"Believe me, dear lady," continued Tuptim, growing more and more eloquent as she became still more earnest in her recital. "I was guilty, it is true, when I fled from my gracious master, the king, but I never even contemplated the sin of which I am accused by those men. I knew that I was innocent, and I begged them to let me leave the temple, and hide myself anywhere, telling them that P'hra Bâlât did not know who I was, or that I was a woman; but they only laughed and jeered at me. I fellon my knees at their feet, and implored them, entreated them in the name of all that is holy and sacred, to keep my secret and let me go; but they only laughed and jeered at me the more; they would not be merciful,"—here the poor girl gasped as if for breath, while two large tears coursed down her cheeks,—"and then I defied them, and I still defy them," she added, shaking her manacled hands at them.
The two priests looked at the girl unmoved, chewing their betel all the while; the judges listened in silence, with an air of amused incredulity, as to a fairy-tale. She continued:—
"Just then P'hra Bâlât and his other disciples returned from their morning ablutions. I crawled to his feet, and told him that I was Tuptim. He started back and recoiled to the end of the cell, as if the very earth had quaked beneath him, leaving me prostrate and overwhelmed with horror at what I had done. In a moment afterwards he came back to me, and, while weeping bitterly himself, begged me that I would cry no more. But the sight of his tears, and the grief in my heart, made me feel as if I were being swallowed up in a great black abyss, and I could not help crying more and more. Then he tried to soothe me, and said, 'Alas! Tuptim, thou hast committed a great sin. But fear not. We are innocent; and for the sake of the great love thou hast shown to me, I am ready to suffer even unto death for thee.' This is the whole truth. Indeed, indeed, it is!"
"Well, well!" said P'hayaprome Baree Rak, "you have told your story beautifully, but nobody believes you. How will you tell us who shaved off your hair and your eyebrows, and brought you that priest's dress you had on yesterday?"
The simple grandeur of that fragile child, as she folded her chained hands across her bosom, as if to still its tumultuous heaving, and replied, "I will not!" defies all description.
I had drawn quite near to Tuptim when she began her simple narrative, and was so much absorbed in attention to what she said, and in admiration of the fearlessness as well as of the beauty and majesty of that little figure, that I had remained rooted to the spot, standing there mechanically, and hardly noting what was going on around me. But the effect of that reply was startling; it brought me suddenly to my senses and to a full appreciation of the scene before me.
There was a child of barely sixteen years hurling defiance, at her own risk and peril, at the judges who appeared as giants beside her. To make such a reply to those executors of Siam's cruel laws was not only to accept death, but all the agonies of merciless torture. As her refusal fell like a thunderbolt upon my startled ears, she seemed a very Titan among the giants.
"Strip her, and give her thirty blows," shouted the infuriated P'hayaprome Baree Rak, in a voice hoarse with passion; and Khoon Thow App looked calmly on.
Presently the crowd opened, and a litter borne by two men was brought into the hall. On it lay the mutilated form of the priest Bâlât, who had just undergone the torture, in order to make him confess his guilt and that of his accomplice, Tuptim; but as the minutes of the ecclesiastical court stated, "it had not been possible to elicit from him even an indication that he had anything to confess." His priestly robes had been taken from him, and he was dressed like any ordinary layman, except that his hair and eyebrows were closely shaven. They laid him down beside Tuptim, hoping that the sight of her under torture would induce him to confess.
girl
A SIAMESE SLAVE-GIRL.
The next moment Tuptim was stripped of her vest and bound to a stake, and the executioners proceeded to obey the orders of the judge. When the first blow descended on the girl's bare and delicate shoulders, I felt as if boundand lacerated myself, and losing all control over my actions, forgetting that I was a stranger and a foreigner there, and as powerless as the weakest of the oppressed around me, I sprang forward, and heard my voice commanding the executioners to desist, as they valued their lives.
The Amazons at once dropped their uplifted bamboos, and "Why so?" asked the judge. "At least till I can plead for Tuptim before his Majesty," I replied. "So be it," said the wretch; "go your way; we will wait your return."[5]Tuptim was unbound, and the moment she was released she crouched down and concealed herself under the folds of the canvas litter in which the priest lay motionless and silent.
