SIAM:
ITS
GOVERNMENT, MANNERS, CUSTOMS, &c.
BY
Rev. N. A. McDONALD,
For ten years a Missionary in that country.
PHILADELPHIA:
ALFRED MARTIEN,
1214 CHESTNUT STREET.
1871.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by
ALFRED MARTIEN,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
To the Memory
Of the Founder of Milnwood Academy,
REV. J. Y. McGINNES,
Who had the cause of Foreign Missions very much at heart;
AND TO ALL WHO HAVE BEEN
PUPILS OF THAT INSTITUTION,
THIS LITTLE VOLUME
Is respectfully dedicated, by one of the earliest
Students of the Institution,
The Author.
[Illustration: The present King of Siam.]
Contents.
CHAPTER I.
GEOGRAPHY
CHAPTER II.
THE GOVERNMENT
CHAPTER III.
RELIGION
CHAPTER IV.
EDUCATION AND LITERATURE
CHAPTER V.
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
CHAPTER VI.
COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE
CHAPTER VII.
CEREMONIES FOR THE DYING AND DEAD
CHAPTER VIII.
THEORY AND PRACTICE OF MEDICINE
CHAPTER IX.
FARMING AND PRODUCTS
CHAPTER X.
MODE OF DIVIDING TIME
CHAPTER XI.
MISSIONARY OPERATIONS
PREFACE.
In giving these pages to the public the author has no ambition to make
a book. Having been invited by the Principal of Milnwood Academy, at
Shade Gap, Pa., to deliver in that Institution a series of lectures,
or talks, on Siam, its government, manners, customs, &c., a few
friends have requested that they be reduced to paper and published,
which is his only apology for giving them to the public in book form.
A few additions have been made, and the facts are narrated as seen and
understood by the author. In a few instances, to refresh his memory,
he has referred to articles on Siam, published in the _Bangkok
Calendar_ and elsewhere. The work is intended chiefly for a class of
readers who may not have access to the more pretending works recently
published on that country.
N. A. M.
Shade Gap, Pa., April, 1871.
SIAM.
CHAPTER I.
GEOGRAPHY, Etc.
On my "overland" journey from Siam to the United States, through
France and England, many persons were accustomed to accost me saying,
"Pardon me, Sir, but what nationality is that young man who is with
you?" referring to my Siamese boy. That boy, Sir, is a Siamese. "A
Siamese! Well, I must confess my geography is a little shaky,--I
scarcely know where Siam is,--but I remember now that is where the
Siamese twins came from." Referring, of course, to those unfortunate
beings who by some "lusus naturæ" are inseparably connected together,
and have been obliged to spend a long life in that condition, and who
have consequently become almost the only means by which their native
country is known to a vast majority of Europeans. When I, in 1860,
determined to go to Siam, I found it next to impossible to gather from
books any reliable information concerning it, and consequently took
shipping at New York almost as ignorant of the country to which I was
going, as I was of the moon. Fortunately however, some of our party
were returning, and before we arrived at our destination I was pretty
well prepared for what I was to encounter. Geographies are nearly
silent in regard to Siam, from the simple fact that geographers
themselves know nothing about it. It is also to be regretted that,
until very recently, chiefly all the books concerning Oriental
countries were written by mere cursory travellers, whose knowledge of
the countries through which they passed, or at which they touched,
must necessarily have been limited, and the chief object of many of
them appears to have been to make a readable book, oftentimes at the
expense of truth.
You will naturally ask, where is Siam? At the extreme point of that
vast continent extending from the snows of Siberia to the Equator, and
terminating in the long narrow Malay peninsula, is the little island
of Singapore, separated from the mainland by a narrow strait. The
island is about twenty-five miles long, and about fourteen miles
broad, and commands the entrance of the China sea. The English, who
have ever had an eye to strategic points, and especially in the East,
took possession of it in 1819, being then little more than a Malay
fishing village, and a nest for pirates. The present town of
Singapore, well laid out and neatly built, and situated on the
southern extremity of the island commanding the anchorage, contains
perhaps one hundred thousand inhabitants, whilst the principal English
merchants live in palatial residences on the hills in the rear of the
town. The government of the island, together with Malacca, Penang, and
Province Wellesley, has lately teen transferred from the Indian
Government directly to the Crown. It is a beautiful little island,
with a genial climate, and I know of no place in the East where I
would rather live.
