Siam : The Land of the White Elephant as It Was and Is

by George B. Bacon

"On the morning of the 19th, the curtains of a tempestuous night having been removed, very much to our joy we found that we were in sight of our desired haven, and we enjoyed much interesting scenery while tossing about during the day. There are many bold islands in this vicinity, with rocky bases, and crowned with luxuriant vegetation. Koh Ch'ang lies fifteen or twenty miles south of us. It is a large island, with lofty peaks, and it is said to be famous for elephants and that there are several thousand souls upon it. Prit Prote are three small islands, interesting only as affording pleasant objects to the eye of the naturalist. Koh Nom Low is a very curious pinnacle near the entrance into the mouth of Chantaboun River. With a small base, it rises out of the sea probably four hundred feet. The mouth of the river is admirably guarded by an arm of a mountain ridge, which extends out into the sea and embraces the harbor, which is also artificially protected by two batteries. The coast extends east by southeast. That part of it east of the river, in the immediate vicinity of the sea, is level, low, and covered with a thick jungle. The main body of the trees appear low, having interspersed among them many tall trees, with here and there small hills, handsomely attired. Parallel with this coast, and apparently ten miles from the sea, the mountain Sal Bap towers into the clouds, and stretches a long way to the north and to the south. The coast west of the river is rugged and mountainous. In the apparent direction of the river there are several sublime peaks. As far as the eye can command, vegetation appears luxuriant, but is quite different from that of Bangkok. The cocoanut palm, which is the queen of all the jungles in that vicinity, is not to be seen here. The appearance of the water about the mouth of this river is perfectly clear, while that of the Meinam is extremely turbid."

At this point the missionaries' Siamese friend left them and proceeded in advance to Chantaboun. On the day following, November 21st, "he sent back a small junk for us, which we gladly accepted, and took passage in her, starting in the morning, and expected of course that we should arrive at our destination early in the evening. But almost every rod of our way seemed beset with extraordinary obstacles. In the first place, we had a strong contrary wind to contend with, which obliged us to beat till late in the afternoon with but little success. In the early evening the breeze became gentle, when, with great entreaty on our part, our boatmen were induced to take to their oars. Presently we found a strong current against us, and within the next half hour our boat touched the bottom of the channel and became immovable in the mud. Now it seemed certain that instead of reaching our destination early in the evening, as we had hoped, we should be under the necessity of staying aboard of our craft all night, exposed to the inclemency of the night air, and with but a scanty supply of food. It was well that we had taken a late breakfast, for a cup of tea with sea bread and cheese had to suffice both for our dinner and supper. With these we satisfied the cravings of hunger, being, I trust, thankful to God that we were so well fed. Having taken our frugal supper we sought for places to lodge ourselves for the night. As for a cabin, of course there was none in such a junk. There were holds, but they were filled with luggage. My fellow-travellers preferred to seek their rest on the open deck in a half-reclining posture, wrapped up in their cloaks. I found a place in the 'hinder part of the ship' just large enough to lie down in, where I spread my mattress and tried to sleep. About midnight the tide rose and bore our junk away from the mud. But it was only a little time when it was announced by a singular scraping on our boat's bottom, and by a tremendous scolding of a party of Chinamen whom we had met, that we had found another obstacle. It was soon revealed that we had got entangled in a fish-net belonging to the Chinamen. Here we were detained an hour or more in efforts to disengage our boat from the ropes of the fish-net. After this was done I know not what other impediments we met with, for I fell into a sleep.

"At 4 A.M. it was announced that we had arrived at our destination. We shook off our slumbers and looked out, and behold our junk was anchored in front of a house with open doors, literally, and windows without shutters, while a piercing, chilling wind was whistling through it. It proved to be, not in Chantaboun, but several miles below it at a Siamese dockyard. As all our boatmen had gone ashore, and we were left without a guide, we determined to 'stick to the ship' till full day, and accordingly lay down and took another nap. When we arose early in the morning we were surprised to learn that Luang Nai Sit and his retinue had lodged in that bleak house the night before, and had gone up the river to Chantaboun, and that this was the place he designed to have us occupy while we sojourned in this part of Siam. This house assigned to us here is situated over the water, exposed to the strong north winds that blow from the opposite side of the river. It is built of bamboo slats and small poles, so as to operate as a kind of sieve for the bleak winds. The most of the floor is also of bamboo slats, and admits strong currents of air through them, while the waves are both heard and seen dashing beneath them. The roof is made of attap leaves, which rattle like hail in the wind. The best rooms in the house, two in number, are enclosed with bamboo slats and lined with cajung. These were politely assigned to us by our kind friend, who is ever ready to deny himself to oblige us. This would be a delightfully cool place in the spring and summer months, but at this season of the year it is unpleasantly chilly.

