The Chakri Dynasty: The Legend of the Mother Earth of Siam

By Asjarin Leonowens

It is the mid-1800s in Siam as King Mongkut busies himself creating children with his many wives. Out of his eighty-four offspring, Prince Damrong is the most intelligent and charming. Known as the kings jewel, Damrong is already being groomed for greatness.

Meanwhile, his older brother, Prince Chaiya, is battling with his greedy and repulsive head wife, Mom-Yai. Prince Sapasart is battling with his head wife, MC Mouse, who is using his four-year-old son, Tong-Jue, as ammunition in achieving what she wants in life. Finally after Sapasart convinces another female family memberwho is battling her own internal demonsto take his son in as her own, sparks fly as the princes lives collide in a new twisted battle of the sexes. But little do they know that their challenges are just beginning.

In this historical tale, two princes set off a chain of unfortunate events within their dynasty after they are led in different directions and to new destinies during the early nineteenth century.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781532019951

Asjarin Leonowens

Asjarin Leonowens is the great-greatgranddaughter of Anna Leonowens, the famous author of The English Governess at the Siamese Court and the Siamese Harlem Life. She holds a bachelor’s degree in architecture from Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok, Thailand, and a master’s degree from the University of California, Los Angeles. The mother of two sons is now retired and lives with her husband in Garden Grove, California.

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Copyright © 2017 Asjarin Leonowens.

Author Credits: Asjarin Patanangkura

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-5320-1994-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-1995-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017904570

iUniverse rev. date: 04/17/2017

To Arthiti and Methus

CONTENTS

Preface

Acknowledgments

Introduction

Chapter 1 E-Pun

Chapter 2 Prince Chaiya

Chapter 3 Prai

Chapter 4 Of All The Princes

Chapter 5 Tas

Chapter 6 The Monsoon

Chapter 7 The Morning After

Chapter 8 The Father Substitute

Chapter 9 To The Rescue

Chapter 10 What Is Love?

Chapter 11 The Rumors

Chapter 12 Prince Prajuck

Chapter 13 The Firewood

Chapter 14 The Karma

Chapter 15 Reward And Punishment

Chapter 16 The First Kindergarten

Chapter 17 The Minister Of Interior

Chapter 18 The Twins

Chapter 19 Three Guardian Angels

Chapter 20 Chao Phya Maha Yotha

Chapter 21 Nothing To Wear

Chapter 22 King Pin Klaw

Chapter 23 Princess Sunatda

Chapter 24 The King’s Testimony

Chapter 25 Princess’s Bundle

Chapter 26 Wang-Tha-Pra

Chapter 27 U-Dearn

Chapter 28 Louis Leonowens

Chapter 29 Lady Thiang

Chapter 30 Mom-Pun’s Real Name

Chapter 31 The Luncheon

Chapter 32 After The Jailbreak

Chapter 33 The Flute Player

Chapter 34 Wang-Na

Chapter 35 Disasters

Chapter 36 Paw Yai

Chapter 37 Confession

Chapter 38 The Orphans

Chapter 39 Tong-Jue

Chapter 40 E-Nue Is Sold

Chapter 41 The New Concubine

Chapter 42 Nai Boon And Manorah

Chapter 43 The Model

Chapter 44 The Middle Man

Chapter 45 Mom-Punarai

Chapter 46 Surprise!

Chapter 47 Family Reunion

Chapter 48 The Wedding

Chapter 49 The Tree Of Love

Chapter 50 Let’s Be Friends

Chapter 51 Paklat

Chapter 52 Seasick, Lovesick

Chapter 53 The Watchdog

Chapter 54 Kept Busy

Chapter 55 In Front Of The Buddha

Chapter 56 The Accident

Chapter 57 Death Of The Boy Twin

Chapter 58 Prince Pin Kaew

Chapter 59 The Money Bag

Chapter 60 The Mother Earth Project

PREFACE

I would like to translate one of the lectures that HRH Damrong-Raja Nubab gave when he addressed the elder teachers on October 8, 1929 (on that day King Rama VII was presented). It was about the style of the former government of Siam. His address is the preface of this book.

Dear audience,

Whenever you go to the temple for the priest’s preaching, he sits on the podium and begs your forgiveness. Forgiveness for mistranslating or not clearly understanding the complicated Buddhist doctrines. He asks forgiveness as a person whose lack of intelligence needs to be improved.

