Chapter 25B
The Bible’s Translation into English

In the same breath he talked about King Narai. He explained that now he could talk to the king intelligibly and honestly. No more guessing games. No more depending upon biased clergy to give the answers. All these wonderful thoughts raced through his mind. Having a Greek Bible, a Bible in his own native language, his troubles were over he thought; but yet, he also realized with a Bible in his hand that he was opening the door to troubles. He remembered Captain Hollingsworth telling him that many good people were executed for their Bible knowledge. For centuries the Bible had been available mostly in Latin and could be read only by the clergy. Then in the 14th century came John Wycliffe, the first man to translate the complete Bible into the language of the people of his time. Because of his prominence among the ruling and scholarly classes he was allowed to die in peace. But that is not the end of his story. A hundred and fifty years later came William Tyndale. Like Wycliffe before him, he wanted to make available a Bible that could be read and understood by the common people. It was a dangerous undertaking which resulted in his execution. He was strangled and his body burned, burned together with the exhumed bones of John Wycliffe.

Indeed, Captain Hollingsworth had said that people like John Wycliffe, and William Tyndale, and other individuals who sought the truth had been executed by the Catholic Church for exposing doctrine that the church did not want them to rightfully know. Not that Tyndale, Wycliffe and the others deliberately exposed the false doctrine of the church but by bringing up the Bible truth, somehow their lies became exposed. Phaulkon knew he was treading on forbidden ground.

“Master, master,” Diego said, bringing Phaulkon back to reality. “Master, maybe you can find the passage from the old man.

Remember when we-“

“Yes, yes,” Phaulkon said, “I remember when we were on the raft-Psalm 37. I’ll find it!” He began turning the pages excitedly. At last he found what he was looking for. Diego could see his face light up.  . .

“You found it; you found it,” Diego shouted with delight. Then turning to Marie, he said, “I know very little about these things but I do remember when I was a little boy back home, my mother had just died and this old man showed my father and me a passage from the Holy book he carried with him. He said that I will see my mother again, back here on Earth, and then we can all live happily ever after. It all came back to me when we were shipwrecked. I can’t forget that passage. It’s all I know really-Psalm 37.29”

“Yes Diego, it’s here, it’s here,” Phaulkon said waving his hand above his head. He read: “And the righteous themselves will possess the earth and they will reside forever upon it.”

Phaulkon was as pleased as Diego was for now he had seen it himself. Phaulkon was soon lost in his own reverie, turning from one page to another. Diego quietly slipped away! And Marie went upstairs to bed and Phaulkon stayed awake reading the Bible until dawn. And then when he went to bed, he couldn’t sleep. He was thrilled but he also knew his problems were just beginning. After reading only a dozen pages or more at random from the Bible, he realized, after all, it was not an easy book to read let alone to understand. The very things he was taught about the Christian faith were not the same as what was written in the Holy book, at least not those things he had been taught by the clergy. He wondered, “”Was it the translation of this Greek Bible that caused all the problems in the church?” He got out of bed and went to his desk and there he looked for his letters from Captain Hollingsworth.

The candles had long since burned out but there was enough light to read. He had written a letter to Captain Hollingsworth to hurry with the English Bible. Phaulkon had been communicating with Captain Hollingsworth, now retired and living in Hampton north of London. The captain spent his days doing what he wanted to do after a lifetime at sea and that was to study and research at Oxford University. Phaulkon read the letters over and over and fell asleep with his head on the desk.

“Frenchness”

The next afternoon Phaulkon went to see Ambassador Chaumont at his residence along with Bishop Laneau to do the translating. He found him reclining on a lounge chair being fanned by two near-naked servant girls. He opened the discourse by explaining to the ambassador that the Siamese are concerned about Dutch intervention; the king’s ministers wanted to know if the support they were getting from King Louis would continue. “King Narai would like to seal a firm alliance with France,” Phaulkon said.

“I assure you,” Chaumont replied, after sending the servant girls away, “that the King of France will do all in his power to protect Siam from the Dutch but for now, my mission is not to discuss war but to teach King Narai the doctrine of Christian faith.”

Phaulkon could see that Chaumont was not a man to try to reason with. He was persistent and his thoughts were fixed. He was indomitable. He found refuge by stating he was entrusted with the responsibility of converting King Narai to Christianity and nothing else mattered. Both Phaulkon and the bishop attempted to plead to his better senses.

“It is not an easy goal to achieve,” Phaulkon stressed. “King Narai is head of a kingdom that has worshipped their own god for some two thousand years.”

“That’s all the more reason we must press harder for the king’s conversion,” he replied.

Phaulkon explained the best he could that King Narai’s faith was as strong as the ambassador’s, that the king was willing to die for his belief, and he would do everything to protect, preserve and extend his faith to others. In final desperation Phaulkon said, “Your Excellency has asked me to help in this grave matter, to assist in teaching a king the Christian faith when I myself do not fully understand its teachings. You assign me this most difficult work which I have no desire to carry out as I am not equipped to do so.”

“Tell me, Monsieur Constantine,” Chaumont said, ignoring Phaulkon’s statement completely, “have you talked to the king about his conversion yet?”

“How can I when I don’t even know where to begin?” Phaulkon asked.

“No matter,” Chaumont said. “I shall start the dialogue myself with the king, with you, Constantine, as our interpreter.”

“Your Excellency, you do not understand,” Phaulkon said, with Bishop Laneau nodding his approval, “you cannot do it that way. The king would just tell us to leave. Even if the king were interested, he would have to pretend not to be. The whole country would rebel, giving generals and ministers the opportunity to seize the throne.”

“I can and must do it my way,” Chaumont insisted. “Leave that up to me. God is on my side.” He then, without further words, dismissed Phaulkon and Bishop Laneau.

Ambassador Chaumont’s second audience with King Narai was arranged. Both Phaulkon and Bishop Laneau accompanied him to the meeting. With the greeting and formalities completed, Chaumont confirmed, at the king’s bidding, that there were rumors that the Dutch were planning an attack on Siam, as they were jealous of Siam’s relationship with France. Phaulkon breathed a sigh of relief. At least the ambassador started off on the right foot. King Narai then asked the ambassador his opinion of the Dutch.

“The Dutch wouldn’t dare attack Siam,” he said. “The Dutch owe King Louis respect after our magnificent French victories in Europe.”

King Narai said he hoped the ambassador was right, that he still didn’t trust the Dutch, and he then turned to trade matters.

Chapter 25A
THE MEMORANDUM

The demands the French were putting on Phaulkon were a heavy burden that deeply troubled him. It was becoming, to say the least, emotionally draining. He felt, in all honesty, that he could not proceed much longer with their requests. How could he assist the French ambassador and his embassy in converting King Narai and his kingdom to Christianity when he himself had doubts? All his life he had been confused with the tenets of Christianity and no bishop, no priest, no father, no brother, no missionary, not one of them could give him the answers he sought. In the final analysis, he reasoned, how could they? They were fighting among themselves about which scriptures were right and which were wrong.

The most disturbing issue was France’s revocation of the Edict of Nantes. King Narai had lauded the Edict. Issued in 1598 by Henry N of France, it granted French Protestant Huguenots substantial rights in a Catholic nation. The Edict separated civil from religious unity, and opened a path for secularism and tolerance. It offered general freedom of conscience to individuals. King Narai pointed out to Phaulkon, in one of their discussions, that Siam had long been tolerant toward religion. Phaulkon’s very own wife, and her father, had been granted asylum when they fled Japan from religious persecution by the Shogun. And did not the king grant asylum to the Makassars? The Edict of Nantes was an act of toleration which stood virtually alone and separated France from the rest of Europe. Now King Louis XIV was rescinding it. The new Edict of Fontainebleau revoked the Edict of Nantes, retaining Catholicism as the established religion of France. The authorities limited Protestant freedom of worship to specified geographic areas, outside city walls. The Edict did not include Jews or Muslims. Protestantism was declared illegal within city walls. King Narai was aware of what was happening in France and it disturbed him immensely to think the very people who were attempting to convert him were so intolerant and uncompromising.

As the French were making their demands, King Narai was faced with other crises. There were reports that the Dutch, due to French involvement in the kingdom, planned to attack Siamese strongholds in the south and on the Andaman Sea. To further complicate the matters, rumors were that the Muslims were building up strength and becoming progressively more agitated with the French for aligning themselves with King Narai. Reports were that the rebels had set up camps in the jungle outside Kung Thep, a village the French called Bangkok, down river from Ayutthaya on the right bank of the river. The Muslims were not pleased with the French building a fortress on the riverbank across from the village.

These were not unwarranted complaints which Phaulkon pointed out to King Narai but which, he carefully explained, could be handled diplomatically. It was true that the French had constructed a fortress across the river from Bangkok but it was manned with the king’s soldiers as well as a French garrison. The French had also built a fortress for the king in Songkau in the south. About the Muslim rebels amassing another force, no one was certain, not even General Phetracha. Phaulkon informed the king he would send spies to investigate. He would also try to ascertain the allegations of a Dutch threat. One person who might have the answer to the Dutch question was the French Ambassador Chaumont. Phaulkon agreed that he would gladly consult with the Ambassador and bring him before His Majesty.

After leaving the king’s chambers, Phaulkon turned to Diego for help. While Christoph guarded Marie and the baby at their residence in Louvo, Diego went down to the river waterfront to see what he could find out about Muslims massing in the jungle. He put aside his finery and jeweled sword, donned old seamen’s clothes and began scouring the waterfront with the pretense he was looking for work aboard any of the vessels moored on the river. He went from one ship to another, talking to the seamen and wharf laborers. It was by chance and chance alone that he made a colossal discovery, one that he not even remotely expected. Of course, at the time, he was unaware of what he had found. It came totally by accident.

As was the procedure, hundreds of vessels were anchored in the center of the river in lines of twos and threes that stretched miles down steam. Diego hired a skiff to scull him out to the ships. The European square-riggers were harder to approach. Armed marines aboard the vessels turned him away every time he approached; the Japanese junks were much the same; they didn’t want intruders. The easier ones to approach were the Chinese junks, usually very dilapidated and not worth investigating. They had nothing to reveal. Next were the Arab dhows. They didn’t care who came aboard. But the crews had little information of any value.