I forced my way through the curious crowd, who stood on tiptoe and with necks outstretched, trying to get a sight of the guilty pair. On leaving the hall, I met the slave-girl Phim, who followed me into the palace, wringing her hands and sobbing bitterly. The king was in his breakfast-hall, and the smell of food made me feel sick and dizzy as I climbed the lofty staircase, for I had eaten nothing that day. Nevertheless, I walked as rapidly as possible up to the chair in which the king was seated, fearing that I might lose my courage if I deliberated a moment. "Your Majesty," I began to say, in a voice that seemed quite strange to me, "I beg, I entreat your pity on poor Tuptim. I assure you that she is innocent. If you had known from the beginning that she was betrothed to another man, you would never have taken her to be your wife. She is not guilty; and the priest, too, is innocent. Oh! do be gracious to them and forgivethem both! I pray your Majesty to give me a scrap of writing to say that she is forgiven, and that the priest, too, is pardoned, through your goodness; only let me—" My voice failed me, and I sank upon the floor by the king's chair. "I beg your Majesty's pardon—" "You are mad," said the monarch; and, fixing a cold stare upon me, he burst out laughing in my face. I started to my feet as if I had received a blow. Staggering to a pillar, and leaning against it, I stood looking at him. I saw that there was something indescribably revolting about him, something fiendish in his character which had never struck me before, and I was seized with an inexpressible horror of the man. Stupefied and amazed quite as much at finding myself there as at the new development I witnessed, thought and speech alike failed me, and I turned to go away.
"Madam," said that man to me, "come back. I have granted your petition, and the woman will be condemned to work in the rice-mill. You need not return to the court-house. You had better go to the school now."
I could not thank him; the revulsion of feeling was too great. I understood him perfectly, but I had no power to speak. I went away without a word, and at the head of the stairs met one of the women judges bringing some papers in her hand to the king. Instead of going to the school I went home, utterly sick and prostrated.
FOOTNOTES:[4]"The English Governess at the Siamese Court," p. 95.[5]I cannot account for the regard paid to my words on this and other occasions by the officers of the court, except from the fact of the general belief that I had great influence with the king, and the supposition entertained by many that I was a member of the Secret Council, which is, in reality, the supreme power in Siam.
FOOTNOTES:
[4]"The English Governess at the Siamese Court," p. 95.
[4]"The English Governess at the Siamese Court," p. 95.
[5]I cannot account for the regard paid to my words on this and other occasions by the officers of the court, except from the fact of the general belief that I had great influence with the king, and the supposition entertained by many that I was a member of the Secret Council, which is, in reality, the supreme power in Siam.
[5]I cannot account for the regard paid to my words on this and other occasions by the officers of the court, except from the fact of the general belief that I had great influence with the king, and the supposition entertained by many that I was a member of the Secret Council, which is, in reality, the supreme power in Siam.
CHAPTER IV.
THE KING CHANGES HIS MIND.
About two o'clock that very afternoon I was startled to see two scaffolds set up on the great common in front of my windows, opposite the palace. A vast crowd of men, women, and children had already collected from every quarter, in order to see the spectacle, whatever it might happen to be. A number of workmen were driving stakes and bringing up strange machines, under the hurried instructions of several high Siamese officials. There was an appearance of great and general excitement among the crowd on the green, and I became sufficiently aroused to inquire of my maid what was the reason of all this preparation and commotion. She informed me that a Bâdachit (guilty priest) and a Nangharm (royal concubine) were to be exposed and tortured for the improvement of the public morals that afternoon. It was afternoon already.
As I afterwards learned, I had no sooner left the king than the woman judge I had met at the head of the staircase laid before him the proceedings of both the trials, of Bâlât and Tuptim. On reading them he repented of his promised mercy, flew into a violent rage against Tuptim and me, and, not knowing how to punish me except by showing me his absolute power of life and death over his subjects, ordered the scaffolds to be set up before my windows, and swore vengeance against any person who should again dare to oppose his royal will and pleasure. To do justice to the king, I must here add that, having been educated a priest, he had been taught to regard the crime of which Tuptim and Bâlât were accused as the most deadly sin that could be committed by man.
The scaffolds or pillories on which the priest and Tuptim were to be exposed were made of poles, and about five feet high; and to each were attached two long levers, which were fastened to the neck of the victim, and prevented his falling off, while they were so arranged as to strangle him in case this was the sentence.
All the windows of the long antechamber that filled the eastern front of the palace were thrown open, and I could see the hurried preparations making for the king, the princes and princesses, and all the great ladies of the court, who from there were to witness the exquisite torture that awaited the hapless Tuptim.