My fellow laymen never do that. We get on the podium and brag about how much we know. As for me, I would like to use the style of the priest in that I beg your forgiveness. The lecture which I will give today is history, which happened more than a hundred years before I was born. Even though I’ve done my research, with my meager knowledge about the details it’s impossible not to miss many important facts.

In order to tell history or legend, the priest starts with the word kira, which means It was heard through word of mouth through generations this way. Then the priest preaches what he believes is true, derived from what he had gotten from reliable sources. Most of the Buddhist dharmas were transferred this way, by word of mouth, through twenty-five centuries.

The most important responsibility of the history teller is to present the story as the truth and to show proof to help the audience believe it. Thus the listeners have a chance to hear all the facts and to digest them. Some may find more fact, do more research, and correct the misunderstandings. And so history or legend becomes history without any doubt.

This statement was my intention for this book. I had heard these stories since I was five years old, and I started to write them in 1993. These are the stories my grandmother (MC Paad-Rojana Chayangkura) told to me about her life.

The stories I wrote may have sometimes lapped because they preceded my grandmother by thirty years. The stories are true—aided by my imagination, as I did not want to create just another history book. I would compare it to the water hyacinth without polluted water to float upon.

Asjarin Leonowens

Santa Ana, California

April 28, 1994

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

In memory of

MC Paad Chayangkura Leonowens and

Dr. Amnouy Edward Leonowens Patanangkura.

Special thanks to

MC Wieng-Wattana Chayangkura,

Naval Admiral Plung Smitamek,

Mrs. Srinuj Pongsawasdi, and

Mrs. Noi and Mr. Samrong Charutawat,

for their valuable ideas, contacts, and help with the background materials.

I owe a big debt to Fred A. Nelson for his patience, perseverance, suggestions, and superb editing and direction.

INTRODUCTION

Chakri Dynasty is the current ruling royal house of the kingdom of Thailand, while the head of the house is the monarch. The dynasty has ruled Thailand since 1782. The royal house was founded by the king Rama I.

Prior to the founding of the dynasty, King Rama I held for years the title Chakri. The emblem of the dynasty is composed of the discus (chakra) and the trident (trisula), the celestial weapons of god Vishnu-Shiva, of whom the sovereign is seen as an incarnation.

Chulalongkorn(Rama V) ascended the throne as a minor at age 15 in 1868. In 1867 slaves accounted for one-third of the Siamese population. He was a King of Siam on 16 November 1873. As a prince, he had been tutored in Western traditions by the governess, Anna Leonowens. During his minority he traveled extensively to observe western administrative methods. He transformed the monarchy along western lines of an enlightened ruler. He abolished the practice of prostration in front of the monarch, and repealed many laws concerning the relationship between the monarch and his people. In 1874, he created a privy council copied from the European tradition, to help him rule his kingdom. In 1905, 37 years after his coronation, Chulalongkorn ended slavery with the Slave Abolition Act.(1)

The current head of the house is King Maha Vajiralongkorn, who was proclaimed king on December 1, 2016, but who has actually reigned retroactively since October 13, 2016, after the death of King Bhumibol Adulyadej. The house’s current dynastic seat is the Grand Palace in Bangkok.

References:

—

(1) Wales, H.G. Quaritch (14 April 2005)(First published in 1931). Chapter IV the kingship. Siamese State ceremonies(digital ed.)London, p.32. Retrived 25 April 2012.

The Second King’s letter to Sir John Bowring

Pin%20Klaw%20letter.jpg

The King Pin Klaw letter signed dated April 7th 1855. From the Kingdom and People of Siam by Sir John Bowring F.R.S. and from the book Chau Fa Chuthamani, King Pin Klaw Chau yu hua by S.Plynoi, Bangkok, printed by Romsarn Ltd., 1977, second edition, 1993, page 61.

1

E-PUN

It was the year of the Rooster, AD 1897, and His Majesty King Chulalongkorn, Rama V, was making a leisurely inspection of the offerings that had been placed on the floor of the Hall of Reception for him. An old guardian was forcing a young girl to lie on the floor among the other offerings. She lay in the midst of bales of silk—very beautiful silk, from up north—and many other goods that could not be found in Bangkok.

The girl’s old guardian made his presentation to the king. In a strong voice, he informed the king that she was twelve years old, had just had her tonsure (puberty ceremony of cutting off hair knot), and had not had her period yet. Those were the requirements of the time. Some girls were only five or six years old when they were presented to the king, so as to be sure of their virginity and prepuberty.