A copy of the Greek Septuagint

It was getting late and he was about ready to give up, when he saw a weather-beaten Portuguese trader anchored far down river. He went aboard to find that most of the crew were Greek. They were not likely to be knowledgeable about Muslim uprisings but by this time it was late and Diego was tired. He had one last bottle of Jamaican rum which he removed from his sack when he climbed aboard. The Greek sailors, upon seeing the rum, immediately perked up and asked Diego to bring his bottle and sit with them around the capstan at the fo’c’sle. When they learned that Diego was an old hand in the kingdom they bombarded him with questions about Siam and the people. Most of the sailors, long in the service of Portuguese ships, could speak Portuguese. Being the good storyteller that he was, Diego told them what they wanted to know. The conversation drifted from one thing to another and then, quite by accident, one of the seamen mentioned a Holy Book that he had in his possession. Diego asked if he could see it. The seaman was reluctant at first, fearing the goading he would get from his mates for showing something so worthless, but he finally agreed and went below deck to get the book.

Diego was disappointed when the seaman showed him the book, an act that brought laughter from everyone around the capstan. And no small wonder. It was quite tattered and threadbare and the writing was some sort of archaic script. But a thought came to Diego. He was aware of Phaulkon’s disappointment after not being able to obtain a copy of the Holy Book and wondered, perhaps, if this worn old volume might please him. The seaman didn’t want to part with it, but when Diego offered him a price, and with his mates urging him on, he couldn’t refuse and accepted Diego’s offer.

With the book in hand, Diego made his way to Phaulkon’s residence in Louvo. Christoph was on guard when he arrived.

“I see you have come back and I trust that it is with good news you bring,” he said to Diego when he saw him coming up the walkway.

“Yeah, but see what I got here,” Diego said and held up the packet for Christoph to see.

It was the middle of the night and Diego, being in a happy mood, decided, against Christoph’s protests, to wake up Phaulkon and present him with his discovery. It wasn’t necessary. Their ruckus had awoken Phaulkon and he was not pleased with Diego’s sudden outburst. He came to the door and was about to reprimand him but stopped when Diego unfolded the cloth covering that bound the book. Phaulkon was, at first, mystified. What sort of epistle was this? He hesitated, slowly turning to the first page, and then the second. He took the book into the front room, followed by Diego, and lighted several candles. Studying the book closer, he ran his finger over the page. The writing was Greek script which he had learned when a schoolboy. He turned to the title page. It was sudden, like a bolt of lightning hitting him. He was astounded beyond belief. He couldn’t control himself and let out a shout that awoke the whole household and brought Marie running down the stairs.

“Do you realize what you have here?” Phaulkon shouted with glee and threw his arm around Diego and then picked up Marie and spun her around the room. “Do you realize this is a Greek Bible, a Bible written in my own language?” He carefully laid the book down on the table and motioned for Marie and Diego to come closer. “A Greek Bible!” he repeated. “I’ve been trying to find an English Bible for the longest time. I always thought to find one in Greek would be impossible. Then look at this-a Greek Bible!” He stumbled for words. “I have-” He looked at Marie and Diego. “No, we-” he emphasized the word ‘we’-“we have a Greek Bible! In 280 B.C, seventy Hebrew scholars gathered in Alexandria and worked twenty years to translate the Hebrew Bible into Greek. They called it the Septuagint.” He became more excited as he explained the Bible. “These are original scriptures that haven’t been changed or altered. Now we can find the answers to our questions.”

Chapter 24B

Questions on Religious Truth

And so, early the next morning, they departed from Wat Prote Saht for the final passage upriver to meet the King of Siam in his palace. Hundreds of beautifully decorated barges accompanied the visitors to their destination. In the center of the grand procession, gliding effortlessly along, was a golden, jewel-encrusted barge lined with fine Persian carpets. Amidships was an ornate presentation stand of solid gold, and it was here the Siamese officials placed the letter from Louis XIV. A hundred men splendidly dressed in red silk penangs, golden tunics and scarlet headpieces paddled this immense barge, nearly two hundred feet long. They kept their cadence, perfectly timed, dipping their oars in unison, then pausing holding them in midair, to the tune of drummers setting the pace-kupong, kupong, kupong. And at every temple along the way the chant of monks filtered out across the water.

Behind this barge came another richly ornamented vessel in which Ambassador Chaumont was seated on a chair covered with rich red velvet. And behind the ambassador’s barge came another barge, equally beautiful, with Abbe de Choisy sitting proudly aboard. He waved incessantly and jubilantly to the people along the banks of the river, often times standing up and unfolding his arms like a Roman senator. He relished the moment with great joy and enthusiasm.

Phaulkon followed in yet another splendid, bejeweled barge. He sat alone, amidships, as solemn as a marble statue. His thoughts couldn’t help drifting back to the first time he came upriver when he was in chains in the bilge of a slave boat. What a twist of fate. Now he was being honored, and yet wasn’t he the same person with the same ideas and the same beliefs?

They were soon joined by hundreds of smaller barges and river boats carrying nobles and courtiers. The River Menam was a mass of beautiful barges and riverboats, all moving together upriver with a rendezvous to keep.

When they reached the city wall and disembarked, a new procession on land quickly formed, led by nobles and court officials on elephant back, all in line according to their rank. Two guards in long tailcoats and plumed hats led the ambassador to a carved sedan chair and bid him be seated. Ten men, all dressed alike in costumes of Hong dancers, hoisted the chair with the ambassador elegantly seated, and carried him forward through the streets. The Abbe de Choisy followed in another beautifully carved sedan chair, and with Abbe in his chair was the gold stand bearing the precious letter. More than a hundred elephants in war harness led the way, and all along the route the people of Ayutthaya, by the thousands, prostrated themselves on the ground. The procession reached the second court and here there were fifty more elephants, taller than the first group, all bedecked with gold cloths and jewels. The elephants, with their mahouts sitting astride their backs, kneeled with their heads bent to the ground. It was magnificent to behold.

In the last court, a short distance after the procession had marched past the king’s famous White Elephant, everyone dismounted and proceeded on foot to the audience hall. Abbe de Choisy attempted to carry the stand, fondling it in his arms, but being made of pure gold it weighed a hundred pounds and was too much for him. After a very short distance in the downpour of tropical heat he was about to faint. Two assistants came to his aid and took up the load. Abbe de Choisy sobbed seeing it slip from his fingers.

Phaulkon and Father Tachard walked with Ambassador Chaumont to the palace. Bishop Laneau followed a few paces behind them. As they walked, Chaumont didn’t stop talking. He rambled on about his meeting with the Pope and about the power of the Catholic Church in Europe. It was almost as though he was still in France. Phaulkon wanted to tell him about Siam and the Siamese, about the customs and habits of the land, and about the history of the kingdom. But Chaumont cared only about himself, to make his own presence known, and, of course, about his mission. Every other word was about converting the king. Phaulkon listened politely, accepted the talk like a forlorn child, but when Chaumont began questioning him about his own beliefs he became quite annoyed. “This is not the place or the time to discuss religion,” Phaulkon said abruptly to the annoyance of Chaumont. Phaulkon had noted from the moment they met that Chaumont was a religious zealot and his unbending and humorless demeanor would not endear him to the Siamese court. Phaulkon became aware, the more they conversed, that the ambassador’s indignation for those who didn’t believe as he did arose from his destructive puritanism. Phaulkon saw trouble ahead, and he alone had to find a solution to divert what was certain to be calamity.

They reached the entrance to the palace and Phaulkon led the way through five courts to the audience hall. Phaulkon feared that General Phetracha and Sorasak might be present but they were nowhere in sight. That was a relief. Nor were there many nobles present. The gathering was small which made matters much easier. Phaulkon had worked out a plan that he now started to put into motion.

At one end of the hall was an alcove with a balcony about seven or eight feet above the floor. A curtain was drawn across the alcove. Phaulkon pointed out to the others that behind the curtain sat King Narai.

Protocol required those who approached the king, when presenting their credentials, must do so on hands and knees. Phaulkon solved this delicate diplomatic impasse by having the ambassador walk with uncovered head to the centre of the hall between the lines of prostrated courtiers and take up his position in front of the king in a chair provided for him, giving the impression that he was lame. The curtain opened and Phaulkon got down on his knees in Siamese fashion, and prostrated himself three times before the king. He bid for the others to do the same, which they did.

As instructed by Phaulkon, Chaumont bowed in the direction of the king and began to read his address in French, which Bishop Laneau translated into English. Phaulkon took over from there. But Phaulkon did not translate exactly as he heard it. He glossed over the religious issues.

When Chaumont finished his speech, he took the royal letter from Abbe de Choisy, and delivered it by hand to the king. There followed an awkward moment. Chaumont, the scoundrel that he was, felt that for him to reach up to the king was a gesture that was derogatory to the dignity of his position as ambassador. He refused to raise the letter higher than the level of his outstretched hand. King Narai tactfully put an end to this impasse by stooping forward and with a smile took the letter in hand. Chaumont felt the victory was his. King Narai on the other hand felt sorry for the invalid who had to reach so far. King Narai conversed through Phaulkon with the French ambassador for an hour, asking about the health of King Louis and the royal family, and what new conquests the French had made. Chaumont replied the last conquest was Luxembourg, which compelled all Europe to sue for peace.

The king asked Chaumont if he and his master were aware of the first Siamese Envoy that perished. Chaumont replied they were and his king was much affected by the tragic news. He further stated that he blamed the tragedy upon the greedy, territory-hungry Dutch. King Narai did not hide his displeasure at hearing this. Nevertheless, perhaps from his dislike of talking about their adversary, he changed the subject by asking if King Louis was satisfied with his trade agreement with Siam, which Chaumont replied with a positive answer. When satisfied with the reply. King Narai ordered that the curtain be closed and the ceremony was over.

Phaulkon gave the embassy officials a tour of the palace, including a visit to see the king’s collection of sacred white elephants, the pride of the country. The French were astounded to see that the elephants were served food and drink in plates and bowls of pure gold. Phaulkon emphasized the importance of elephants in Siamese life and folklore, especially white elephants.

