The English Governess at the Siamese Court | Page 9

and smiling by way of
conversation. It was long before I could imagine what we were to do.
Boy, fairly tortured, cried "Come home, mamma! why don't you come
home? I don't like that man." His Excellency halted, and sinking his
voice ominously, said, "You no can go!" Boy clutched my dress, and
hid his face and smothered his sobs in my lap; and yet, attracted,
fascinated, the poor little fellow from time to time looked up, only to
shudder, tremble, and hide his face again. For his sake I was glad when
the interpreter returned on all fours. Pushing one elbow straight out
before the other, in the manner of these people, he approached his
master with such a salutation as might be offered to deity; and with a
few more unintelligible utterances, his Excellency bowed to us, and
disappeared behind a mirror. All the curious, peering eyes that had been
directed upon us from every nook and corner where a curtain hung,
instantly vanished; and at the same time sweet, wild music, like the
tinkling of silver bells in the distance, fell upon our ears.
To my astonishment the interpreter stood boldly upright, and began to
contemplate his irresistible face and figure in a glass, and arrange with
cool coxcombry his darling tuft of hair; which done, he approached us
with a mild swagger, and proceeded to address me with a freedom
which I found it expedient to snub. I told him that, although I did not
require any human being to go down on his face and hands before me, I
should nevertheless tolerate no familiarity or disrespect from any one.
The fellow understood me well enough, but did not permit me to
recover immediately from my surprise at the sudden change in his
bearing and tone. As he led us to the two elegant rooms reserved for us
in the west end of the palace, he informed us that he was the Premier's
half-brother, and hinted that I would be wise to conciliate him if I
wished to have my own way. In the act of entering one of the rooms, I
turned upon him angrily, and bade him be off. The next moment this
half-brother of a Siamese magnate was kneeling in abject supplication
in the half-open doorway, imploring me not to report him to his
Excellency, and promising never to offend again. Here was a miracle of
repentance I had not looked for; but the miracle was sham. Rage,
cunning, insolence, servility, and hypocrisy were vilely mixed in the
minion.

Our chambers opened on a quiet piazza, shaded by fruit-trees in
blossom, and overlooking a small artificial lake stocked with pretty,
sportive fish.
To be free to make a stunning din is a Siamese woman's idea of perfect
enjoyment. Hardly were we installed in our apartments when, with a
pell-mell rush and screams of laughter, the ladies of his Excellency's
private Utah reconnoitred us in force. Crowding in through the
half-open door, they scrambled for me with eager curiosity, all trying at
once to embrace me boisterously, and promiscuously chattering in
shrill Siamese,--a bedlam of parrots; while I endeavored to make
myself impartially agreeable in the language of signs and glances.
Nearly all were young; and in symmetry of form, delicacy of feature,
and fairness of complexion, decidedly superior to the Malay women I
had been accustomed to. Most of them might have been positively
attractive, but for their ingeniously ugly mode of clipping the hair and
blackening the teeth.
The youngest were mere children, hardly more than fourteen years old.
All were arrayed in rich materials, though the fashion did not differ
from that of their slaves, numbers of whom were prostrate in the rooms
and passages. My apartments were ablaze with their crimson, blue,
orange, and purple, their ornaments of gold, their rings and brilliants,
and their jewelled boxes. Two or three of the younger girls satisfied my
Western ideas of beauty, with their clear, mellow, olive complexions,
and their almond-shaped eyes, so dark yet glowing. Those among them
who were really old were simply hideous and repulsive. One wretched
crone shuffled through the noisy throng with an air of authority, and
pointing to Boy lying in my lap, cried, "_Moolay, moolay!_" "Beautiful,
beautiful!" The familiar Malay word fell pleasantly on my ear, and I
was delighted to find some one through whom I might possibly control
the disorderly bevy around me. I addressed her in Malay. Instantly my
visitors were silent, and waiting in attitudes of eager attention.
She told me she was one of the many custodians of the harem. She was
a native of Quedah; and "some sixty years ago," she and her sister,
together with other young Malay girls, were captured while working in
the fields by a party