In the empire of Siam, and its dependent kingdoms, Laos and Cambodia, we find the principle of the duplex rule which we have already seen existing in Japan, though in these cases the distinction between the two kings is merely one of dignity, and has nothing to do with the secular and spiritual element, as in Japan. In Siam, the two kings are mostly near relations, and often brothers; and sometimes, though by no means as a rule, the Second King becomes First King on the death of his superior. Practically, the whole of the royal power is vested in the first King, the secondary ruler being, although enjoying royal rank, nothing more than the first subject in the land.
In China and Japan, the personal character of the king seems to exercise but little influence over the people. This is not the case with Siam, in which country the influence of the king pervades the whole of the realm, and is of infinite importance for good or evil. The Siamese have been very fortunate in the king who lately held the First Throne. As is the custom with the Siamese kings, he spent a series of years in a Buddhist monastery, secluding himself from all society, even from that of his own children. During twenty-seven years he devoted himself to the studies which he thought would fit him for his future office; and when he mounted the throne in 1851, being then about forty-seven years of age, he astonished every one by his learning. He had made himself master of the history and geography of his own country; he was good enough astronomer to calculate eclipses, and determine the latitude and longitude of a place. He could speak and write English so well, that he was a valued contributor to the scientific journals of Hong Kong, and, on account of his writings, was elected a member of the Asiatic Society. He was a fair Latin and French scholar, was thoroughly acquainted with all the various dialects of Siam and Indo-China, and was also learned in Sanscrit, a language of which he was very fond.
He was always desirous of attracting to him any English people who could give him instruction, and showed his preference for Great Britain by invariably wearing a Glengary cap, except on occasions of ceremony, when he had to wear the heavy national crown; and, strange to say, to judge from several photographic portraits of the King in various costumes, the Glengary cap suits his countenance better than any other headdress. The full Siamese name of the King was Phra Chomklau chau yu hua; but the Sanscrit form, which he always used, was Somdetch Phra Paramendra Maha Mongkut. He generally signed his name as S. P. P. M. Mongkut. His name before he came to the throne was Chau Fa Yai. The death of this wise ruler and accomplished gentleman was a very severe loss to Siam, and was felt even among the scientific societies of Europe.
A [portrait] of this remarkable man is given on the 1469th page, dressed in the costume which he usually wore. The Glengary cap gives a curiously Europeanized look to his face; but as, contrary to the habit of the bare-headed Siamese, he constantly wore it, he is drawn with it upon his head. I possess portraits of him in several dresses, but that which he generally wore is selected as being the most characteristic of the man.
His brother, Chau Fa Noi, was by universal consent made the Second King, or Wanqua. When he received the crown, he took the name of Somdetch Piu Klau Chau yu hua. The choice was in both cases an excellent one, the brothers resembling each other in their love of literature, and their anxiety to promote the welfare of their people by the arts of peace, and not of war.
We will now turn to the general appearance of the Siamese.
They are rather small, but well proportioned, and their color is a warm olive. The hair of the men is shaved, except a tuft upon the top of the head, which is kept rather short; and the hair being black and coarse, the tuft looks as if a short brush had been stuck on the head. According to Siamese ideas, the tuft resembles the closed lotus flower. This tuft is held in the highest esteem; and for any one even to give indications of approaching the head-tuft of a great man, is considered either as a deadly insult or a mark of utter ignorance of manners. When a young Siamese comes of age, the head-tuft is shaved with great ceremonies, the relations being called together, priests being invited to recite prayers and wash the head of the young man, and all the family resources being drawn upon for the feast. The exact moment of the shaving is announced by a musket shot. After the tuft is removed, the lad is sent to the pagodas to be taught by the priests, and many of them never leave these quiet retreats, but enter the ranks of the regular priesthood.
Even the women wear the hair-tuft, but in their case the hair is allowed to grow to a greater length, and is carefully oiled and tended. The woman’s head-tuft is said to represent the lotus flower opened. The head is seldom covered, the cap worn by King S. Phra Mongkut being quite an exceptional instance. As for clothing, the Siamese care but little for it, though the great people wear the most costly robes on state occasions. But even the highest mandarins content themselves during the warmer months of the year with the single garment called the Pa-nung. This is a wide strip of strong Indian chintz, generally having a pattern of stars upon a ground of dark blue, green, red or chocolate. When worn, “the Siamese place the middle of this, when opened, to the small of the back, bringing the two ends round the body before, and the upper edges, being twisted together, are tucked in between the body and the cloth. The part hanging is folded in large plaits, passed between the legs, and tucked in behind as before.” (See Bowring’s “Kingdom and People of Siam.”)
Sometimes the men have a white cloth hanging loosely over their shoulders, and occasionally throw it over their heads. When walking in the open air, a broad palm-leaf hat is used to keep off the sunbeams, and is worn by both sexes alike.
There is very little difference in the dress of the sexes. When very young, girls wear a light and airy costume of turmeric powder, which gives them a rich yellow hue, and imparts its color to everything with which they come in contact. Up to the age of ten or eleven, they generally wear a slight gold or silver string round the waist, from the centre of which depends a heart-shaped piece of the same metal, and, when they reach adult years, they assume the regular woman’s dress. This consists of the chintz or figured silk wrapper, which, however, falls little below the knees, and a piece of lighter stuff thrown over one shoulder and under the other. This latter article of dress is, however, of little importance, and, even when used, it often falls off the shoulder, and is not replaced. Even the Queen of Siam, when in state dress, wears nothing but these two garments. As a rule, the feet are bare, embroidered slippers being only occasionally used by great people.