Katya & The Prince of Siam

Although she had virtually withdrawn from the world since Chulalongkorn died in 1910, the death of this lively, volatile and dictatorial, lady removed the focal point of existence from her sons, grandson and relations, as she had exerted a power akin to that of a revered image in a temple, always to be found and bowed down to in the same place.

In addition to the prolonged strain of the funeral rites, other tensions made themselves felt among the royal mourners. For as well as relations being at a low ebb between the King and Chakrabongse, there were also rumours of plots against the King, whose unpopularity had been growing.

Together with three other generals, Chakrabongse, at this time, had become president of a committee established to work on a scheme for retiring a number of inefficient senior officers. Even before the committee had published its findings he had received an anonymous letter stating that as his loyalty to the King was unquestioned, he himself was to be removed before the King was also put out of the way. The letter obligingly named the officer entrusted with poisoning him.

Convinced that this letter was an angry response to his retirement scheme, Chakrabongse boldly sent a copy of it to the officer in question with his compliments! However, despite this stylish gesture, the atmosphere of hatred and suspicion engendered by such sinister threats, his profound grief at his mother’s death, combined with his usual load of work and responsibilities, began to overwhelm him. Eventually he was driven to request leave from the King to take an extended holiday.

This being granted, he set about organising a leisurely trip by boat to Singapore, to be followed by a return train journey up the Malay Peninsular to end in the peace of familiar surroundings at Hua Hin. With respite from his arduous life in sight, he dealt with a lighter heart with his remaining commitments and engagements before he departed. One of these was a military dinner in honour of a visiting British General at the Ministry of Defence, an elegant colonial style building just opposite the Grand Palace. Not only Chakrabongse, but the three other Generals concerned with him in the officers’ retirement plan were present. The evening seems to have been routine and unmemorable, although later it would be recalled that there was a brief failure of electricity, which plunged the room in darkness for a few minutes.

On 4th June, Chakrabongse and his aide-de-camp, Chavalit and his son, set out for Singapore on the Katong

, owned by the Straits Steamship Company. Despite torrential rain, the little party was in holiday mood, and Chakrabongse, in particular, although he got a soaking walking from his car to the ship, stood about chatting cheerfully to relations and friends who had come to see him off.

However, by the next afternoon, he had developed a feverish cold and decided to stay in his bunk. Chula was much perturbed, for his father had a soldierly disregard for physical ills, and the boy feared he must be really unwell to retire in this way. Unfortunately, Chavalit, in her heedless manner, did not share his concern. Only seventeen, and extremely immature, she repeatedly urged Chakrabongse to get up and come on deck, saying the fresh air would do him good. This he eventually did on the day before the ship reached Singapore, though by then he had a painful cough. No one could gainsay him, however, certainly not his anxious son. Not only was he unaccustomed to giving in to illness, but, as the lover of a young girl twenty years his junior, was probably determined to appear strong and youthful in her eyes.

Even so, when they reached their hotel in Singapore on 8th June, he felt so exhausted that he sent Chula and Chavalit for a drive around the town, saying that he hoped to feel better by lunch time. When they returned he felt, if anything, worse and kept to his bed. It so happened that a millionaire Chinese merchant, a resident of Singapore who knew Chakrabongse through business dealings in Bangkok, called to see him. Finding him so unwell, he instantly proposed that he and his party would be more comfortable at his house, whence they gratefully removed.

An English doctor was summoned, who diagnosed Spanish influenza. This was a particularly virulent form of the complaint that swept the world after the First World War, and was responsible for many deaths. Unfortunately it was complicated by double pneumonia in Chakrabongse’s case. On hearing this, the aide-de-camp, now thoroughly alarmed, sent telegrams to the King and Ministry of War while poor Chakrabongse, only 37, dictated a farewell letter to his brother Vajiravudh and a new will, both of which he managed to sign, albeit barely legibly. Having thus tacitly recognised his serious condition, he appeared relieved and joked and laughed almost naturally, but by the following day he was completely delirious.