the minister had gone, I tried to analyse my fears about my situation - my unease about the strangeness of the Chao Muang, his odd behaviour about my cut face, the fact that I seemed to be under guard, and the mysterious deaths of the harem girls - but the exotic perfumes, the languorous heat, and above all, the memory of Gai and Gaeo, distracted me until I fell asleep dreaming of Siamese dancing girls.
10 July, 1905 - My Room in the Chao Muang’s Palace - early hours
What a night! And to cap it all, I am back here with Dau. She is in the antechamber performing her ablutions, so I have a few minutes to catch up on the events of the evening.
Minister Rattamontrii came for me at about 8 pm and took me to the courtyard of the outer harem. Several other officials of the court were there, but there was no sign of the Chao Muang. The minister informed me that we were to witness a special performance of Siamese classical dance in which the dancers would interpret the ‘Ramakian’ epic. I was disappointed at this news, as I wanted to see the dancing girls again. However, my disappointment was short-lived. Apparently, the dancer’s costumes are made to resemble those worn in Siam in olden times, and have not changed during successive generations as they have been found most picturesque and suitable. Female costume in those days consisted of gold-hemmed pantaloons, a golden crown and collar, much jewellery - rings, armbands and the like - but nothing else! So it was back to the dancing girls again (many of them being one and the same as the girls I had seen last time) only this time they were mixed up with men in monkey-masks, warrior helmets and royal crowns.
The minister then gave me an outline of the story which the dancers were presenting. It is an ancient epic - not dissimilar in some respects to the Iliad of Homer - which tells how Pra Ram’s wife, Sita, is abducted by the giant Totsakan, after which, the monkey god, Hanuman and his monkey soldiers, go to Totsakan’s palace on the island of Lanka and fight several battles to win her back - shades of Helen of Troy - well, at least that comparison helped me to understand what was going on. Not that I really cared, I was so taken with those willowy half-naked bodies. One girl stood out from the rest in the beauty of her skin, the delicacy of her form, and the subdued lustre of her dreamy eyes. Her golden crown was taller than the other girls, and her golden collar more ornate (though I could hardly take in the collar for looking at her beautiful, heaving breasts!). Her fingernails (which were probably false) were unusually long and emphasised the backward twist of her hands. Her only garment, apart from the gold ornaments, was a pair of semi-transparent emerald green pantaloons edged with gold braid. When I asked Minister Rattamontrii about her he said that her name was Dau, which means ‘star’ - very appropriate, because she was playing the star part - Sita - the wife of Pra Ram, or as I explained it to myself - the equivalent of Helen of Troy - ‘the face that launched a thousand ships’.
The performance lasted several hours - until past midnight - during which time I got drunk on rice wine, fell asleep, woke up in time to see Sita’s trial by fire, and drank myself sober again. Then suddenly, it was all over. The dancers ran to the right and left leaving the courtyard - except one - Helen of Troy (Dau), who ran straight into my arms.
When I expressed my surprise and delight, she said, “Chao Muang say sorry he not see you, but send me to make you happy. I speak English little bit. I good girl for you.”
So once again I have good cause to be astonished at the extent of Siamese hospitality. I am weak with anticipation of the pleasures that await me, and only wish that I had not drunk so much, or that I did not feel so tired... but I hear her coming! Now is not the time for words, but for deeds, and believe me - I will perform them to the best of my ability!
© Rob 2006
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