That evening Phaulkon entertained the French at his home in Louvo. Chaumont presented him two precious gifts-the Holy Missal, from the Pope himself, and a Cross from King Louis. Phaulkon expressed his gratitude for the presents, and he took the opportunity to tell Chaumont that he had waited endless months for a copy of the Bible he had sent for but it had not arrived. Chaumont told him that the reason might be that the Pope had forbidden the use of the Bible to the common people. “It is a book hard to understand and requires divine guidance,” Chaumont said. “The Holy Missal is what Catholics must have in its place. This book contains the doctrine and the teachings of the Catholic faith.”

Phaulkon commented that when he was growing up in England, the common people had their own copies of the Holy Book and seemed to understand it without any obstacle. Chaumont arrogantly answered, “That’s why they’re not Catholics! They imagine they can understand scriptures and they question the authority of the Catholic Church.”

Phaulkon decided this was his chance to debate the ambassador with religious matters that plagued him. “How can I converse with King Narai if I am not sure myself?” he asked, but before the ambassador could reply he went on. “If we are to work on the king’s conversion, where do we begin? Is it not logical that we start with the original book, the Holy Book? The Missal is only a book of prayers and songs. The king will have some serious questions he wants answered.”

Chaumont emphatically informed Phaulkon that the Missal included parts of the New Testament. “That’s plenty enough for King Narai,” he said.

After they had parted company, Phaulkon thought to himself what a terrible pity it was that foreigners underestimated King Narai. Little did they know that King Narai was not a man to be satisfied with half answers.

Nor was Phaulkon pleased with Chaumont’s off-handed remarks about the Bible. Phaulkon needed answers, not answers from biased parties, and for these he would need the Bible. Without it, how could he answer the questions that King Narai would certainly ask sooner or later?

Chapter 24A

THE FRENCH ARE COMING,
THE FRENCH ARE COMING

When word reached Ayutthaya of the arrival of the French Embassy down river at Pak Nam, King Narai entrusted Phaulkon with the responsibility of welcoming the Embassy and instructed him to make the necessary preparations for their journey upriver to Ayutthaya. He wanted it to be the most grand welcoming that the Kingdom had ever known.

Phaulkon sent a fleet of elegant Royal Barges to carry the French Embassy upriver to Ayutthaya. The vessels were magnificent and dazzled the French with their tall bows carved in the shapes of mythical animals and winged birds. At Pak Nam the ambassador presented a royal letter from King Louis XIV to the welcoming committee. The Siamese officials accepted the letter with great pomp and ceremony, accompanied by the flourishing of a thousand trumpets and the roar of a thousand drums. A special royal barge was summoned and the letter was placed aboard under a golden canopy. The French officials were dismayed and somewhat taken back. Attention now focused on the letter rather than on them.

The procession upriver began. Along the entire length of the river, on both banks, temples with the multi-tiered roofs and Nagas reaching for the sky glistened in the background; houses were gaily decorated and festooned with colorful banners; trees were adorned with tiny tinsels that caught the rays of the sun, like a billion stars. Brightly plumaged birds fluttered about the branches and playful monkeys swung from branch to branch. The French were awed by the grandness of it all.

The procession grew in size and magnificence as more barges joined the procession along the route. The air was filled with thousands of flutes and the roll of drumbeats. The closer they approached to the capital, the more magnificently dressed were the nobles and envoys sent by the king to greet them at every landing. Flowers, fruit and gifts were brought on board at each stop until there was no more room aboard. The opulence and wealth and the display of abundance was overwhelming. To the eyes of the visitors aboard the flotilla of barges coming upriver Siam was the grandest country in the world.

Accommodation for the dignitaries had been erected at riverside landings every fifteen kilometers, the distance the barge-rowers could cover in one day. Some 20,000 people worked to beautify each of the stations. There were three stations and three stops.

The last landing, a kilometer before Ayutthaya, was at Wat Prote Saht. It was the most elaborate of all the stations. Beautiful Persian and Chinese carpets covered the floors and walkways while silks and brocades hung upon the walls, and everywhere there were wonderful painted silk screens and paper lanterns from Japan. The beds where the guests were to sleep resembled large low tables with intricately carved legs and were covered with luxurious silk cushions. Here, at Wat Prote Saht, Constantine Phaulkon, Luang Wijawendra, Superintendent of Foreign Trade, greeted the arriving guests. He was dressed in fine silk and robes glazed with precious stones that caught the afternoon sunlight and dazzled the eyes of the on-lookers. Upon seeing Phaulkon dressed in his finery. Abbe de Choisy was impressed, exuberantly so, and broke from the others and rushed forth and embraced him shamelessly, like a lover meeting an old friend. He began, admiringly, feeling Phaulkon’s fine garments and his voice gushed with exhilarations. Phaulkon was a bit embarrassed and, sensing this, Abbe de Choisy became even more attentive and once again embraced him with both arms, kissing him again and again on each cheek.

Phaulkon smiled with relief when the letter was brought ashore. Ambassador Chaumont, remembering what happened at Pak Nam, instructed Abbe de Choisy to stand next to him with the letter on the tray so when the officials paid respect to the letter it would be as though they were paying respect to him. Afterwards, the letter was placed in the ambassador’s own apartment, in a golden vase covered with rich brocaded cloth.

Phaulkon dined and entertained the embassy officials lavishly at a vast hall set up for the occasion. A thousand servants, moving about on hands and knees, careful not to rise above any guest, served the food. Their meal was a grand feast as only a king can offer. Golden utensils carried food and drink. Phaulkon provided them the best of European dishes, together with French and Italian wines. Abbe de Choisy, in his flamboyant manner, applauded the meal and excellent wine, but he complained, “All that rice and no bread.”

The next morning before the guests departed for the palace, Phaulkon and the embassy officials met in a private conference. Chaumont praised Phaulkon, telling him his fame had reached all parts of Europe, that he was famous for his integrity and zeal for the advancement of Christianity. Phaulkon said nothing. Seeing that Phaulkon was not impressed, Chaumont came straight to the point. “I must tell you,” he said bluntly, “that the object of this Embassy is to convert King Narai to Catholicism and, for this cause, your assistance and cooperation in persuading the king to accept the Catholic faith is expected.” Phaulkon stared at him in disbelief. He could not believe what he was hearing. Chaumont was not requesting him to cooperate but he was ordering him to cooperate. Chaumont continued with lavish praise. “You look worried, Monsieur Phaulkon, but you need not worry. The royal letter we bring clearly states what King Louis requires from Siam.” To Phaulkon it sounded more like a demand than a desire.

Chaumont continued: “If we succeed, if you succeed, after the conversion of King Narai, you can return with us to Paris, and I shall recommend to His Majesty, King Louis of Prance, to bestow upon you the Knighthood of the Order of St. Michel.”

Those officials who were there and heard the ambassador’s offer to Phaulkon sighed in one loud voice-the Knighthood of the Order of St. Michel. There could be no higher honor.

If Phaulkon was ever an actor, it was now that he had to give his finest performance. He was, of course, disturbed to hear what Chaumont had just said but, being the diplomat that he was, he knew how to play his part well. He had to be careful not to say anything to offend or discourage the French Embassy. A wrong word from him and French-Siamese relations could end right then and there. He would like to have told the truth, that King Narai was interested in the doctrine of the Catholic Church, as he was in Muslim and Hindu doctrines, but he never considered conversion into another faith from his own Buddhism. But Phaulkon was very much aware of the importance of French presence on Siamese soil. “Your Most Excellency,” he began, “this is a great and most noble honor being offered to me and I promise to do everything in my power to help you succeed in your mission.”

Chaumont was very pleased and thanked him, but when he showed Phaulkon the contents of the text of his speech he was planning to make to the king, Phaulkon cringed. The speech was not about trade and friendship between two nations; it was mostly about King Narai accepting the Catholic faith for both him and his kingdom. This wouldn’t do. He had to act quickly. “The king is inclined to Catholicism,” he began slowly, annunciating each word, “but he is surrounded by powerful and influential court officials and ministers who are devout Buddhists, and are, in fact, hostile to the Christian faith. In spite of King Narai’s sincere support to the cause of Christianity, but due to the existing atmosphere in the country, I suggest we proceed cautiously and slowly. It could be dangerous and even life threatening to the king if we do not.”

Chaumont looked at Phaulkon with scorn, like a parent looks upon a disobedient child. Phaulkon found himself facing an angry and peremptory refusal by the ambassador to listen to reason. As a last resort, Phaulkon turned to Bishop Laneau who was standing in the background. In 1673 Father Laneau was consecrated titular Bishop of Metellopolis and appointed the first Vicar Apostolic of Siam. He was a quiet, unpretentious Jesuit teacher who had arrived in Siam with the first missionaries and after more than twenty years he knew the customs and traditions of the Siamese people better than most foreigners. When Phaulkon asked him for his advice, he expressed his opinion that the time was not yet ripe for King Narai’s conversion. He further stated that he was astonished to hear that such an important subject as the king’s conversion had been considered as so simple a matter to the French Embassy.

“I will hear none of this.” Ambassador Chaumont stuttered. “I am here as the appointed ambassador of the King of France and I am to do as I have been instructed.”

Phaulkon realized what the consequences would be if he let the French have their way. He quickly proposed to Chaumont that he be the king’s interpreter, since he was close to the king. Bishop Laneau would interpret from his French into English, and he, Phaulkon, would translate English into royal Siamese for the king. “Thus you can be assured that your message will go forth as you intend it to,” Phaulkon said. Chaumont agreed but he was still not satisfied.

“I have heard about this Eastern protocol,” he said, “and as the representative of King Louis of France, it is beneath my dignity to crawl before any man, king or not.”

Phaulkon was in a dilemma, but he assured Chaumont that he would have protocol modified so he did not have to kneel and prostrate himself before the king, and that he would be allowed to pay his respects to King Narai the European way. He explained he would instruct him what to do when the time arrived. What he didn’t tell him was that he had no idea how he would accomplish this. In Siam it was the absolute and unequivocal honored rule that everyone get down on their knees, with their foreheads touching the ground, when presented to the king.