There were many other men crouching on the floor nearby; they were looking with pity at the pale, almost yellowish-white skin of the tiny little girl. Her arms were too long and sticklike. She was crying her heart out, and her face was all smeared with tears and dust.

The way in which the king spoke to the first old man seemed to indicate that he knew him well. The king accepted the girl without looking at her face or inspecting the betrothal offerings. Very well. I will save her for one of my sons who are now studying in Europe. The king clapped his hands, and several women of the harem appeared. Put her in the back room until I decide what to do with her.

The girl’s guardian bowed onto the floor and then crawled backward out of the room. The presentation had been accomplished.

The king had been extremely busy with reform decrees. They had modernized the judiciary, the state finances, and the political structure. He had announced the abolition of the ancient practice of prostrating before the monarch, which he regarded as unsuitable for a modern nation. However, the populace continued the practice, except in the presence of Westerners.

The reforms had provoked a revolt by the conservatives under Prince Wichaichan, Wang Na V, and Kralahome (also called Chao Phya Maha Sri Suriyawongs and formerly named Chuang Bun-Nak). He was the same Kralahome who was portrayed in Margaret Landon’s story Anna and the King of Siam.

After a long day of meetings with cabinet members and princes, the king retired to the inner chamber of the royal palace. He prepared himself for more relaxing at the new palace at Suan Dusit.

HRH Prince Pongsa-Disorn-Mahip (also named Prince Chaiyanuchit and Prince Chaiya) came out onto the royal grounds to greet the king. The prince was the head of the Royal Guards Troop Number 2. He had been tutored at Wang-Na and at Ban-Chang-Law, which was the village of the blacksmiths and sculptors. He had been trained there instead of the Royal palace (Middle palace) because of the second king, Pra Pin Klaw.

The second king was the only brother of King Mongkut, Rama IV (they had the same mother), and it was he who had hired the English officer Captain Knox. The captain later became the consul general and married a Siamese woman named Prang, and they produced two daughters, Fannie and Caroline Isabella, and a son, Spencer.

After the 1874 revolt had failed, Prince Chaiya had escaped by crossing the Chao Phya River, and he settled in Wang-Lang. He then trained in Ban-Chang-Law. This village had its start in the year after the Burmese totally burned the old capital, Ayutthaya, in 1767. King Rama I had brought his best sword fighters and blacksmiths to create armaments for him. They fashioned the best lances, arrows, and a wide variety of Western-type swords. Their bronze firearms were similar to mortars; they created fireworks displays when fired.

King Mongkut had ten children by Lady Thiang. This was more births with the same wife than any other previous king of Siam. She had become his head wife and most favorite after the death of Queen Rampoei in 1860. She was a commoner, which prevented her from being officially crowned as queen. She remembered the sequence of births as follows:

1. Princess Somawadi, born 1852. She became Anna’s favorite pupil.

2. Prince Savet, died at age two.

3. Princess Srinak-Sawas.

4. Prince Komlas.

5. Princess Kanokwan-Leka.

6. Princess, died after eight days.

7. Prince Chaiyanuchit, born 1861.

8. Princess Kaekai-Duang.

9. Prince Charoon, died after nine days.

10. Princess Pong-Soy-Sa-Ang, born 1866. After eighty-four years, she died in 1950.

When the king saw his half brother, he remembered that Prince Chaiya had asked him several days earlier for a babysitter. Prince Chaiya had just had a new baby girl and was short of help. He had asked the king to spare some of the ladies-in-waiting or nurses from the Suan Dusit. The king had promised some help, but he had forgotten it until his half brother had arrived.

Turning to the prince, he said, Oh, Chaiya, I have found a babysitter for you. The prince bowed his head gallantly with silent gratitude. Come over here! I think they have brought her to this chamber.

The king proceeded to talk about business while leading the way. They reached a small study, which was a reading room with a long, narrow double window; it was ornate, with gold leaves plus colored glass mosaics that had been cut into little square pieces.

At the bench under the window sat a tiny little girl in an old-fashioned Siamese-style dress called a jong. It had a piece of cloth wrapped around the waist, which hung down between the legs. Usually this outfit had a golden belt wrapped around all the cloth at the waist. Appropriately a girl of this age would have a round tank top, gathered around the neckline, and with short sleeves.

Is this the one, Sire? the prince asked in amazement.

Yes, I just accepted her this morning and don’t know what to do with her. She is too young to be my daughter. Perhaps, when my other sons return from Europe … The king continued speaking as the prince bowed to him. She can take care of your daughter. Just cradling the baby around. She could do that.