Leaving Singapore, and passing through the strait, up the peninsula,
over the lower part of the China sea, and up the gulf of Siam about
eight hundred miles, you come to the kingdom of Siam, sandwitched
between Cambodia on the east and Burmah on the west, extending from
about latitude 4° to 22° north, and from longitude about 98° to
104° east; consequently there is neither frost or snow, but perpetual
summer reigns. The leaves fall and are replaced by new ones, whilst
those who are daily witnesses to it scarcely notice the change.
The climate of Siam is genial and healthy, but the constant heat is
trying to the constitutions of Europeans, who require a change at
least once in ten years. The seasons are two, the wet and the dry.
From November to May scarcely a cloud obscures the sky, and no rain
falls except perhaps a shower in January. The Siamese look for a
shower in that month, and are disappointed if it does not come. They
think it necessary for certain kinds of fruit which is just then
forming, and they also think it indicative of a good rice season. I
have, however, in ten years, seen January pass several times without
the expected shower. From November to February the weather is
delightful, being the cool season, but the thermometer is seldom lower
than 64°. March and April are the hottest months, but the thermometer
does not rise as high as might be expected in such a climate. I have
never seen it over 98°, but on account of the long absence of rain,
the ground in most places becomes dry and parched, and the rays of the
sun, reflected from the heated earth, give the atmosphere a kind of
bake-oven feeling, which is oftentimes hard to endure. From November
to May the wind blows constantly from the northeast, and is called the
"northeast monsoon." From May till November again, is the wet season,
the wind blowing constantly from the southwest, and is called the
"southwest monsoon," the rain falling in copious showers almost every
day. The showers come in a kind of rotation. If there is one to-day at
a certain hour, there will be one to-morrow an hour later. The showers
are copious indeed, and sometimes one would think the "windows of
heaven were opened." The lightning is vivid, and the thunder
oftentimes terrific.
Whither the name Siam came, or whence it is derived, it is now
impossible to tell. The Siamese themselves know nothing of it, only as
it is applied to their country by Europeans. The name they apply to
their country is "Muang Thai," the free country, in distinction from
those countries which are tributary. The name Siam, however, is now
coming into common use, and is sometimes inserted in public documents.
The geology of Siam is simple, the lower portion near the gulf being
an alluvial deposit, the result of the annual overflowing of the
rivers, which takes place at the close of every rainy season. The
water from the copious rains rushes down from the mountains up the
country, and overflows the lowlands, enriching them and causing them
to produce abundant crops of rice. The mountains are volcanic, and
some of them have the appearance of having been thrown from a distance
and set down in their present positions.
Many of them are barren of almost everything green, presenting to the
eye but little that is attractive, but others, especially in the North
Laos country, present scenery indescribably grand. In many places,
especially along the seacoast, the old granite, the foundation of all
things, geologically speaking, comes to the surface, and even projects
out in bold bluffs and headlands. The rocks on many of the mountains
present the appearance of having at one time been lashed by the waves
of the sea, and there is abundant evidence that much of the lower
country has been redeemed from the sea at no very remote period.
The country is drained by three streams of considerable size, which
empty into the gulf. The principal one is put down on our maps as the
Menam, but called by the Siamese Menam Chow Phya, Menam being the
generic name for river, meaning mother of water, and Chow Phya being
the specific name for that particular river. Were it not for a sandbar
at its mouth, it would be navigable for the largest class of vessels
to Bangkok, but on that account the largest vessels are obliged to
anchor in the roadstead outside. The Bampakong on the east, and
Tacheen on the west, are also streams of some importance. Besides
these, there are also a number of smaller streams.
Bangkok, the capital of the kingdom, is situated on both sides of the
Menam Chow Phya, about twenty-five miles from its mouth. It contains
about four hundred thousand inhabitants, and has been called the
Venice of the East, from the fact that much of the city is floating on
the river in the form of floating houses. These floating houses are a
kind of nondescript affair, and it is impossible to give one who has
never seen them any idea of them. The following description, by the
oldest missionary in Siam, and published in the _Bangkok Calendar_ of
1866, though quite too elaborate for easy reading, is as good as
anything that can be given, and I shall insert it "in toto."