Chapter 23
A ROYAL LETTER FROM FRANCE

Phaulkon and the Barcalon together entered the king’s chambers and happily announced to the king that the Envoy to France was being made ready to board an English merchant ship at anchor. They confirmed with His Majesty that two Siamese nobles, Pichai Vatee and Pichai Taramaitri and two French missionaries, Vachet and Pascott, were prepared to depart. The missionaries were traveling with the Envoy to serve as interpreters. The king expressed joy over their good works and said he was pleased. He thanked them profusely and then announced that he had thought long and hard about the mission and co show his gratitude and his pending friendship with King Louis IV of France he wanted to send a few special gifts to His Majesty. He enumerated them: two baby elephants, two young rhinoceroses, two musk deer, seven crates of sandalwood and other things like ostrich feathers that were unknown in France. The king also wanted to send six Siamese students to learn the ways and culture of the west. Pichai Vatee and Pichai Taramaitri would carry with them a letter from the Barcalon to the French Minister of Trade. The king was concerned that there might not be sufficient space for the animals. Phaulkon went to the ship to check the holds and then assured the king there was space

Phaulkon also advised the king that His Majesty needed to write to the French king personally, to establish not just trade relations but a royal relationship as well. He explained the importance of such a friendship. He pointed out to the king that England’s only interest in Siam was business. France’s relationship with Siam was business, certainly, but it was also something more. It was prestige for France, to have a strong ally in the East like Siam, and for Siam it was security. France was the only nation in the West willing to provide Siam with military armament. By Siam showing it had strong ties with France, the English and the Dutch would have second thoughts about attempting to extend their control over Siam. Phaulkon explained that Siam could very well serve as a buffer state among the warring nations of Europe. “Promise them everything,” he said, “and give them nothing. After all, that is the general practice of politics in Europe.”

”And what makes you think that Asia is any different,” King Narai said with a smile.

Before the ship sailed, the missionary brothers in Ayutthaya coached Vachet and Pascott and instructed them to inform both the King of France and the Pope about King Narai’s kindness and generosity to all the French missionaries in Siam, and, unbeknown to Phaulkon, they were to tell the French king and the Pope that there was strong evidence that King Narai seemed to be inclined towards the Christian faith. Furthermore, King Louis and the Pope should continue their support if they so desired to declare the Kingdom of Siam as the centre of Eastern Christianity.

Members from the Siamese royal family, officials from the court, almost everyone from the foreign community, Phaulkon and the Barcalon and throngs of curious bystanders were at the riverside docks to see the vessel, carrying the Mission of the Second Envoy and the king’s assortment of animals and gifts, cast off its mooring lines and set sail down the River Menam on the first leg of its long and perilous journey to Europe. It was, in spite of the apprehension after the tragic failure of the first envoy, a joyous farewell with the banks of the river lined with cheering and waving Siamese and with fireworks streaking across the sky overhead.

Phaulkon and Marie were enjoying an evening in their new home in Louvo, after the hectic day at the docks in Ayutthaya, when Fanique arrived in a huff from Ayutthaya. No sooner had he entered the house than he began complaining bitterly that he did not see Phaulkon at church any more. Phaulkon was quick to defend himself, saying he was pressed with very important matters of the state. Fanique argued that nothing could be more important than God. Marie attempted to pacify her father saying her husband was under great stress with the French and the Muslims pounding at their doorstep. Marie promised her father that he would see them both at church in Ayutthaya the coming Sunday.

But Fanique was not pacified. He persisted in the fatuous belief that a little lecturing in this case was necessary. He began to criticize Marie for her love of money more than her love for God. “I didn’t bring you up to show off with your grand fancy house and your servants and your guards,” he scolded.

“My dear Father,” Marie said with all calmness, “the house comes with my husband’s position, that he is the King’s Favorite, and his position requires a certain lifestyle. Besides, Father, my husband works hard for what we have. I barely see him. He is forever attending to the king and to his duties as the Minister of Trade for Siam. We need servants not for me but for entertaining guests that my husband’s position demands. And since my husband is barely home, the guards are for my protection.” She was very forceful and convincing in her speech, and her father listened with great care.

But he was still concerned.

“You even speak like your husband now,” he said in response, “and before you know it, you will turn against the Church.”

Phaulkon spoke up as Fanique was leaving. “I may be against some of the principles taught by the Church but I am not against God.”

“They are both the same, are they not?” Fanique said and left before Phaulkon could say more.

As he drove away in his carriage to the boat landing to board the ferry that would take him back to Ayutthaya, Fanique looked back at the house, and he may have been angered but he was proud too. Maybe he was too stern with his daughter and her husband. The results of their success were obvious, he reasoned.

After his father-in-law had left, Phaulkon sat staring into space for the longest time. Marie took him in her arms and comforted him with kind words, and they poured out their hearts to one another. “Constantine, you must be patient with my father,” she began and told him how her father had always wanted the best for her.

Religious Confusion

Phaulkon then aired his own thoughts. He came to the eternal problem that was really bothering him, and one for which he had no answer. He asked Marie how important was the Catholic faith to her. He asked if she would still love him if he weren’t Catholic. Did it honestly make her happy for them to appear in church even though she was aware that he was not happy making a show to please others.

“Am I happy to be in church with you? The answer is yes,” she said. “As for making a show for others, only time will tell.”

“But time is also now,” he persisted. “Time is right now. I need to know the truth. I am confused, Marie, I am confused. I believe in God, yes a Christian God, but not in the doctrine the Catholics teach. Why do I feel this way? Do I feel guilty? Yes, I am guilty for being hypocritical when it comes to advising the king, that I believe one thing and say something else.”

“Tell me then,” she asked, “what is the difference between believing in God and believing in the Catholic doctrine? Are they not one and the same?”

“How can it be when the Vatican sanctions the Crusades, or the Spanish Inquisition and now the persecution of the Protestants in France, all in the name of a Christian god. They all have the same God, but why do they fight about their beliefs? My heart tells me something is wrong, that I am not being honest.” He thought for a moment. “My heart has never been wrong. My heart guided me to this land that I love and to the woman I love. Surely my heart should not be wrong in matters of God. I must trust my heart.”

“Trust in your heart,” Marie said and curled up in his arms.

Phaulkon was at a loss for words. “Yes,” he said softly, “I will trust my heart.”

Phaulkon sincerely hoped that he would find a copy of the Bible and then he could better explain things to Marie. He needed that book. He was, nevertheless, thankful that Marie was understanding.

“When you find the answers I will listen,” Marie said. Again she reminded him that she had loved him long before he became a Catholic. Before she became his wife, she was, by Japanese tradition, her father’s property. “It was my father’s demand that unless you converted to Catholicism, I could not marry you,” she said. “But now I am your wife and your property.”

Phaulkon took Marie by the shoulders and shook her, not violently but softly. “You are neither my property nor anyone else’s,” he said. “I did not become your husband to own you nor to dictate to you.” He explained he loved her for who she was and it was his heart, not religion, that dictated to him his love for her. “Is this too much to expect from you?” he asked.

“Please do not forget,” she said. “I am Asian and it is not easy to change what has been instilled in me since birth.”

Phaulkon laughed. “I wonder what the Bible will have to say about that?” he said.

“You must remember, my loving husband, I also want to know the truth. And I must admit that you have put some doubts in my mind too. But isn’t God supposed to unite people in love? At least that’s what the priests say.” She hugged him dearly. “I will always love you, and nothing can take us apart. Remember? Not kings, not even God. Remember.”

The baby began crying in his crib. Marie picked him up and gently handed him to his father.

Phaulkon waited desperately for a packet ship to bring news about the Envoy’s safe arrival in France. Along with King Narai’s letter to King Louis, he had sent by Pichai Vatee’s hand the letter from the Barcalon to the French Minister of Trade asking for the procedure for preparing a trade alliance between the two countries. He wondered if there would there be a need for additional preparations for a royal audience, and this worried him. Was he stepping over the line? Everything would depend upon the adeptness of the two Siamese nobles, Pichai Vatee and Pichai Taramaitri.

Camouflaged Danger

At last a ship arrived in Ayutthaya bearing news from France, and it was all good. Monsieur Colbert, the French Minister, did arrange for the Siamese envoy to discuss with King Louis the matter of their mission. The meeting took place at Versailles Palace. Phaulkon hurriedly reported to King Narai the content of the message. He read with pleasure that during dinner the Siamese envoy informed King Louis of the earnest desire of their master, the King of Siam, for friendship between the two countries. They reminded King Louis that Siam had already sent one envoy but it had been shipwrecked. The nobles also informed the King of France that if he desired to send an envoy to Ayutthaya, the King of Siam would be deeply gratified and would welcome it with honor. The very mention of this excited King Narai. He was overwhelmed a few weeks later when another dispatch arrived stating that King Louis agreed to send an envoy with help and support for the Kingdom of Siam. Vachet and Pascott stated that the French mission would be much more than an Envoy; King Louis of France would send an ambassador and an embassy staff and establish diplomatic relations with Siam. It further stated that the French ambassador and the embassy staff would accompany the Siamese Envoy on their return to Siam. King Narai was overwhelmed how rapidly a diplomatic exchange was taking place. . .

In still another dispatch, Vachet and Pascott informed King Narai that they had confided with King Louis that his help and support for Siam was not in vain. They told King Louis that King Narai was very kind and generous to the French missionaries and the Jesuits, and he seemed inclined to embrace the Catholic faith. This last dispatch annoyed Phaulkon greatly. It was an assumption they had made without a foundation. They had informed King Louis that Constantine Phaulkon, the Greek Favorite of King Narai, was a powerful man in the kingdom and a convert to Catholicism and that he was in full support of the French alliances. King Louis, of course, already knew this about Phaulkon but still he was very impressed with what the missionaries had to report. The Pope would be pleased to hear it too, King Louis reiterated. Phaulkon was somewhat disappointed that there was no mention in the letter about any of the missionaries from Siam having private discussions with the King of France.

Vachet and Pascott were informed that King Louis had chosen an ambassador and an assistant to Siam, and they were called to present themselves to Vachet and Pascott. They entered the reception room, the Chevalier de Chaumont, the first ambassador to Siam, and the Abbe de Choisy, his assistant. What the letters didn’t say was that Chaumont was terribly aloof and haughty. But, as King Louis made note, he was the scion of one of the most ancient families of France and a recent convert himself to Catholicism. One might say he was the worst type of convert; he became a religious fanatic.

The Chevalier de Chaumont and Abbe de Choisy were a strange combination. Abbe de Choisy too was a convert, but there their similarities stopped. Abbe de Choisy was a reformed transvestite, which was instantly obvious by his effeminate manner. He once went under the guise of the Countess des Barres, the widow of a deceased earl. After a severe illness he retired to the seminary of the Societe des Missions Etrangeres and entered the Catholic order. His appointed task upon arrival in Siam was to give King Narai religious instruction.