Not wanting to waste time, the king walked away. His thoughts were already dwelling upon how busy he was that year. Preparations were being made for his April visit to Tsar Nicolas II of Russia, with whom the king was eager to discuss his worries. France and England were upsetting him, for each was trying to get a piece of Siam.

Prince Chaiya had no choice now but to take the little girl to Wang-Lang, which was across the river from the grand palace. Scrutinizing this girl once they were in the ferry, he could see how spindly her arms were. Yet her face might be pretty, if she washed and cleaned it. Now both cheeks were smeared with tears, dirt, and dust. She wore no jewelry, which was unusual, as all girls were supposed to look rich and pretty. Those who had presented her to the king should have used all their resources of art to enhance her natural charms.

The ferryman seemed to be sweating massively from every pore of his body as he rowed the ferry across the Chao Phya River. The prince sat stiffly next to his cargo, a small lump of a girl. He lazily amused himself by recreating scenarios from the past. His gaze stopped briefly on the rower’s leg as it braced the oar, but he rejected that scenario as uninteresting. He observed naked brown children splashing, laughing, and shouting along the river’s edge. It was a scene that had not changed through the ages. The sun glinted from one wet body to the next. The heat was becoming more than the prince could endure in his full uniform. So, with great relief, he unbuttoned his high-necked coat and loosened his sword belt.

His actions frightened the girl. What was he preparing to do? Her mind raced through a variety of scenes. She was in a little ferryboat crossing the wide river—with a man! Alone! Without guardians, maids or parents! She wanted to appear happy for her new owner, but she was feeling very sad, and she continued crying.

Prince Chaiya appeared irritated as he handed his muslin handkerchief to her. Here! Wipe your face. Don’t cry. I am not going to kill you. I want you to be a sitter for my baby.

She rejected the offered muslin and resumed her crying.

He shrugged his shoulder as he returned the handkerchief to a pocket. His gaze followed the hopping ferryman as the boat docked at the arched pavilion of Wang-Lang(Back Palace).

The arch led onto the waiting area, which was a long pavilion open on all four sides, with marble benches on two of the sides. The granite corridor walkways were wide enough for two people to walk past each other easily. There were concrete stairs exiting the water, which had become exposed with the low tide. This was the personal ferryboat landing of the Back Palace.

As their party reached the crest of the pavilion, the heavy, sweet smell of cut grass wafted over them. The gardeners had left piles of hay. The verdant grass was still soft with moisture from that afternoon’s watering. Their group slowly followed the stone walkway along the north side of the lawn and then around a lawn as large as a soccer field.

Pun mechanically followed the tall, handsome officer. She felt as if she were following her own father at their home further north. Her father was just as tall as this prince but looked younger. As the group approached the front door, the dense hibiscus hid their presence; it was taller than they were.

The prince knocked at the double arched gates, which looked ancient, built of sturdy wood and iron hinges. A small portion of one gate opened to admit the travelers. A Sikh watchman, dressed in white and topped with a smart turban, attended to them. After taking the royal’s hat and sword, he bowed and then closed the door.

The prince asked the watchman, Where is Mae Prom? Mae was the respectable title for Mother.

She is in her house, Sire. She is lying down, Sire. He bowed and left the area.

Prince Chaiya and his cargo did not go directly to the front brick building but instead took a leisurely walk amongst the many finely manicured small lawns leading to the back of it. Many gray buildings lined the pathway, each surrounded by a second-story veranda that jutted out over the first floor. Heavy wooden trusses supported the verandas and were topped with hip roofs. These very steep roofs consisted of red tiles imported from China that had weathered through the years with black mold.

Wide eaves overhung the houses, to exclude both the sun and the rains. At ceiling level were fringes of lacy gingerbread to further screen out the sun. All of the buildings in this palace had once been extremely fine.

Pun was amazed by the wide variety of fruit trees she encountered. There were mango, lychee, longan, pomelo, mangosteen … and many more. They were so huge and tall. She thought how hard it must be to pick their fruits. She guessed that this palace must have once been a fruit orchard.

The walkways on the south side of the mansion led to some two-storied houses in the distance, each floor, again, with its own veranda. Pun thought that these had to be much older than those styles she had seen in Bangkok. This was Dhonburi, the twin city of Bangkok.

The prince entered the south building and spoke briefly with a lady, who tried to get up to receive him. He waved his hand at Pun to come inside. Here, she is all yours, Prom. He then sat cross-legged on the floor.