"Our friends in the western world have heard a good deal about the
floating houses of Bangkok, but they universally speak of being unable
to understand, after all that has been written, what kind of things
they are. If the descriptions that have been given of them could have
always been accompanied by good photographic pictures of the same, our
friends would have had much less difficulty in understanding them. But
such pictures are too expensive to procure for illustrating 'The
Bangkok Calendar,' which never pays for its cost, and hence we must do
the next best thing, and that is to descend into quite minute detail,
if we would make our friends who have never visited Bangkok understand
such unique structures as the floating houses of the city. And as
these houses form a large part of the dwellings and mercantile shops
of this great metropolis, being the most conspicuous of all buildings
(the temples only excepted) as you pass up and down the Menam Chow
Phya, the 'Broadway' of Bangkok, they seem to demand a minute
description in 'The Calendar.' These floating houses are moored on
both sides of the river for a distance of nearly three miles. Their
size, on an average, is about forty by thirty feet on the base; in
height, eight feet to the eves, and fifteen feet to the ridge of the
roof. As this base could not be covered by a roof of only two sides,
and make it sufficiently steep to shed rain well, without being too
high for safety on the river in time of a squall, the natives divide
the area to be covered into two nearly equal parts, and put a
two-sided roof over each division, thatched with the attap palm leaf,
(_cocos nipa_.) The two eves that thus meet in the middle of the house
have an eve-trough common to both of them, which is always seen in the
house about eight feet from the floor, passing uniformly in the
direction of the river. Hence nearly all these floating houses appear
to be double, standing sidewise to the river, the ridge of the front
being a little lower than the one behind it. There is always a narrow
verandah four or five feet wide attached to the front division, which
is covered with an extra roof of attap leaves, extending from under
the main point roof, with a more gentle slope than the front roof, and
then, in front of these, there is usually a small bamboo float from
three to five feet wide. This is sometimes extended the whole length
of the house, and sometimes only from three to ten feet. The eve of
the verandah is not more than six feet above the floor. From this
there is often suspended a bamboo mat, or some other material more
tasty, for a screen from the glare of the river. The ends of the two
double roofs are all furnished precisely alike with a peculiar kind of
moulding made of a thin plank tastefully curved at the bottom, like
the written capital A, and put up edgewise at the extreme end, to
constitute a neat finish for the thatching. The triangular area made
by each double roof at the ends is generally closed with attap
thatching; sometimes with bamboo matting, sometimes with wooden
pannelled work, sometimes with a regular clap-boarding, and rarely
with woodwork radiating from the lower side of the triangle upwards.
"These floating houses are always divided into two main rooms--the
front and inner one. The floor of the latter is about one foot higher
than the front. There are narrow passages five feet wide at the right
and left of these rooms, which are simply enclosed verandahs, with
each an attap roof, leading to a narrow room of the same width and
kind in the extreme rear. The front room is used for the purpose of a
variety-store, and the inner one for a bed-room.
"In it you will generally find the family idol-altar, if the occupant
be a Chinese. It is often used for putting away lots of goods, a few
samples of which are daily exposed for sale in the front room. These
exhibitions are made on a kind of amphitheatre-formed shelving facing
the river, so that every article can be seen at a glance by passers-by
in boats. The whole front is exposed to view in the daytime, not by
opening all the doors and windows, but by taking down much of the
front siding, which consists of boards varying from ten to twelve
inches in width, standing up endwise, and fitted into grooves above
and below. These boards are slid out early every morning, one by one,
and laid away out of sight under the floor, in a place reserved for
them during the day. Early in the evening each board is put in its
place for closing up the front of the shop, leaving not the least door
or window by which one may have direct access to it. But there is a
small door in front of each of the narrow passages in the extreme
rear.
"This narrow room is commonly used for the purposes of a cook-room.