King Louis was sending not only an ambassador and embassy staff but also skilled missionaries as well to help build-in King Louis’ own words-a strong Siam. Among them, having learned of King Narai’s keen interests in astronomy, were six Jesuit astronomers, one of who was Father Guy Tachard, and with them the latest scientific equipment. But all this did not come without conditions and a price. King Louis warned that Siam must listen to the Jesuits and accept their doctrine. If Siam wanted to be a friend of France, they had to learn and accept French ways. Their priority was to convert King Narai to Catholicism and Chaumont and Choisy were to remain in Siam as long as it took to baptize King Narai. Their mission, unbeknownst to the Siamese, nor to Phaulkon, was religion and not trade. The ambassador had been well versed on his duties. Failure would mean his disgrace and he was determined not to let this happen.

The French Embassy and the Siamese Envoy, with the Embassy’s secret documents to King Narai, sailed for Siam aboard two French men-of-wars under the command of Lieutenant de Forbin. En route they made a stop at the Dutch settlement at the Cape of Good Hope. Father Guy Tachard went ashore and in the short time that they were there he was able to establish an observatory near the VOC Gardens. He attempted to establish the longitude, but was unable to derive a useful co-ordinate due to bad weather and the lack of time. The mission had to be on its way.

The French expedition arrived with great fanfare at the mouth of the River Menam. King Narai, of course, was pleased that the King of France had responded to his request for better relations between the two countries, and Phaulkon, his Minister of Trade, was pleased that things were turning out the way they were. But unfortunately those joyous feelings would not be long lasting. Once Phaulkon read the secret letter, he had a decision to make. How would he explain the French demands to King Narai?

Chapter 22
CONVERSATIONS WITH A MANDARIN

The Barcalon seated in his regal surroundings welcomed William Strangh and his assistants to his chambers. Strangh was taken by surprise. He had not expected that he had to sit upon the floor and look up at the Barcalon seated upon a dragon-carved bench covered with animal skins. Nor did he expect his host to be clad in a sarong, without shirt and only a brocaded vest covering his upper torso. And, of course, proper Englishman that he was, he didn’t like the tea that was offered to him. He preferred tea served in a cup rather than shallow bowl. Nevertheless it was business he had to attend to and he would let protocol stand to one side.

It was an awkward few minutes. No one spoke. Finally, wondering if the Barcalon spoke English, Strangh said. “You speakie English?”

After a moment’s hesitation, the Barcalon spoke up, saying, “Speakie little little. You come welcome my house.” He excused himself, explaining his English was not good, and through broken words asked if Strangh and his friends minded if an advisor joined them. “Him speakie good English,” the Barcalon added.

Strangh said he didn’t mind and, in fact, he welcomed another person, another voice. The Barcalon nodded the acknowledgement and explained that the advisor would be along “quick, quick.” In the meantime, while awaiting the advisor’s arrival, they attempted, in fractured English, to communicate in a child-like conversation that amused the Barcalon immensely. Pointing to Strangh’s nose, the Barcalon proudly said, “nose,” and then to his ear, he said “ear,” and then laughed heartily, rubbing his protruding belly at the same time. It was absurd and Strangh was rapidly losing his patience. But presently a servant announced that someone had arrived. At last, an interpreter, Strangh thought. No more stupid language lessons. He and his assistants turned their attention toward the door and, when they did, Strangh’s mouth dropped wide open in disbelief. Entering the room, dressed in his Siamese robe, was Phaulkon. Strangh was aghast. The Barcalon stood up, which he hadn’t done for Strangh and his men, and, to Strangh’s chagrin, he introduced Phaulkon not by his name but by his tide, Luang Wijawendra, Superintendent of Foreign Trade. When Phaulkon was comfortably settled, he announced that he would translate for the Barcalon.

Strangh could not control his dissatisfaction. “How do l know what you are saying is correct?” he questioned.

“I guess you don’t,” Phaulkon said.

Nevertheless, Strangh stood his ground. He complained vehemently, through Phaulkon to the Barcalon, about Phaulkon, about his abuses and about his improper trade practices. Phaulkon had to admire him for his tenacity. Phaulkon translated into Tai, word for word, exactly as Strangh spoke his lines. The Barcalon feigned to listen but he couldn’t stop yawning. It was embarrassing for everyone there, everyone except the Barcalon. He was finding it amusing and didn’t realize how bored he looked to the others. Phaulkon finally said they were wasting enough of the Barcalon’s time and, if there was anything more Strangh wanted to say, he could register his complaints at his office.

Suddenly Strangh spoke out. “Tell the Barcalon that I must see the king,” he demanded. Phaulkon told the Barcalon what he had said.

“Yes, yes, the king,” the Barcalon replied. “You come bye-bye ‘gain, see king.” He then thanked Phaulkon and everyone for coming and dismissed the meeting. He threw himself on the couch and was preparing to sleep when the door closed.

Although Phaulkon won the round, Strangh did not admit defeat. He insisted upon talking to the king in person, with or without the Barcalon’s help. He went so far as to travel to Louvo in an attempt to reach the king at his summer palace but he could not even get past the gate. It was a futile attempt and finally in total despair he had to give up. He placed blame on the system. “This would not happen in England,” he declared.

Strangh came to the realization that he was wasting his time. The humiliation was more than he could bear and, as he put it, he wanted to be free from “these pagans.” He said to everyone he had to move on to better things. He turned his attention to his cargo-valuable English fabrics, once very much sought after in Asia. He was compelled to sell the cloth before he could return to England, as he was counting on the proceeds to finance his voyage home. But he could not find buyers. The merchants had heard of his demands upon the king and of his troubles with Phaulkon, and they refrained from doing business with him regardless of whatever bargain he offered. He became even more frustrated.

Phaulkon confessed to Thamnon one afternoon when they were strolling in his teacher’s garden that he did not mean to be abusive or unreasonable. He just didn’t like the East India Company making demands on Siam, telling the kingdom with whom it could and could not trade. He especially disliked Strangh showing disrespect to the crown. Phaulkon said someone had to teach the Englishman the Eastern meaning of respect. “It’s not only Strangh,” Phaulkon said, “but I fear it’s others too, the very people who helped me reach the position I now have. I am grateful for what they have done but I do not like it when they take advantage of my position.”

“Your problem is nothing new,” Thamnon said. “It’s the case of the student becoming better than his teacher; the son who outshines his father who had taught him. Life is this way.”

“You may be right,” Phaulkon replied, “but it doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“You feel remorse and that is good,” Thamnon said, “but perhaps that is not enough.” He suggested that Phaulkon make amends with Strangh. His advice did not please Phaulkon. Phaulkon laughed to himself-the student who knows better than his teacher. Thamnon was a master of didactic reasoning but he did not understand the ways of Europeans. Some things Phaulkon had to conclude himself.

“Britishness”

Still, Phaulkon attempted to heed his teacher’s suggestion. When he learned of Strangh’s difficulties unloading his cargo, he sent a message to him and gave him advice as to what to do, hoping Strangh would realize that he was not an enemy. He called for Strangh to come to his office. When Strangh did, he informed him he could store his cargo of British fabrics-that no merchant wanted to buy-in his own warehouse, at no cost to him. “You can do this until ships with cargoes of copper arrive from Japan. You can then exchange doth for copper. Your cloth has a market in Japan.” Strangh looked at him with amusement. Phaulkon continued. “Meanwhile, while waiting for the ships with copper to arrive, you can purchase goods on the open market, carry them to India and sell them there, thus not wasting your time.”

“You cannot be serious,” Strangh said. “What do you take me for? I must remind you, I am not a common merchant. I am here on behalf of my government, as an agent, not a clerk.”

Phaulkon had momentarily forgotten that Strangh was an arrogant snob. The Englishman wanted to do things his way or not at all. Then what astounded Phaulkon most was what Strangh had to say next.

“You have your warehouse filled with copper,” he said; “then if you are such a clever businessman, why don’t you trade with me now, doth for copper?”

“That I cannot do,” Phaulkon said. “I have promised the interlopers I would trade the copper with them.”

Strangh lost his temper. “Interlopers, interlopers,” he stormed. “I object to Siam trading with interlopers over the East India Company.”

Phaulkon quickly reminded him that interlopers are Englishmen too, engaged in free trade. Both interlopers and East India Company represent England. Phaulkon calmly explained the reason he gave interlopers preference. “They have respect for the authority in Siam,” he said. ‘Tm sure that you, or anyone else for that matter, would feel the same way, if you were in my position.”

Strangh was not a man to reason with, which Phaulkon had concluded long before this. In a final fit of anger Strangh announced that he was going to have the English factories in Siam dosed down. He expected Phaulkon to reconsider but, this time, the Greek did not. “The decision is yours,” Phaulkon said in rebuttal.

The East India Company ship Delight arrived in Ayutthaya en route to China. Aboard were two agents for the company, Peter Crouch and John Thomas. When they heard the stories about Strangh’s mistreatment and his decision to have the factories dosed, they were very sympathetic with him. Aboard Delight was a shipment of nails bound for China. Nails were a priceless commodity in the East, and when King Narai got wind of the shipment, he wanted some of the cargo for his construction sites. Phaulkon requested Crouch and Thomas to supply the Siamese Government with a portion of the nails. Because of their bitterness towards Phaulkon, they refused and used the excuse that their cargo was prepaid by merchants in China. Phaulkon sent a messenger the next day to remind them that the request for the nails came from the King of Siam himself, and they were in Siamese waters. The Englishmen still refused. For defying the King’s orders, Phaulkon had no alternative but to have them arrested and put in prison until they supplied the nails. Incarcerated, they still refused. After no food for several days, they gave in. Their treatment was a shock to the English community but, distasteful as it might have been, Phaulkon knew that such action was necessary. He had to prove that the king did not show favoritism.

William Strangh sailed away aboard Delight with his cargo to China, hoping the Chinese merchants would be impressed with the goods. Before he departed the Kingdom of Siam he sent a letter of protest to England, and delivered a copy, presented by him in person, to the Barcalon. The letter accused Phaulkon of being responsible for the fire at the warehouse, for his abusive conduct and threatening behavior to foreigners, for his imprisoning of innocent people, and that he, Phaulkon, was liable to answer to the King of England for all the damages and ill feelings he had caused.