Pun watched Mom-Prom lying on the mat with a small baby by her side. She had a kind face, which was beautiful and very pale.

What is your name, my dear? Mom-Prom asked.

Pun—just Pun, was Pun’s answer.

E-Pun, can you hold the baby? E in old Thai meant miss or woman, while I meant mister.

Yes, I like babies. She smiled, dirty face and all.

You must shower first! Just look at your hands and face. Mom-Prom told her where to go to find E-Nue. She is your age, so you can wear her clothes.

Pun cautiously left the room to search for E-Nue in another building. She passed many girls coming from the back fruit yard. The eldest one looked very Chinese; her long, white face was peppered with freckles. Two girls and a young boy followed her. She stopped so suddenly that she startled Pun. What are you doing in here?

I am looking for E-Nue. Do you know where I can find her?

The children who had gathered around Pun all laughed. You’re talking to her, said the six-year-old.

Shuh, you should not tell her so soon, E-Nue reprimanded the girl. What do you want? she asked authoritatively.

Mom-Prom told me to find you. I need to take a shower and get new clothes. I am the new babysitter, Pun said softly.

Why didn’t you say so? Follow me, she instructed as she led Pun to a little shack. It had a big Alibaba water jar to one side, a hole in the ground at its center, and a wooden stool on top of the hole.

Pun began her bathing by cutting in half the lumpy lime, and then she washed her hair and body with the pieces. The water in the jug was for washing as well as for drinking.

"Here is your jong and top." E-Nue had run from her room with her clothes.

As Pun thanked her, she felt rather lonely and helpless. Her sadness almost set her to crying again. She applied some facial powder and felt better for it. Then off she went to present herself to Mom-Prom.

She found the children gleefully climbing over their father with squeals of delight.

Mom-Prom spoke, "You look better. E-Pun, wai to your boss. This meant she was to pay homage. Then Mom-Prom introduced the children. Here are Ying-Yai, Ying-Pud, and Chai-Luck. They were six, four, and one and a half years old. You and E-Nue must help me care for them all." she said.

Pun was on the floor amongst all the children that Mom-Prom had mentioned. She listened intently to Mom-Prom’s rules of etiquette.

Ying is a title of one who is one step below the prince. Since the prince is the son of the king, his children also have titles: Ying for the girl and Chai for the boy. It is proper to say Mom-Chao-Ying or Mom-Chao-Chai, but amongst family members you can use Ying-Chai. And Ying-Pis is our week-old baby. I am ill and unable to lift the baby for nursing. You must be close to me to help.

Yes, Mom, said Pun. Mom referred to the wife of the prince, usually the one who had had children. Sa-nom was the term for the concubines, who had a lower status and a smaller allowance. Pun was glad to accept her assignment.

2

PRINCE CHAIYA

In the good old days, middle nurses delivered babies at home. Several weeks prior to the due date, the middle nurse would ensconce herself with the expecting family and prepare herself for the delivery by living and eating like a queen. Of course, she had to be experienced at her craft and would usually brag to every household in Bangkok and Dhonburi that she had delivered at least a thousand babies. Thus, she was a very important person!

This middle nurse’s name was E-Pan—fat woman—and it described her perfectly. She had had this name for years prior to becoming grossly fat and strong like a bull.

Sometimes I need to use all of my strength to pull the baby out, you know. Most of the time, they don’t want to come out easily. It was the only excuse that she needed to justify her endless glut of eating.

After Mom-Prom had given birth to Ying-Pis, she’d had to sleep on fire. It was a tradition that had started a hundred years earlier. A small stove filled with red-hot wood charcoal was inserted under her wooden bed. The heat radiated through the planks directly to her middle back.

E-Pan was now preparing a thick cotton belt. This will kill all the germs and dirty scum left inside your body, E-Pan explained. It looked like a rifle-bullet hunting belt with a dozen pockets filled with small capped capsules. Pun held the belt with a thick cloth. With an iron thong, she picked small red-hot charcoal pebbles and dropped them into the capsules one by one until all were filled. Each lid was hinged to make the closing easier. When the belt became warm, she wrapped it around Mom-Prom’s abdomen. To keep the stove and the belt hot, the charcoal had to be replaced often.

Every day E-Pan carried Mom-Prom to her sauna, which looked like an American Indian teepee. Care had to be taken that no part of her body touched the ground for forty-two days after the delivery. She was placed on a little wooden stool in the middle of the lawn, near the entrance to her building. E-pan then wrapped her with a tarp that had wicker sticks sewn into it. At this point, Mom-Prom was a mini teepee with her head sticking out the top of it.

