According to some ancient writers, the swan, dove, monkey and elephant, when white, ‘are nobler, purer creatures, reserved for the souls of the good and great in one of the stages of their soul’s transmigration’. This reverence applies particularly to the white elephant, who was regarded as nothing less than a god. And King Mongkut’s panegyric written on the death of one of them runs: ‘ … his tusks like long pearls; his ears like silver shields; his trunk like a comet’s tail; his legs like the feet of the skies; his tread like the sound of thunder; his looks full of meditation; his expression full of tenderness; his voice the voice of a mighty warrior; and his bearing that of an illustrious monarch.’
From the foregoing, it is therefore clear that a particularly flattering compliment was intended when the Chief of the Siamese Embassy returned from England and, recounting the Embassy’s reception at Court, says of Queen Victoria ‘One cannot but be struck with the aspect of the august Queen of England, or fail to observe she must be of pure descent from a race of goodly and warlike kings and rulers of the earth, in that her eyes, complexion and, above all, her bearing are those of a beautiful and majestic white elephant.’
The embassy in England was only one of many diplomatic exchanges during Mongkut’s reign, and treaties were signed with so many nations that one of his sons, Prince Damrong, declared that his sagacious father had ensured in this manner that no one power could ever become of overweening importance. But at a time when all South-East Asia had fallen beneath the domination of the Western Powers, the value of Mongkut’s adroit diplomacy cannot be over estimated. A most important treaty was with the envoy of Queen Victoria, Sir John Bowring, who arrived in Bangkok in 1855, and was agreeably surprised not only by the King’s command of English, but by the fact that quite a number of Siamese officials spoke it as well.
Sir John, who brought gifts of a diamond watch and a travelling writing-case from his Sovereign, was well received by Mongkut, seated on a richly carved throne, robed in crimson and wearing a crown glittering with diamonds and precious stones. Yet despite this splendid formality – as Bowring recounts – ‘the King offered me cigars with his own hand, while liqueurs, tea and sweetmeats were brought in.’ The Englishman was also much impressed by Mongkut’s Prime Minister, Sri Suriyawongse, whom he described as ‘a most sagacious man, towering above every person we have met… of graceful gentlemanly manners and appropriate language.’
The treaty signed in April 1855 was, in most respects, similar to those which would be made with other nations later on. It provided for the nomination of a permanent British Consul in Bangkok. Siam agreed not to impose duties on British goods at more than three per cent ad valorem and accepted British extra-territorial rights in her own sovereign territory. In addition, Britons were to be allowed to buy land within four miles of the city walls.
King Mongkut processing to Wat Phra Chetuphon for the Katin ceremony.
King Mongkut during his period in the monkhood.
Once this treaty was signed others followed with France, Napoleon III sending not only a carriage, but a pair of horses to the King; and with America, the Hanseatic League, Denmark, Portugal, Holland, Prussia, Sweden and Norway. Europeans were engaged to overhaul and reorganise government services. Learning was encouraged by the printing of books in Siamese and in English, printing presses having been introduced into Thailand by American Baptist missionaries. The King also initiated the building of ships, bridges, canals and roads, spurred on in this last by petulant complaints from more than one newly- established foreign consul, that ‘their health was suffering as they were unable to take the air in their carriages of an evening, due to the bad roads in Bangkok.’
Mongkut also travelled about his realm, sometimes on horseback, sometimes in his paddle-steamer, showing himself to his subjects whereas, before his time, it had been taboo even to look on the monarch’s countenance.
His austere, high-cheekboned face was clearly marked by his years in the monastery: remote, unsmiling, he had more the aspect of an idol than a man. Credited with an irascible temperament, he was also imperious and thought nothing of summoning to his presence, at dead of night, not only servants or courtiers, but missionaries and, on one occasion at least, the British Consul. Fetched from his bed, this official, as he hastened to the palace, revolved in his mind every combination of alarming event that could justify so untoward a command, but on arrival found the King, dictionary in hand, merely desiring his definition of a word.
Following the custom of those days, Mongkut was a polygamist; indeed he was credited with having thirty-two wives and eighty-two children. This was naturally considered extremely shocking by the missionaries, one of whom, an American named Dr Bradley, reproached the King for placing an effigy of one of his wives in a temple but was rendered speechless by the Monarch enquiring how this differed from the Albert Memorial!
Mongkut’s wives and children lived in a part of the palace – almost a small township – called not the harem but the ‘Inside’ which, far from being the scene of voluptuous debauchery, was as strictly organised as a finishing-school. Here were houses, gardens, shops, lakes and even the Inside’s own law-courts and police-station. There was a Directress, who had various officials under her and, as each Queen had her own retinue of 200 to 300 women, which was increased if she bore a child, the total population of the Inside was somewhere near three thousand. This figure also comprised, in addition to wives and minor wives, the King’s sons until they reached puberty, nurses, servants, women in charge of the King’s kitchens, and a female police-force which guarded the gates, patrolling at night with torches and, should a man be admitted for repair or construction work, remaining closely at his side until he left.
Anna Leonowens.
Mrs Leonowens, the English Governess engaged to teach the royal children in 1862, despite her strong moral disapproval of polygamy, paints a most charming picture of the ‘ladies of the harem, who amuse themselves in the early and late hours of the day, feeding birds in the aviaries and goldfish in the pond, twining garlands to adorn the heads of their children, arranging bouquets, singing songs of love or glory, dancing to the music of the guitar, listening to their slaves reading, strolling with their little ones through the parks and parterres, and especially in bathing. When the heat is least oppressive, they plunge into the waters of the pretty tiered lakes, swimming and diving like flocks of brown waterfowl.’ As well as these diversions, there were theatrical shows, marionettes, card playing, gambling on the daily lotteries, and flying kites in March and April – the kite-flying season. Fed, housed and clothed, the Queens and their ladies, free from care though close-confined, seemed even to the censorious Englishwomen like denizens of an enchanted world.
Following his success in making English the second language of Siam, Mongkut decided it was an advantage that should be offered to the Inside, together with a light dusting of educational instruction. In the newspaper The Bangkok Calendar 1859, we read: ‘His Majesty the King has requested the Protestant Missions in Bangkok to furnish a preceptress for the royal females’ and, this request being granted, ‘No small amount of knowledge on various subjects was communicated to His Majesty’s large and interesting family.’ But alas, except for a very few, ‘the royal females’ showed but little inclination or aptitude for study and it was then that the King, recognising defeat, decided that his many children might make better scholars, and engaged the aforementioned Mrs Leonowens to be their Governess. A young widow of twenty-seven, she remained in Siam for that purpose for five years and, after writing An English Governess at the Siamese Court in 1870, followed it in 1873 by Romance of a Harem. However, it was not until 1945 that a novel by Margaret Landon, Anna and the King of Siam based on both these books, became a best-seller in America and led to its transformation into the musical ‘The King and I’.