Strangh was shocked when he handed the letter to the Barcalon and he began reading it. “I am surprised,” Strangh said, “that you can read English.”

The Barcalon got up from his dragon-carved bench, the one draped with animal skins, and did what he seldom did. He walked Strangh to the door.

“Yes, of course,” he replied in precise English, pointing first to Strangh’s nose and then to his ear. “Remember what I said, this was my nose and that was my ear.” He twitched Strangh’s ear. “You make an excellent teacher.” Then, as Strangh, completely speechless, was stepping out the door, the Barcalon added, “You must hurry. You don’t want to be late and miss your ship. That would be a tragedy, causing you to remain longer in the kingdom than you wish. Oh, I forgot. You can always teach. You are such a good teacher.” He then twitched his own ear and bid Strangh bye-bye.

Burnaby arrived from Mergui as soon as he heard rumors that Phaulkon was out of control. The King’s Favorite, some said, was losing his mind, putting Englishmen in prison. He went promptly to see Phaulkon and told him that his hatred for the East India Company was getting out of hand. Phaulkon corrected him, saying his hatred was not against the East India Company but against those who showed disrespect for the King. It didn’t matter, he exclaimed, who the culprit might be- Strangh, interlopers, Chinese, Portuguese, Arabs, all would be reprimanded the same way. “If I let them get away with it,” he said, “the Siamese would think I am partial. My position does not allow me to be partial.”

When Strangh finally returned to England, months later, he had the Head Office of the East India Company write to all English in Siam advising them to leave the country. None of them left. They chose to remain and work with Phaulkon.

Chapter 21C
THE KING’S FAVORITE TAKES HIS STAND

“Only doing my duty,” Phaulkon replied politely. “Nothing more, just duty, that’s all.” It took great effort for Phaulkon to remain calm and passive.

Potts beamed with satisfaction. Here finally, he thought, was a man who could match wits with Phaulkon.

“You understand, I have to deal directly with the king,” Strangh said. He made it sound like a threat. By his tone he wanted it made clear he was not from the British under class of workers and peasants. He meant business. He was not a subaltern.

“Certainly,” Phaulkon replied. “With due respect you want to deal with His Majesty directly and I assume no one else. That’s very admirable of you.” Phaulkon hesitated, preparing himself for the next round, and then asked, ”And what is this other mission you have that Mr. Potts mentioned?”

“Mr. Yale and I have been instructed to investigate the fire and the loss of EiC goods,” he replied.

“I see, that’s what it is,” Phaulkon remarked coldly. He could no longer refrain himself. “Then maybe your investigation should begin with Mr. Potts.”

Potts Hew into a terrible rage. ”And what do you mean by that uncalled for remark?” he demanded.

“Perhaps we can go over these matters in a more amicable surrounding,” Phaulkon said. “Why don’t you all come to my home in Louvo for dinner this evening?” Strangh thought it was a commendable idea but it took a bit of cajoling on his part to convince Potts to agree. Finally they accepted. Phaulkon arranged for a klong boat to take them to Louvo where a carriage would await them.

The dinner was a lavish affair with Marie being the gracious hostess. Upon seeing her, as lovely as she was, dressed in her finest silk kimono of a beautiful beige color, Strangh oozed with charm and oiled with flattery. He even remarked, with authority, that the wine was acceptable. The meal was over and brandy poured when Strangh brought up the subject of the fire. He asked Phaulkon what he knew about it.

“Are you certain you want me to tell you?” Phaulkon asked.

“Of course, why not?” he said. Potts suddenly grew tense and quickly attempted to change the subject. He didn’t succeed.

“Then I must tell you that all the evidence I have been able to uncover points to Mr. Potts, the gentleman sitting here.”

“This is a joke,” Strangh said. “You can’t be serious.”

“But I am serious,” Phaulkon replied, his demeanor having completely changed. “I have a witness who saw what happened.” Everyone in the room fell silent. All conversation stopped. Potts finally spoke up. He had two words to say: “Paid witness.”

“You had better be prepared to back up what you declare,” Strangh threatened. “I do not intend to get involved in rumors and accusations. I came to Siam to talk to the king about England’s new trade policy. England sent me to make a treaty with the king in which Siam is to buy thirty-thousand pounds worth of goods every year from England in cash. Also, I might add, that England does not intend to deal with the interlopers. If Siam insists, the English will close their factories in Siam.”

Phaulkon had enough. “England has no right to dictate how Siam should trade with other nations,” he said. He then reminded Strangh that Siam’s trade policy would remain the same, and that he, Strangh, must follow Siam’s trade regulations by offering his goods first to the treasury before he offered them to the open market.

Strangh, now in anger, reminded Phaulkon that he had not come to Siam to discuss this matter with him nor anyone else but only with the king himself. He further stated, getting up from the table, that he did not need Phaulkon’s help to make an appointment with the king. He could request an audience by himself. “I am on a diplomatic mission,” he shouted. “You don’t seem to understand that.”

Phaulkon’s anger reached a high pitch when Strangh criticized him for being a traitor, and for his forgetting that if it was not for the East India Company he would not be where he was now. He also criticized Phaulkon for his lack of being a gentleman, for dressing up like a Siamese and living like one of these pagans when he was a Christian and not Siamese. He accused Phaulkon of being nothing more than a pretender and a traitor.

Phaulkon did not defend himself, which came as a surprise to everyone there. He knew that action was more important than words. His action was yet to come. He thanked his guests for coming and announced that a boat was waiting to take them back to Ayutthaya. Without more said, Strangh and his companions left.

That night Marie comforted her husband. She told him that Strangh was wrong. “I think my husband is very handsome in his Siamese garments,” she said. Taking his hands and standing back, while looking at him admiringly, she continued, “It is only fitting for you to dress as you do. After all, you do work in Siamese courts. You would stand out more as a foreigner if you dressed differently than anyone else.”

“You are wonderful,” Phaulkon said to his loving wife and kissed her warmly.

Strangh, Yale and their companions spent the night aboard Mexico Merchant. The next morning Potts went to see them to tell them that Phaulkon was only speaking for himself, to save his own skin, and that the Barcalon did not readily agree with Phaulkon. Potts added that if they wanted an appointment with the Barcalon, he could arrange one. Furthermore, he added, the Barcalon would certainly like to meet Strangh and his team.

Word reached Phaulkon about Potts attempting to intercede with the king on behalf of Strangh. Phaulkon knew what the outcome would be. No one sees the king except through him. But that was not what bothered Phaulkon; His concern was with Potts and his arrogant behavior. It was time he acted before Potts did more damage. He had let it go on too long, hoping, perhaps, that it might go away by itself. But that wasn’t going to happen. Acting quickly now that he made up his mind that something had to be done, he ordered the police to search Potts’ storehouse for contraband, which they did. Unfortunately for Potts, they found much of the stolen property from the warehouse that burned. Phaulkon instructed his guards to have Potts arrested. A squad of armed soldiers marched Potts to prison, his head in a yoke, his arms tied behind his back with lengths of bamboo lashed together with strips of rattan. A few days later, knowing he had achieved his purpose, Phaulkon authorized the release of Potts. Phaulkon knew all the while that Potts was responsible for the fire. He had procrastinated in arresting Potts hoping he would make amends himself for his wrongdoings. But he didn’t. Phaulkon had to display to Strangh and Yale, and to others who looked to him for favors, that he was not merely a figurehead holding office, nor a toady for the crown. He had to show that he meant business. He did what he had to, but in doing so, he shocked other Europeans living in the kingdom. His was a nasty business. How did he end up this way, he asked himself many times. He was not out to enrich himself, or to make a name. All he wanted to do was to come to Siam and live peacefully away from the troubled world that he had known. He was disheartened by the wars in Europe and the French with their edicts denouncing the Protestants. Now it seemed all the trouble of Europe followed him to Siam.

When Potts was still in prison, Phaulkon sent for Strangh and Yale and warned them that unless the East India Company took Siam seriously instead of dictating and imposing their own trade policies, neither the king nor his ministers would be interested in what they had to say. Phaulkon reminded Strangh that even France, who had a longer trade history with Siam than the East India Company, did not dictate to the king. In fact, France sent their missionaries to help develop Siam. The King of France wrote to the King of Siam thanking him for the protection accorded to French traders and missionaries. England, he said, had no care for Siam. Why should the East India Company be so forceful in their demands?

Strangh announced emphatically to Phaulkon, as he was preparing to leave the office, that he would discuss these matters with the Barcalon and King Narai personally. They were the real authorities in Siam, not an upstart cabin boy.

“You English have a lot to learn,” Phaulkon said to Strangh as he was leaving the office.

“We’ll see about that,” Strangh replied and left.

The next day Strangh received word that the Barcalon was ready to see him. Strangh was proud to announce to everyone that he was meeting with the Barcalon and mostly likely shortly after with King Narai himself. He stated he would inform the Barcalon about Phaulkon’s abuse of power and how he, not Potts, was responsible for the burning of the East India Company warehouse, for it was he who wanted to destroy company records. This was what Potts had informed him. Before seeing the Barcalon, Strangh explained to his associates his plan of operation. He said he would be straightforward with the Barcalon. As a result of Potts’ investigation, he must recommend that the East India Company no longer do business with Siam as long as Phaulkon was in charge of trade. He would insist that the East India Company close down their factories in Siam and seek its business elsewhere. “Maybe then Siam will come to its senses,” he stressed. Strangh’s companions, those who had been in Siam any length of time, attempted to talk him out of being too harsh, and asked that he be sensible about the whole thing. They asked him not to let his dislike for Phaulkon ruin the privileges already granted to the East India Company in Siam. But Strangh answered that he was not afraid of Phaulkon, nor anybody, and that he must speak the truth and let the world know the English will not trade with corrupt nations. “This is the British way, the only way, to teach others a lesson,” he said. He put on his best white uniform with all its gold braid, placed his peaked cap squarely upon his head, and marched off to see the Barcalon.