E-Pan would shove a large wood-burning stove into an opening. It held a large clay pot filled with all kinds of extremely pungent herbs. The removal of the pot lid would allow the herbal steam to penetrate and cleanse the skin. Everyone knew that having babies left the body very dirty and full of diseases. To pull this dirtiness out from the body, one used a sauna and herbs.

Mom-Prom sat in the sauna for three hours at a time, with her face drenched in sweat, looking as though she had been out in the rain. Pun ran back and forth between the sauna and Ying-Pis, who was bored with lying still for so long. Pun would pick her up to rock her and sing baby songs in a soft voice to calm her.

Every half hour Pun would deliver to Mom-Prom a variety of drinks, such as sweet young coconut juice, orange juice, water, or herbal drinks, as concocted by E-Pan. These replaced the water that she had lost.

The strong-smelling aroma from the pot included the scent of lemon grass, cinnamon, chili, mint, tamarind, and a wide variety of others—but especially the tamarind! Its brown juice covered all of Mom-Prom’s body. Adding sugar to it made a very sour drink.

It will clean your stomach and intestines! said E-Pan as she forced it upon Mom-Prom.

Pun felt sorry for Mom-Prom, who could not leave the teepee but had to constantly use the toilet. Pun would shove a stool pot into the teepee and later would remove it.

Lucky Mom, she was privileged to use the sauna for seven days. E-Pan served others of lower class for only three days, usually because of her voracious appetite for food and money. E-Pan had more time to spend with her higher-class customers.

Mom-Prom exited the sauna every day looking thinner and thinner, and always very exhausted. Pun had to be very close to her to serve her and to bring everything her mistress requested. It amazed Pun that it required forty-two days of staying indoors for mother and child!

Prince Chaiya came to visit every day after work and was glad to find his wife getting much better.

Thanks to E-Pun, Mom-Prom told her husband. She was very busy helping me to be comfortable all day and taking care of little Pis too. I hardly lifted a finger.

The prince laughed. At first, I thought that I had a burden. She is so tiny, just a little bigger than Ying-Yai. But she is diligent—and intelligent too.

Pun looked at them with her big round eyes. Her irises grew so large that the whites of her eyes could not be seen. It was the most beautiful part of her face. To her, the prince and Mom-Prom were to be treated like parents. She must respect them dearly, and she was eager to please them because of their kindness toward her.

Of course, Pun was a child too. She had time in the morning and afternoon to play with Ying-Yai, Ying-Pud, and little Chai-Luck, who always dragged behind. She had to pick him up sideways onto her waist and play with the others in this awkward way.

E-Nue did not help Mom-Prom at all. She took care of Ying-Yai and Ying-Pud. A manservant took care of Chai-Luck. They would play together late into the afternoon until dusk, when their father, the prince, came home for dinner.

Mom-Prom was not the only wife the prince owned. When his father, King Mongkut (reigning 1851–1868) was alive, Lady Thiang had been the most powerful wife. She had been the head of all the wives and had taken care of all of the king’s royal cuisine. She had also been very smart, for she had asked for a palace in the Royal Garden, called Suan Sivalai. It was the most beautiful palace after the king’s chambers.

Not only that, she had asked for Wang-Lang. Her reasoning had been this: If the king passes away, I will live with all my children in peace at Wang-Lang, growing fruits in the orchards. Who knows what the new king will be like?

She had gotten the Wang-Lang, which was like a third king’s palace. In the time of Ayutthaya, the old capital, the three palaces had lined up in a row. Wang-Na (Front Palace) in the north, Grand Palace (Middle Palace) was in the middle, and Wang-Lang (Back Palace) was in the south, which gave added protection to the Grand Palace.

King Taksin, who reigned from 1767 to 1782, moved his court to Dhonburi after the Burmese completely burned Ayutthaya in 1767. He selected his new capital at the area around the Temple of Dawn (Wat Arun), near Klong-Bangkok-Yai. He named the city Dhonburi, meaning an island, because it had a canal surrounding it. The canal flowed from the north through a small inlet called Klong-Bangkok-Noi (noi means small) and then around the entire city into a large outlet at Klong-Bangkok-Yai (yai means big).