"This place has no importance, only what is connected with the ship-building carried on here. There are now on the stocks not less than fifty vessels, consisting of two ships of three hundred or four hundred tons burden, thirty or forty war-boats or junks, and a number of smaller craft."

On the following day the missionaries made an excursion up the river as high as the p'rak'lang's establishment, where "we left our boat and proceeded by land two or three miles to Bang Ka Chah. The river up to the place where we left it is exceedingly serpentine, the banks being low and overflowed by the tides, and covered with an impenetrable jungle of low timber.

"As we drew near the p'rak'lang's there appeared pleasant fields of paddy, and at a distance a beautiful acclivity partially cleared, around which government is building extensive fortifications. The works are rapidly advancing. The circumference of the enclosure when finished will not vary much from two miles. The embankment is forty feet above the surface of the ground, and the depth of the ditch on the outside will increase it six feet. The earth is of a remarkably red color, and gives the embankment the appearance of solid brick. This is to be surrounded by a breastwork six feet high, with portholes, and made of brick literally dug out of the earth, which, a few feet from the surface, possesses the consistence of brick that had been a little dried in the sun. Blocks eighteen inches in length, nine in breadth, and six in thickness, are cut out by Chinamen and Malays, which, with a little smoothing, are prepared for laying into the wall.

"We were objects of great curiosity to the natives. Our passport was only to tell them that we came from Bangkok in Koon Sit's brig, and this was perfectly satisfactory. With the idea that Bang Ka Chah was but a little way onward, we continued to walk, being very much exhilarated by the sight of palmy plains, palmy hills and extensive rice plantations. The country appeared to have a first-rate soil, and to be very extensively cultivated. The paddy fields were heavy laden and well filled. It was harvest time. In one direction you might see reapers; in another gatherers of the sheaves; in another threshers; one with his buffaloes treading out the grain, another with his bin and rack, against which he was beating the sheaves. The lots were divided by foot-paths merely, consisting of a little ridge thrown up by the farmers.

"In Bang Ka Chah we found a settlement of four thousand or more Chinese. Our guide conducted us to a comfortable house, where, much to my comfort, we were offered a place to lie down, and presented with tea and fruit. We had not been in the place ten minutes before we had attracted around us hundreds of men, women, and children, who were as eager to examine us Americans as the latter once were to examine the Siamese twins. The inhabitants appeared remarkably healthy. I could not discover a sickly countenance among them. There were many very aged people. Children were particularly abundant and interesting. How inviting a harvest, thought I, is here for the future missionary. The houses are mostly built of brick after the common style of Chinese architecture. The streets are crooked, narrow, and filthy. At 4 o'clock, P.M., we returned to the house of Luang Nai Sit, who lives near his father, the p'rak'lang, where we were refreshed with a good dinner, after which we took to our boats and arrived at our lodgings at seven o'clock in the evening.

"We have made an excursion to the town of Chantaboun. It is about nine miles from the place where we stay, being on the main branch of the river, while Bang Ka Chah is on a smaller one. After we passed the p'rak'lang's, there was much to be seen that was in no small degree interesting. The river was from sixty to eighty yards wide, apparently deep and exceedingly serpentine. The banks were generally cleared of wild timber, gently elevated, uniformly smooth, and cultivated. As we approached Chantaboun, the margin of the river was most charmingly graced with clumps of the bamboo, and several fields were bounded with the same tree. We passed not far from the foot of the lofty mountain Sah Bap, from which point we could also see several other mountains. The top of one was lost in the clouds. Near Chantaboun the river is quite lined on one side with Siamese war-junks on the stocks. The reigning passion of the government at present is to make preparations in this section of their country for defence against the Cochin-Chinese, and for aggressions against the same if need be.

"We reached Chantaboun at 2 P.M. The natives discovering us as we drew near their place, congregated by scores on the banks of the river to look at us. They were exceedingly excited, the children particularly, and scarcely knew how to contain themselves. Some ran with all their might to proclaim in the most animated manner to the inhabitants ahead that we were coming. Others jumped up and down, laughing and hallooing most merrily. We preferred to pass up the river to the extreme end of the town before we landed, that in coming down by land we might form some estimate of the amount of the inhabitants. The town is situated on both sides of the stream, which is probably eighty yards wide. As we passed along we observed one of the most pleasant situations occupied by a Roman Catholic chapel. Its appearance, together with some peculiarities in the inhabitants, led us to think that the Catholics had got a strong foothold here. We saw only four Siamese priests and no temples. The houses on the river were built principally of bamboo and attap. They were small, elevated five or six feet above the ground, and wore the aspect of old age. The ground on which the town is situated rises gently from the river and is a dry and sandy loam. There were a number of middling-sized junks lying in the river, which proves that the stream is sufficiently deep to admit of the passage of such craft.