Chapter 21B
Admirable-Scary King Louis XIV

King Narai told Phaulkon he would give it some thought, then dismissed him and retired to his chamber. He needed time to be alone. He did have a lot on his mind about King Louis XIV of France, even before Phaulkon mentioned him. He had been both baffled and amused by the stories he heard about the French monarch. He and King Louis were so different and yet they were so much alike. He pondered long and hard over his relationship with the French king. He listened keenly to what the missionaries had to say about “The Sun King,” a title that bothered King Narai greatly. Why was he called “The Sun King,” a title reserved for Eastern rulers? The reports about King Louis had been often confusing, mostly those that were presented to him by foreign missionaries. English missionaries, of course, didn’t always agree with the French Jesuits. King Narai had to make his own judgments. He learned that King Louis’ parents, Louis XIII of France and Anne of Austria, had been childless for twenty-three years, and upon the birth of Louis regarded him as a divine gift; hence he was christened “Louis-Dieudonne” or “God-given.” Louis acceded to the throne in 1642, a few months before his fifth birthday, but did not assume actual personal control of the government until the death of his First Minister in 1661, when Louis was twenty-three years old. King Narai admired him for how quickly he took control and increased his power and the influence of France in Europe, fighting one war after another, and in short time he established himself as an absolute monarch. Under his reign, France achieved military pre-eminence over the continent. King Narai was aware of the king’s cultural achievements that contributed to the prestige of France, and this too he admired. One thing that no one could deny, through Louis XIV’s veins ran the blood of many of Europe’s royal houses.

King Narai was pleased when he found that he and King Louis had something in common. Like himself, King Louis was a generous supporter of the arts, dispensing large sums of money to finance the royal court. He was a patron of the arts and funded libraries and many cultural programs. And he had constructed the Chateau de Versailles, the largest and most extravagant monument in Europe, extolling a king and his country. Versailles served as a dazzling and awe-inspiring setting for state affairs and for the reception of foreign dignitaries, the Siamese envoy included. As Narai was later to learn from his envoys, court life centered on magnificence; courtiers lived lives of expensive luxury, dressed with suitable magnificence and constantly attended balls, dinners, performances, and celebrations.

What King Narai did find alarming about Louis XIV was that outside Europe, French colonies abroad were multiplying in the Americas and Africa, and it could be that the French king had designs on Southeast Asia. It was possible. France had laid claim to the basin of the Mississippi River in North America while French Jesuits and missionaries were seen at the Manchu Court in China. It was obvious to the world that Louis XIV succeeded in establishing and increasing the influence and central authority of the King of France, but he did it at the expense of the Church. He sought to reinforce traditional Gallicanism with a declaration limiting the authority of the Pope in France. The power of the King of France was increased in contrast to the power of the Pope, which was reduced. Conflicts with the Pope flared up. The Pope for obvious reasons did not accept the declaration. About this, King Narai had much to discuss with Phaulkon.

King Narai found it amusing when he learned more about King Louis’s private life. King Narai was aware that the kings of Siam were criticized widely, especially by the church, for their keeping a harem of courtesans in the palace. When Narai learned that King Louis had many amours, he remarked to Phaulkon one day that the only difference was that the kings of France dispatched their mistresses whereas the kings of Siam kept theirs locked up in hiding where they could do no harm. King Narai found it even more amusing when he heard that although King Louis was not faithful to Queen Marie-Therese, it was said that he performed his marital duties every night and still kept all his mistresses happy and, for certain, there were many, all with hyphenated names and tides-Louise La Valliere, Duchesse de Vaujours; Francoise-Athenais de Rochechouart de Mortemart, marquise de Montespan and Marie-Angelique de Scoraille, Duchesse de Fontanges.

What King Narai couldn’t understand was the influence Louis XIV’s second wife, Madame de Maintenon, had on him, the king of France. Once a Protestant, she had converted to Roman Catholicism.

She then turned against the Protestants and vigorously promoted their persecution. She urged Louis XIV to revoke the Edict of Nantes, which granted a degree of religious freedom to the Huguenots. The whole affair baffled King Narai and he and Phaulkon spent hours mulling over the situation. Phaulkon explained that Louis attempted to achieve a religiously united France by issuing another edict in March 1685.

Indeed, there was much King Narai wanted to ask King Louis, so much so that he grew weary at the thought and fell asleep thinking about it.

Phaulkon was at his office early every morning, attending to urgent business matters first. But then all matters appeared to be urgent. He could hardly step through the door without being assaulted by ministers and assistants, ships’ captains and mates, officers from the EIC, interlopers, all bombarding him with questions, all clamoring at once for his attention. One interest that everyone shared was the king’s coming mission to France. They felt by endorsing the mission they could gain much merit with the king. It was on one such morning during the busiest of times that Samuel Potts marched into the office announcing that he was on urgent business, demanding that he be given immediate attention. He was jubilant and lost no time in telling Phaulkon why. He proudly announced that waiting at the East India Company office in town were two gentlemen and he was assigned to serve as their escort. They were Englishmen who stepped ashore that very morning from the Mexico Merchant, an East India Company ship bringing valuable cargo from Europe. Potts gave their names, William Strangh and Thomas Yale.

“You must know who these men are,” Potts said to Phaulkon. “Never heard of them,” Phaulkon remarked.

“Well, I am sure you will,” he said sarcastically. “They are very important.”

“I am sure they are, to have you escort them,” Phaulkon said. “Do I dare ask what their purpose might be or is it not my concern?” “They were sent here to obtain a contract to supply the Siamese government with goods to the value of some thirty-thousand pounds a year,” Potts proudly announced. “Mr. Strangh intends to see the king in person. And there’s more.”

”And what might that be?” Phaulkon asked.

“They came to investigate the burning down of the company’s warehouse,” Potts replied.

Phaulkon’s anger Hared up but his thoughts remained hidden. He merely told Potts he’d like to meet these two men. He did not mention his own investigation of the fire that was in progress.

The two men, William Strangh and Thomas Yale, escorted by Samuel Potts, came to Phaulkon’s office that same afternoon. Thomas Yale was nondescript and you could lose him in a crowd of three. William Strangh, on the other hand, stood out like a white elephant. He was a shoulder and a head above everyone else, with the whitest of white skin. He was tall and slender and carried himself like a prince. Indeed, at a first glance, one gathered that he thought of himself as such, a prince. But he had no regal blood in his veins. He was pompous and, as Phaulkon later learned, a self-made man. His dress gave him the added appearance of someone of importance. He was sartorially immaculate. His clothes fit as though he had grown into them. He spoke with a precise English accent and his manner proclaimed him-a snob. Phaulkon knew the best way to deal with him was to humor him.

Strangh was quick to announce that he wanted to see the king as soon as possible. Phaulkon politely explained that he would have to make such arrangements through the Barcalon.

“Mr. Strangh has never been to the Far East nor to Siam and he knows nothing of the country or its people,” Potts said in Strangh’s defense. “Until I arrived I didn’t even know that your Hat-u-ta is the capital,” he said, deliberately mispronouncing the name. He tried to make it sound that Ayutthaya was of no importance to the world. Like a wild river surging below, Phaulkon did everything possible to abate his anger. Strangh continued, adding a further slur at Phaulkon, “And what brings a white man like you to a place like this?”

Chapter 21A
Envoy to France Lost at Sea

The baptism should have been a happy affair. Everyone had looked forward to it. For Phaulkon and Marie, especially Marie, it was to be a great event with every detail planned well in advance. A number of people had been invited and they all came bearing gifts and good wishes. Most proud, of course, was Fanique, the infant’s grandfather. He now had a grandson to carry on his tradition, if not his name. And there was George White and his lady Myra, and Phaulkon’s mentor, Richard Burnaby. Samuel White, George White’s brother, had come up from Mergui with his wife Mary and their two young daughters. There was Walter McManus and Diego and Christoph. Phaulkon’s respected teacher Thamnon came in his long black robe with the badge of the Golden Pheasant on his chest. And a number of other close friends came, members of the East India Company, interlopers and merchants. Even Abu Omar came. He and Thamnon were the only non-Christians. Samuel Potts, agent for the East India Company, did not come. He wasn’t invited.

The ceremony, as planned, took place in the Chapel at the Portuguese Church in Ayutthaya and Father Thomas was to give the blessing. The boy was to be named George. Both Marie and Phaulkon were as excited as new parents could be. But their happiness was brought short, along with everyone else’s present that day. Just as Father Thomas was about to begin, a messenger came running, panting and out of breath. He was from Phaulkon’s office at the Palace. He had instructions for Phaulkon to report without delay to the Barcalon’s office at the palace.

The news spread around the small gathering like a grass fire caught in the wind. “It must be something very important,” Father Thomas said, giving the indication that he would halt the ceremony. Whispers were voiced and everyone agreed the matter had to be important. Perhaps something had happened to the king.

Phaulkon had an idea what it might be and, if he was right, it could wait. He instructed Father Thomas to get on with the ceremony but it was most difficult for everyone to be at ease with the bleak thought that something grave must have taken place. The mood had been set. The moment young George was baptized, Phaulkon kissed Marie and the baby, told everyone to enjoy the special Portuguese port wine and left without further delay for the Barcalon’s office.

Phaulkon assumed Samuel Potts was the culprit, the cause of his being called to the Barcalon’s office. The trouble began a few months before when an East India Company warehouse burned to the ground, a warehouse that was under the supervision of Potts. Potts made the report to the home office in London about the fire and the total loss of all goods in the warehouse. Phaulkon sent his men to investigate the fire and he learned that the night before the fire all of the goods in the warehouse had been removed, supposedly at the order of Samuel Potts. Potts was up to his old tricks again. Phaulkon had gathered enough evidence to send him to prison but he was waiting for the right moment when some of the goods would turn up on the black market, making the conviction certain. It was just a matter of time. Phaulkon had feelers out everywhere and nothing moved without his knowledge. But now, on his way to the Barcalon’s office, Phaulkon wondered why the sudden urgency. Surely the Barcalon knew how important the baptism was to the Christian community. He could have waited. Phaulkon hurried that much more.

“I have some bad news,” the Barcalon said when Phaulkon entered the office. He looked worried.

“I can’t imagine what it might be,” Phaulkon replied, trying to act surprised. But what he was about to hear came not only as a surprise but also as a shock. He was stunned. It had nothing to do with Potts.