The fire place is simply a shallow wooden box filled with clay. There
is no chimney or stovepipe attached to any of them. In the place of
one they make a scuttle hole in the thatched roof only six feet above,
and this has a trap door made of the same material as the roof, which
can be closed in rainy weather. Even in the best weather only a part
of the smoke escapes through the opening, while the remainder finds
its way out in all quarters. Consequently this little cook-room is
always a very smoky place, and is blackened with soot to a greater or
less extent, as are also many other parts of the establishment.
"Some better-to-do occupants of these floating houses have a small
bamboo caboose, moored at one end of the dwelling house. The floating
houses are usually enclosed with teak boards standing up endwise, and
permanently fixed into grooves above and below. Sometimes the siding
is made of bamboo wattling.
"It remains to be shown the mode of buoying up the floating houses
above the water, which being quite unique, deserves a particular
description. In the sills of the house are framed five rows of
scantling, four-by-six inches or larger, which descend into the water
five or six feet. These are so arranged that they divide the whole
area underneath the sills into four equal parts, or, as the Siamese
say, _hawngs_, or sections, for filling with bamboo poles. The first
object of these five rows of _legs_, bounding as they do the four
equal divisions, is to prevent the bamboo poles from rolling out
sideways under the pressure of the superincumbent house; and the other
is to render it quite convenient to exchange every year old and rotten
bamboos for new ones. Now a new set of bamboos will serve well the
purposes of a buoy only about two years; and to save the trouble of
exchanging all under the house at once, the natives manage to exchange
only half of them annually, so that the house is not for a moment left
without enough to keep it well out of the water. This is done by
removing all the bamboos from one or two of the divisions which have
been in use two years, and filling their places with new ones. The
divisions which have bamboos of one year's service remain undisturbed
until next year; when their time has expired, they too are cast out to
give place to others. Thus there are always left two divisions of the
last year's bamboos to serve in conjunction with two divisions of new
ones. The annual cost of new bamboos for a floating house of medium
size is not far from forty _Ticals_, and the number of bamboo poles
required is from five to eight hundred.
"As these floating houses are generally moored close together,
standing end to end, in an even line in the direction of the river, it
becomes necessary that the house which is to be replenished with
bamboos should be moved out a little in front of its neighbor's, thus
making room for sliding out the old bamboos from either end, and
sliding in new ones to fill their places. There are men who follow
this business as their profession, and do it very dextrously. One day
is quite sufficient to accomplish the whole work for any house. The
bamboos, it scarcely need be said, are slender poles, from three to
four inches in diameter at the butt-end, and not more than half that
size at the top. They are from twenty-five to thirty feet in length.
The top ends of the poles are always the ones that are pushed under
the house, and consequently are hidden, while the butt-ends are always
external, forming an even surface at each end of the house. The poles
being about three-fourths the length of the house, the smaller
extremities consequently overlap each other from eight to ten feet,
and make an equal thickness of buoying material beneath the middle of
the house, with that of each end.
"A house newly buoyed up looks quite tidy and dry, its floors being
from three to four feet above water. The houses are kept in their
places, forming a regular line with their fellows, thirty feet or more
from shore, by means of three or four teak posts or piles, driven at
each end into the soft bottom of the river six or eight feet; and
these are made mutual supporters of each other by lashing a bamboo
pole across them all near their tops. The house is then fastened to
these posts by means of bands or hoops encircling very loosely each
post, so that they shall readily slip up and down as the tide raises
the house or causes it to settle down. For this purpose it is
indispensable that there be no notches or knots on the posts that
shall cause the hoops to catch on them. Such a notch would cause the
post to be drawn up out of its place in a flowing tide, and would sink
it deeper in an ebbing one. While sitting in these houses you will
often hear a crack, and consequent sudden sinking of the house, caused
by the sliding of a hoop out of the place where it had been caught on
the posts. Where the water is unusually deep where a floating house is
moored, and the bottom of the river unstable, you will see the tops of
the mooring posts made fast by a cable to something firm on shore.