King Rama I, reigning 1782–1809, started Wang-Lang for his nephew, Wang-Lang I, who had helped him fight the Burmese. Wang-Na was always the second king. The brother of King Rama I (formerly named Bun-Ma) fought five battles against the Burmese. Currently Wang-Na is a national museum, since Prince Wichaichan (Wang-Na V) died in 1885.

Wang-Lang was like a title for the third king. After the Burmese war, the prince Wang-Lang I gave the land to his mother, so that she could grow fruits in her orchard, especially lychee. Thus, the name of this area is Suan Lychee or Suan Mangosteen (suan means garden).

The head wife of Prince Wang-Lang I had three sons. So the prince built many buildings on the vast grounds. The main building was once a palace surrounded by many two-storied buildings. These had whitewashed brick walls with the prince’s emblem on three of the sides but none on the riverfront side.

Time passed, and only one of the Wang-Lang I’s sons had heirs. The title Third King became a joke because the Back palace was abolished altogether. This was mainly the result of Wang-Lang being situated across the river. Because of its isolation, it was harder to communicate. This was unlike in Ayutthaya’s time, when all three palaces lined up and there was a more compact union of the princes.

Lady Thiang had noticed that Wang-Lang was in a good location; it was near Klong-Bangkok-Noi, the inlet for merchandise by boat. The grounds were huge but unkempt. She asked the king for it and moved into it with her three youngest children. Princess Somawadi and other older princesses did not want to move across the river.

Prince Chaiya was about seven years old when his father, King Mongkut, died of malaria in 1868. He was at the Grand Palace with his sisters and was about to go to Wang-Na for army drill. After his father died, he drilled in the English style at Wang-Na for six years, until the revolt of 1874. He ran away because there was to be gun fighting between the Grand Palace and Wang-Na. Prince Chaiya couldn’t decide which side to support.

By the time he was eighteen, the prince had mastered the old-fashioned style of fighting, the martial arts at Ban-Chang-Law. He loved the sword fighting, the kick-boxing, and even the French fencing taught by Mrs. Anna’s son, Louis Leonowens.

Louis came to Thailand in 1882, and King Rama V made him an officer in the cavalry. At that time, Prince Chaiya was twenty-one and was already head of the king’s personal guards. Louis remembered Prince Chaiya very well because he had played with the little prince every time his mother, Anna, had gone to visit Lady Thiang at her royal home.

It was odd that Prince Chaiya married late in life. In the 1800s, the princes and the high-ranking officials arranged for their daughters to marry at the ages of eleven to twelve. The princes and nobles usually married between the ages of thirteen to sixteen.

Prince Chaiya had come home from fighting one day to find that his mother had accepted a girl to become his bride. You are eighteen years old and not married yet! That is appalling! Lady Thiang said sternly.

Having heard it a thousand times before, the prince left to prepare for his bath. However, this time he felt that, unlike all the previous times, it could not be avoided. Thus he leisurely took his time to return to the living room of Wang-Lang palace.

She is certainly very lovely. Lady Thiang kept up the admiration of the girl’s beauty in the most extravagant language. The girl was present in the room.

The prince viewed the girl with disgust. Her lips had been dyed a deep crimson. The eyebrows were indigo, and they met in the middle of her forehead. Kohl stained her eyelashes black. The tips of her fingers and nails were red from henna, and she had these huge, enormous gold chains and rings adorning her neck and hands.

She lay amongst a variety of gifts on the golden teak floor of the living room. Along one side of her sat bales of silk and supplies of perfumed candles and boxes of spices. Stacked high upon a golden tray were money bags and all kinds of odd gifts spilling from a black-lacquer-and-pearl-inlaid treasure chest. Surely she must be Chinese, judging by the expensive Chinese chest and vases he saw.

The parents of the bride had tried to hide the fact that she was Chinese by using heavy makeup. The father had probably just migrated from China. However, the mother and Lady Thiang were both enjoying the old-fashioned Siamese activity of chewing betel nuts.

The prince’s face froze with amazement. The girl bowed very low, which partially hid her face, as if to avoid his eyes. The amount of facial paint—wow! She looked like a Chinese dancer!

However, it was too late for him to escape. Apparently the bride’s family had been here for many hours prior to his arrival. He remained speechless while the bride’s family bowed to the floor and crawled away backward. They left behind the treasure and the girl with the painted face.

You have a bride now. I will no longer be worried about you, my dear son. She comes from a rich merchant family and is only thirteen, as her father has said. Lady Thiang condescendingly patted her son. He still sat frozen in awe.

