Katya & The Prince of Siam

The English Governess, generally rather sparing of praise, writes of him: ‘For a Siamese, he was a handsome lad … figure symmetrical and compact. He was, moreover, modest and affectionate, eager to learn. He was attentive to his studies, serene and gentle, invariably affectionate to his old aunt and his younger brothers and, for the poor, ever sympathetic with a warm generous heart. He pursued his studies assiduously … with a resolution that gained strength as his mind gained ideas …’ In person, Chulalongkorn resembled his father not at all, for his countenance was markedly open with a fine brow, a most engaging smile, and despite his lofty position, a charming simplicity of manner that endeared him to many, not only in his own country, but also abroad.

The Regent, although always present, had the great good sense to encourage Chulalongkorn to attend cabinet meetings, preside at religious ceremonies and give audiences from the first, so that, long before attaining his majority, he became well versed in the arts of government. He had also had the advantage of a grounding in diplomacy and state affairs by his father, who had freely admitted him into his confidence despite his extreme youth.

When he was eighteen, Chulalongkorn pressed the Regent to grant fulfilment of Mongkut’s known wish that a return visit should be paid to Sir Harry Orde, Governor of Singapore, and the young Prince went there in 1871, following it by a trip to Java. Later that same year, he travelled to India, where he was well-received by the Viceroy, Lord Mayo, and returned home gratified by his reception in all three countries.

In 1873, when he was twenty, after only a token fifteen days in the priesthood, his coronation took place amidst scenes of great splendour. As was the custom, he himself placed the crown upon his head, thus signifying that no-one of superior or even equal rank existed worthy to perform this ceremony for the King. Robed and crowned, the Monarch addressed the prostrate throng from his throne: ‘His Majesty has noticed that the great countries and powers in Asia where oppression existed, compelling inferiors to prostrate and worship their masters, have ceased these customs … They have done so to make manifest there shall be no more oppression. Those that have abolished these rigorous exactions have manifestly increased their prosperity … His Majesty therefore proposes to substitute, in place of crouching and crawling on all-fours, standing upright with a graceful bow of the head …’

At his words, all present rose to their feet and, drawing themselves erect before their sovereign for the first time, they made profound obeisance. As Prince Damrong wrote: ‘It was indeed a most impressive and memorable sight.’

Aided by his Prime Minister, the young King, from the first, devoted himself energetically to further reforms, undertaken not only for their own sake but because he was convinced that his father had been right and that only by bringing Siam more into line with the modern world could he secure her continuing independence and freedom from further annexation and colonisation by the French or British. Nothing escaped his attention, from organising and enlarging the army, to improving postal and telegraph services, inaugurating railways, building palaces and laying out tree-lined boulevards bordered by cooling waterways in Bangkok.

‘All children, from my own to the poorest, should have an equal chance of education’, he announced when opening the Suan Khularb School, the first of many new secondary schools. He also determined that nobles and princes should be better instructed and founded a college for them in the palace itself.

Public health was not neglected and, in 1886, the first experimental hospital was opened under the supervision of an American doctor, Peter Cowan. But at first the hospital, though in full working order, was deficient in one respect – there were no patients! People still preferred their traditional remedies. In despair, Dr Cowan suggested filling the empty beds with beggars, whose sores and diseases he guaranteed to cure. But the beggars rejected the offer out of hand, claiming indignantly that a cure would deprive them of their livelihood. Eventually, members of the Hospital Committee were driven to order those of their servants who were ailing into the hospital and, when they emerged the better for treatment, general confidence was gained and there was soon a waiting list of patients.