Sometimes the whole gives way notwithstanding, and then the house is
adrift at the mercy of the tide. The writer was once in a floating
house that had got adrift in the night time, and floated down the
river many miles before it could be made to submit to the power of the
ropes and cables, with which we endeavoured many times in vain to stop
her downward way. She would snap our stoutest ropes, as Samson did all
the instruments with which his enemies bound him. These floating
houses are often moved from place to place, and it is no uncommon
thing to see one floating up or down the river with the family in, and
everything going on as regularly within as if it was snugly moored."
The buildings on shore belonging to the chief princes and nobles, are
built of rough brick and stuccoed inside and out. The style of
architecture is a kind of Siamo-Chinese. The next best kind of house
consists of posts sunk into the ground, which constitute the frame
work, whilst the sides are made of boards wrought into a kind of
pannel work. This is called a _"ruen fa kadan,"_ or weatherboarded
house. These are the houses of the poorer princes and nobles, and the
better class of the common people. The houses of the poorer classes of
the common people are made on the same plan, only the sides are
constructed of bamboo wattling. These are called _"ruen fa tak,"_ or
open-sided house.
The river is the "Broadway" of the city, whilst canals form the
principal cross streets or avenues. Chiefly all travel in the city,
and indeed everywhere in Siam, is done in boats. If a person wishes to
go to church, to market, to call on a friend--in short, any where, he
goes in a boat. The rivers are the great avenues of trade, whilst the
whole country near the Gulf is intersected by a network of canals. But
in those portions distant from the rivers or canals resort must be had
to ox-carts and elephants.
Siam is the genial land of the elephant. He roams wild in her forests,
but those which have not at least been partially tamed are now
becoming scarce. He constitutes in the northern provinces the chief
beast of burden, and one of the special uses to which he is put, is
drawing timber from the forest to the bank of the river, where it can
be formed into rafts and floated to market. I have seen a huge
elephant with his tusks and trunk roll a large log up a declivity more
quickly and dextrously than a dozen men would have done it.
Siam has also been denominated the land of the "white elephant," from
the peculiar reverence shown for that animal. There is, however, no
such thing as a white elephant. The standing color is black, but
occasionally one is found which by some freak in nature is a kind of
Albino, or flesh color. He comes as near the color of a badly burned
brick as anything else. The Siamese do not call him a white elephant,
but a _"chang puak,"_ a strange colored elephant. From time immemorial
the Siamese have considered this strange colored animal the emblem of
good luck, and the king, who has had the greatest number of them, is
handed down in history as the most fortunate monarch. A certain king
had at one time three of them. The king of Burmah sent an embassy,
asking one as a special favor, which was emphatically denied. At this
the king of Burmah took umbrage, and sent an army and took the whole
of them. When one is found in the forest, word is sent immediately to
the capital, and preparations are made for conducting him to the
palace with the greatest honors and religious ceremonies. He is
enthroned in a palace within the walls of the king's palace, and is
henceforth fed on the luxuries of the land. He seldom, however, lives
long, being killed with kindness. He would be much happier and his
life would be considerably prolonged by allowing him to roam in his
native forest. The finder of such an elephant too, is generally
handsomely rewarded. Some travellers have stated that the white
elephant is worshipped, but I have never seen anything of the kind,
nor do I believe it. He is, however, held in peculiar reverence,
because he is considered the emblem of good luck. The flag of the
country is the flag of the white elephant. I am told that some
Frenchman has lately written a book, in which he states that he has in
his possession a hair from the tail of the white elephant of Siam,
which he obtained at great sacrifice, and even risk of his life. The
hair he may have, but the rest is imaginary.
The present population of Siam cannot be much short of eight millions.
The Siamese proper are evidently an off-shoot from the Mongolian race,
but by what admixtures they have arrived at their present status it
would be difficult to ascertain. Some one has given the following
description of them, which is substantially correct. "The average
height is five feet three inches, arms long, limbs large, and bodies
inclined to obesity. The face is broad and flat, the cheek bones high,
and the whole face assumes a lozenge shape. The nose is small, mouth
wide, and lips thick, but not protruding. The eyes are small and
black, and the forehead low. The complexion rather inclined to a
yellowish hue. The whole physiognomy has a sullen aspect, and the gait
sluggish." The Siamese, as a general thing, do not tattoo their bodies
as many eastern nations do.