By now it was nine o’clock on a dark moonless night, and the procession passing through line upon line of kneeling or prostrate mourners was, as Dr Malcolm Smith described it ‘an unforgettable sight … First of all came the master musicians, a piper, a drummer and then two drums so large that each was carried by two men and beaten by a third. They beat upon them softly … and the sound was like the rumblings of distant thunder. Then followed the ancient bodyguard in double file, carrying lighted candles. Between them walked a single file of men, who bore long double-faced drums, some painted silver, others gold. These were the drums of victory, reserved for kings and princes. They herald them into this world, they accompany them in their ceremonial processions through life and they follow them on their last journey. After the drums came the urn set on its palanquin and carried by sixty men. Immediately behind followed the male members of the Royal Family headed by the new King … the only light, the flickering candles of the bodyguard, the only sound the soft throb of the drums and lament of the pipes …’
So died a great king. Dynamic, with remarkable breadth of insight and vision, he possessed also the rare wisdom not to impose too rapidly the modernisation he saw as essential, but to edge Siam towards it gradually while never losing hold of the values, customs, – even superstitions, – that nourish a country’s roots in the rich soil of its past. Typical of his instinctive understanding of the age-old traditions of respect in Siam was the occasion at his coronation when, having abolished prostration and crawling, he immediately substituted a ‘low bow’ to replace them. His achievements were stupendous: the abolition of slavery, the reorganisation of the army, navy and civil service, the foundation of schools, universities and hospitals; the establishment of a respected foreign policy; and the laying-out of Bangkok into a city of tree-lined avenues, parks and palaces. To this day all bear witness to an active mind and heart working together in harmony. As his grandson, Prince Chula, wrote: ‘He had a dignified, graceful yet modest personality and will certainly go down in history … as great among kings of any country in the world.’
Queen Saowabha, her five sons and grandson in mourning for King Chulalongkorn. Back row: Prince Asdang, King Vajiravudh, Queen Saowabha and Prince Chakrabongse. Front row: Prince Chudhaduj, Prince Chula and Prince Prajadhipok.
Katya’s more immediate reflections on the King’s death, recorded in a letter to her brother, are particularly poignant. At the time, she and Chakrabongse had been planning a trip to Russia en route for the coronation of George V and at recent royal ceremonies it had been intimated that on their return from such a trip, the King would certainly have received her at last.
‘I felt as if I was paralysed when I heard the news of this terrible and sudden loss. At first I tried to do my best to help Lek because his grief seemed unending. He was crying like a child because he adored his father. Later I completely lost my appetite and this lasted for a week. I lost weight and became pale. I stayed in bed and tried not to think about anything. I am sure you will understand, as now the fact that the King did not accept me will last forever. This is very hard for me to bear, even though later he had a better opinion of me. However good my life is in the next reign, the thought that the King died without ever knowing me destroys me. He died just at the moment when everything was starting to go well. He had begun to love Nou. I must live just for the present and I have to do it, but I had not anticipated the King’s death and how much it would affect me.
‘Lek has been appointed Crown Prince for the time being because the King (Vajiravudh) is unmarried and has no heirs. However he has refused to accept any titles saying that if the King has a son he doesn’t then want to be stripped of them all again. In addition, he has been appointed general commander of his late Majesty’s Royal regiment which previously had been under the command of the Crown Prince. He has a lot of ceremonies, meetings and visits to his mother and I see him even less than I did before.’
VII
A New Reign - Rama VI
Certificate from King Rama VI appointing Katya to the most illustrious Order of Chulachomklao First Class.
As well as making his younger brother, Chakrabongse, heir-apparent, King Vajiravudh, who styled himself Rama VI, promoted him to the rank of Lieutenant-General and Acting-Chief of the General Staff. He was, although holding no ministerial portfolio, required to attend Cabinet meetings, where his opinions and advice were highly regarded. His son was recognised as a Royal Highness, and the King decreed he should be named Chula Chakrabongse.
Katya, who from the first had been known as ‘Mom Katerin’ – ‘Mom’ meaning the wife of a prince who is not of royal birth – was now officially recognised as Chakrabongse’s consort by the new Sovereign, who also invested her with the order of the Chulachomklao.
Thus the new reign opened auspiciously for Chakrabongse and Katya, and in addition to many official duties, they took an active part in the lively social life of Bangkok, which included keeping open house at Paruskavan, where places were seldom laid at their hospitable table for less than twelve and often for twenty or more.
Two Russian chefs with Chinese assistants, presided in the European kitchen, and a band of women prepared Siamese dishes at a distance from the main house so that odours however appetising, did not offend before the meal was served. The food was particularly delicious for, as well may be imagined, the numerous chefs and cooks vied with one another in the creation of tempting menus. These usually consisted of at least three courses of European dishes followed by delicately spiced Siamese specialities and ended with ices and fresh fruit elaborately carved into imitation miniature fruits, flowers and animals in a manner still common in Thailand today.
Servants at Paruskavan Palace.
Although servants abounded, fulfilling every wish almost before it was uttered, Katya – unlike her lackadaisical mother – took a keen interest in the running of her household. And being like her late father-in-law, Chulalongkorn, a lover of good food and an excellent cook, she soon added many Siamese recipes to her repertoire of traditional Russian dishes.
She also made good use of her professional nursing experience in the Russo-Japanese War, for not a day passed without a visit from her to the staff quarters to advise and care for any of the servants who were ill or ailing. In consequence the staff at Paruskavan grew not only to depend on her for medical attention, but to regard her with grateful affection, and shared her distress when a Russian cook she had earnestly tried to cure of drunkenness reeled into an ornamental lake and drowned among the lotus.
With the assistance of every kind of skilled craftsman, she had also re-arranged and redecorated Paruskavan which was a happy combination of comfortable Western-style sofas and armchairs, covered in flowery chintzes, Chakri family portraits, inlaid mother-of-pearl Siamese tables and red and gold lacquer cabinets filled with curios and shells she had collected on trips to the beach. Similarly Katya would sometimes wear Siamese dress and sometimes fashionable European clothes and, whichever she wears in photographs taken at this time, her attractive generous smile is much in evidence.