“I have received news about the king’s envoy to France,” the Barcalon began. He hesitated, at a loss for words, and then continued. “The mission didn’t make it. The ship was wrecked in a storm off the coast of Africa with its royal gifts and everyone lost.”

Phaulkon had to sit down. His first thought was the king. The news must have been devastating to the king, he thought. Aside from some of the trusted members of the royal community, the king’s half-brother Prince Lek was among them.

“How did the king take the news?” Phaulkon asked after he had regained his composure.

“I didn’t tell him,” the Barcalon replied.

“You didn’t tell him!” Phaulkon stormed and jumped to his feet. “He should have been informed immediately.”

“I thought that you might want to tell him,” the Barcalon replied sheepishly. He then, after a moment’s delay, admitted, “I, I don’t have the courage to tell him.”

Phaulkon’s anger quickly passed and he could not be upset with the Barcalon. The Barcalon was having a difficult time with the position and, Phaulkon felt, that in spite of the burden imposed upon him, he was doing the best job he could. Phaulkon had come to like him and, aside from their business association, they had become rather good friends. Phaulkon softened his tone and told the Barcalon that he understood. Besides, it was his duty to tell the king and not the Barcalon.

Phaulkon had no choice but go to see the king himself and inform him of the tragedy. It was not an easy thing to do. For one thing, King Narai was unaccustomed to Phaulkon coming to see him in the morning, especially without a prior announcement.

“Well,” the king said, upon seeing Phaulkon, “is not today the second most important day in the life of your child?” Before Phaulkon could answer, he asked, “Why are you here instead?”

“There is a matter that is very important, Your Majesty,” Phaulkon said. “It grieves me to bring you much sad news.”

“What is it that stands more important between your god and your son’s baptism?” he asked.

As painful as it was, Phaulkon had to break the terrible news. He told the king as politely as he could about the shipwreck, about the loss of his brother and all those on board and all the royal gifts. The king turned frightfully pale, as though he might faint. The color drained from his face. Phaulkon had not seen him like this before. He had no idea the news would be so devastating. The king had long waited for news of the mission’s arrival in France but when no word came his fears mounted steadily. He sat now in silence. Phaulkon did not need to ask but he knew the king regretted sending his half-brother Prince Lek on the mission. Phaulkon asked if His Majesty would want him to mount an expedition to search for the lost ship. The king replied there was nothing that he, Phaulkon, or anyone else could do. The king appreciated his offer and said it was enough that someone knew how he felt. Phaulkon said he would send a message through the missionaries to King Louis XIV of France about the lost envoy and that preparations for a memorial service would be made.

As Phaulkon was about to depart after informing King Narai about the loss of the mission, he was astounded by what the king had to say next. ”A king must not mourn his losses. He must think of his people and the kingdom and be an inspiration to them.” He ordered Phaulkon to begin arrangements for another mission to France, for one to leave as soon as possible.

Arranging for another mission to France, however, was even more complicated than the others. This time Phaulkon called upon Father Vachet to assist and to actually lead the mission. But he would not be making the journey alone. Siamese officials would accompany him. There would be interpreters and an official letter from the Barcalon to the French Foreign Minister. Phaulkon labored over the letter. He knew not to be demanding and, out of politeness, he gathered suggestions from others as to how bonds between the two countries could be strengthened. He went back to King Narai and asked if His Majesty had anything special he wanted to say to King Louis.

Chapter 20B
HOW MUCH DOES THAT CANNON WEIGH?

Early one morning the king called for a meeting in the Assembly Hall for his ministers and court officials. Phaulkon, having recovered from his ordeal from the hunt, was ordered to be there too. He surmised King Narai wanted to discuss the envoy to France. He was certain this was what was on the king’s mind. Phaulkon was in a jovial mood when he left his house, but once he stepped into the hall all that changed. General Phetracha was in one of his rages and he was pouring his wrath upon Phaulkon. Phaulkon quietly took up a position on the floor to one side of the king. Phetracha continued his harangue as though Phaulkon was not there. The general complained vehemently to the king and to the assembly that Phaulkon was dividing the kingdom among his friends, that Richard Burnaby and George White had their sights on Ayutthaya, while George’s brother Samuel was taking over Mergui.

The king listened solemnly, neither looking up nor down, and when all was said he then spoke up. He said in a stern voice, “Tell me, who held the important positions in Mergui before the English were appointed? Tell me. Who was it?

“The Muslims,” one official answered.

“You are right, so right,” the king replied. “And did any of you complain when the Muslims were running Mergui? Not one of you did. So what is your complaint now, that an Englishman is running it, an Englishman who brings us trade and profit through his connections?”

They all went silent.

The king then reminded everyone to remember that General Phetracha refused the position of the Barcalon because he admitted he did not know how to deal with foreigners in matters of trade. “Why do you think I cater to the French, or listen to their missionaries talk about their religion? Why do you think I use Phaulkon to play the French against the English? Who here has more experience than Phaulkon?” No one answered. He continued. “If you can find anyone better suited, present him to me and I shall appoint him.” He let his words settle in, and then, after a long pause, he said, “Let me prove my point. Perhaps even your king might be wrong.” He requested that everyone there come to the assembly hall the next morning.

What possibly could the king have in mind? That’s what each and everyone in the hall thought? The next morning would tell.

When all his officials were gathered the next morning, the king announced he would show them how clever Phaulkon, his chief administrator, really was. He knew that he was taking a gamble but he had confidence in Phaulkon. He told Phaulkon to wait in an outer chamber and then informed the assembly that he would like to know the weight of the heavy Phra Phirua cannon out in the courtyard. He asked that they go out and weigh the cannon and let him know how heavy it was. It was early morning and they had until mid-afternoon to come up with the answer. The officials left the hall, mumbling among themselves, and gathered around the cannon. They consulted one another as to how they might weigh the heavy gun. It had taken two strong elephants and twenty men to put it into place. After much discussion they had an iron chain brought in, but then they realized it would be of no use. There was not a scale in the entire kingdom large enough to weigh the cannon.

Frustrated, they returned to the audience hall, prostrated themselves before His Majesty and confessed that they were unable to carry out his command. The king smiled and ordered Phaulkon to come in to the Assembly Hall. The king explained, while everyone listened, that he would like him to weigh the Phra Phirun cannon in the courtyard.

“I will do as you ask, Your Majesty,” Phaulkon said and went out into the courtyard, with the entire court close at his heels. The hall was emptied and the king sat in silence, alone, and waited.

Phaulkon looked at the cannon, walked around it several times, studying it carefully. Bystanders had now gathered in the courtyard. When Phaulkon sat down for a moment, staring at the big gun, the court officials beamed with satisfaction. The King’s Favorite could not determine the weight either.

Phaulkon suddenly jumped to his feet and began giving orders to the sailors whose duty it was to guard the gun. He informed them that only a short while before, on his way to the hall, he had seen workers repairing the city wall. They had constructed a huge crane enabling them to lift heavy boulders to the top of the wall. Phaulkon wanted one of the cranes to be brought to the cannon site immediately. Working swiftly and without delay, in an hour’s time, they had a crane sited over the cannon. In the meantime, Phaulkon was not idle. He ordered workers to bring half a dozen bullock carts loaded with large stones to the site. Next he told the sailors that he wanted a barge tied up alongside the dock. The ministers mumbled to one another, still uncertain where he would find a scale large enough to weigh the cannon. Phaulkon paid no attention to them, nor to anyone else, and concentrated on the sailors who were now working as he ordered.

Once the crane was in place and the barge moored securely alongside the dock, Phaulkon gave the orders to hoist up the cannon with its series of blocks and tackles and then lower it into the barge. Everyone stood aghast. He was going to sink the cannon. But that did not happen. Slowly the crane operator lowered the cannon into the barge. Deeper and deeper the vessel sank into the river. The water had almost reached to the top of the gunnels when the cannon was fully loaded and the barge sank no farther.

That accomplished, what was next? A mob of impatient onlookers had gathered and lined the entire waterfront. They anxiously awaited for the white man’s next move. They gibed and joked among themselves but not one in the vast gathering there that afternoon ventured to guess what this crazy foreigner intended to do next. Phaulkon took his time, keeping everyone in suspense.

With the barge loaded with the cannon, Phaulkon had the sailors mark the water line along the hull at which the loaded barge lay in the water. He then gave orders to remove the cannon and place it back on the dock. What had he proved, everyone thought, other than the barge could carry the weight of the heavy cannon. They were baffled next when workers arrived with the bullock carts loaded with stones. Phaulkon then had the sailors load the stones into the barge, not stopping until the barge sank to the line they had marked. Satisfied, Phaulkon ordered that the stones be removed, and that each one be weighed. The total weight was tallied up and the weight of the cannon was thus determined. Phaulkon returned to the hall, prostrated himself before the king and informed His Majesty the weight of the cannon.

The king was most pleased with the results, for even he had wondered if Phaulkon could accomplish the task given him. He then praised Phaulkon highly in the presence of everyone gathered in the hall. Turning to the court officials, he remarked that they could now see for themselves that the man he chose to be the kingdom’s trade minister was well qualified for that position and that was why he had given him the highest post in the kingdom.

The king further explained to his court that there was no need for envy, that Phaulkon was serving him and the kingdom faithfully and if anyone could prove to be better qualified than Phaulkon, then he would gladly give to that person Phaulkon’s position. He announced in the presence of Phaulkon that even though he had grown attached to Phaulkon, he would rather have a Siamese in Phaulkon’s position as it would please everybody but it had not happened.

That night after Phaulkon weighed the cannon, and was very pleased with the results, he had another great surprise waiting for him. When he returned home he found Marie had arranged a small dinner party and had invited a dozen of their close friends. She was especially jovial and no one quite knew what the special affair was all about. When the candles were lighted and the wine poured, Marie made the happy announcement. “I am with child,” she said. As the months passed and time went by, the king continued to believe and accept whatever His Favorite had to say and advise. And thus, Phaulkon became, next to the king, the most powerful man in the kingdom. He was now at the zenith of his power. He was accepted by the king’s ministers and the court, and while they accepted him at the same time they feared him. Along with their fear came a mistrust. Phaulkon was aware of this, but he firmly believed in himself Where others had failed he would succeed. He wanted desperately to prove to the court and to the Siamese people that they need not worry about him. All he had to do was to figure out a way to do this. Easily said, but not so easily done.