She clapped her hands loudly. Bring all of Mom-Yai’s—Big Wife’s—belongings upstairs to the prince’s room.

But mother! I want to find my own bride!

I waited for you to do so for many years. Your brother, Prince Komlas, married at fifteen. You are absolutely too old to wait any longer!

I don’t like her! She is ugly. He pouted.

Women are all the same, after the light is out. His mother had used this old saying for years.

So, what about all of the women that you had sent to Father? If he seemed to like them all the same, why did he like you the best?

I had my ways, son. You will learn. The more wives you have, the better off you are.

Prince Chaiya had usually been a good son or mama’s boy. After much encouragement, he agreed to go upstairs to his bride.

There were many kinds of wives in those days. Placing the bride’s hands into the groom’s hands, as in this incident,. When it was done, it labeled the bride as Mia-Klang-Muang—the wife (mia) from the middle (klang) of town (muang). Thus, she was to be among the lowest class of wives. In the prince’s case, he really did not accept the girl. He did not even look at her, nor did he touch her. It was his mother who had accepted the bride, not him.

So without either of them knowing what to do that night, in the absolute darkness, the two virgins supposedly collided and collapsed together.

The next morning the prince awoke at his usual time of 5:00 a.m. He was startled to find another figure lying on his bed. The first rays of morning that peeked through the gingerbread lattice over the closed windows displayed a grotesque sight. His bride looked radically different than she had the previous evening—especially her face. All the various colors that had been properly applied were now all mixed together. There were black, blue, green, red, pink, and white base powders running into each other like a satanic mask.

She looked too plain!

Her hair was standing atop her head like a shoe brush, while the sides were shaven. This was also the mode or style of the Princess Lamom, the guardian and grandmother of the king, Chulalongkorn.

The face was what had startled him. One thought about the ugliness of the previous night made him run away from his own bedroom, closing the double doors behind him.

Som, bring my uniform to me! he yelled to his footman, who always waited by the door at this hour.

Som, a young man of twenty years, came running from downstairs. Prince—sire—Lady Thiang ordered me not to disturb you for three days.

I am going to work! Bring my uniform to my study! he ordered.

His footman couldn’t help but notice how gloomy he looked for a newlywed.

While showering and shaving, the prince recalled the joking of his colleagues and half brothers about the morning after. What is so special about it? he asked of the image in the shiny brass plate mirror.

He dressed in the study and then passed the bedroom on his way down to the dining room for breakfast. His mother sat alone at the end of a huge, ornately carved teak table that could seat ten people. She was sipping her rice-and-shrimp soup. An intense garlic aroma wafted across the room.

Good morning, Mae.

"Chai! You are not going to work today! You just got married, and it is customary for the bride and groom to stay in bed for three days. All your food will be delivered to you."

Whose custom is that? I do not intend to stay home! He took a drink from his cup of coffee. Besides, I have work to do. He then started on his rice-and-shrimp soup.

Lady Thiang leaned toward the prince and coyly asked, Well, how was she? Was she nice? Her questions were exactly what all son’s mothers wanted to know.

I don’t know. She looked so ghastly this morning that I thought I had seen a ghost!

Oh, that was just her paints. It’s nothing. They will wash off. I am really asking, how enjoyable was the virgin, and how did it feel?

She was not able to contain her curiosity. She was expecting a good report. After all, hadn’t she expertly selected hundreds of virgins for her husband, the king? She had even recorded his opinions about the girls’ performances. If a review was negative, she would never send that girl for a return visit with him.

The prince responded with, What is a virgin? I don’t know the meaning of that. If you are asking about the girl from last night, she felt very hollow and empty. But she sure was an experienced lover.

Lady Thiang felt a variety of emotions. Her face showed disappointment that her son not only had disliked his first woman but that he’d felt only hollowness and emptiness. They had been duped by the girl’s parents, who had assured them that the girl was a virgin!

She had never left the house. She was so ladylike and well educated in the woman’s arts of household duties. Her parents had paid a high price to introduce their daughter—and she was a rotten egg!

Lady Thiang had hoped for something better. She expected her daughter-in-law to be a good housekeeper, so that such responsibilities would shift to her. As time passed, Lady Thiang found the exact opposite to be the case. Everyone called her daughter-in-law Mom-Yai, which meant very lazy, because she hardly lifted a finger to do anything. Her rich father had given her two maids, who were always running to serve her. Often she refused to leave her bed, so that she could lie back and stare at the skies. Then she would always