Paralyzed by the knowledge that the only person who could have done anything to mitigate the barbarous cruelty that was about to be perpetrated—her Britannic Majesty's Consul, T.G. Knox, now Consul-General—was then absent from Bangkok, I looked in helpless despair at what was going on before me. I longed to escape into the forest, or to take refuge with the missionaries, who lived several miles down the river; but so dense was the crowd and so horrible the idea of deserting poor Tuptim and leaving her to suffer alone, that I felt obliged to stay and sympathize with her and pray for her, at the least. I thus compelled myself to endure what was one of the severest trials of my life.
A little before three o'clock the instruments of torture were brought, and placed beside the scaffolds. Soon a long, loud flourish of trumpets announced the arrival of the royal party, and the king and all his court were visible at the open windows; the Amazons, dressed in scarlet and gold, took their post in the turrets to guard the favored fair ones who were doomed to be present and to witness the sufferings of their former companion.
Suddenly the throng sent up a thrilling cry, whether of joy or sorrow I could not comprehend, and, the moment after, the priest was hoisted upon the scaffold to the right, while Tuptim tranquilly ascended that to the left, nearest my windows. I thought I could see that the poor priest turned his eyes, full of love and grief, towards her.
I need not attempt to depict the feelings with which I saw the little lady, with her hands, which were no longer chained, folded upon her bosom, look calmly down upon the heartless and abandoned rabble who, as usual, flocked around the scaffold to gloat upon the spectacle, and who usually greet with ferocious howls the agonies of the poor tortured victims. But, on this occasion, the rabble were awed into silence; while some simple hearts, here and there, firm believers in Tuptim's innocence, were so impressed by her calm self-possession, that they even prostrated themselves in worship of that childish form.
My windows were closed upon the scene; but that tiny figure, with her scarlet scarf fluttering in the breeze, had so strong a fascination for me, that I could not withdraw, but leaned against the shutters, an unwilling witness of what took place, with feelings of pain, indignation, pity, and conscious helplessness which can be imagined.
Two trumpeters, one on the right and one on the left, blared forth the nature of the crime of which the helpless pair were accused. Ten thousand eyes were fixed upon them, but no sound, no cry, was heard. Every one held his breath, and remained mute in fixed attention, in order not to lose a single word of the sentence that was to follow. Again the trumpets sounded, and the conviction of the accused, with the judgment that had been passed upon them, was announced. Then the spell was broken, and some of the throng, as if desirous to propitiate the royal spectator at the window, made the air ring with their shouts; while others, going still further, showered allmanner of abuse upon the poor girl, as she stood calmly awaiting her fate upon those shaking wooden posts.
Nothing could surpass the dignity of demeanor with which the little lady sustained the storm of calumny from the more mercenary of the rabble around her; but the rapidity with which the color came and went in her cheeks, which were now of glowing crimson and now deadly pale, and the astonishment and indignation which flashed from her eyes, showed the agitation within.
The shrill native trumpets sounded for the third time. The multitude was again hushed into a profound silence, and the executioners mounted a raised platform to apply the torture to Tuptim. For one moment it seemed as if the intense agony exceeded her power of endurance. She half turned her back upon the royal spectator at the window, her form became convulsed, and she tried to hide her face in her hands. But she immediately raised herself up as by a supreme effort, and her voice rang out, like a clear, deep-toned silver bell: "Chân my di phit; Khoon P'hra Bâlât ko my me phit; P'hra Buddh the Chow sap möt." She had hardly done speaking when she uttered an agonized cry, wild and piercing. It was peculiarly touching; the cry was that of a child, an infant falling from its mother's arms, and she fell forward insensible upon the two poles placed there to support her.
The attendant physicians soon restored her to consciousness, and, after a short interval, the torture was again applied. Once more her voice rang out more musical still, for its quivering vibrations were full of the tenderest devotion, the most sublime heroism: "I have not sinned, nor has the priest my lord Bâlât sinned. The sacred Buddh[6]in heaven knows all." Every torture thatwould agonize, but not kill, was employed to wring a confession of guilt from the suffering Tuptim; but every torture, every pang, every agony, failed, utterly and completely failed, to bring forth anything but the childlike innocence of that incomparable pagan woman. The honor of the priest Bâlât seemed inexpressibly more precious to her than her own life, for the last words I heard from her were: "All the guilt was mine. I knew that I was a woman, but he did not."
After this I neither heard nor saw anything more. I was completely exhausted and worn out, and had no strength left to endure further sight of this monstrous, this inhuman tragedy. Kind nature came to my relief, and I fainted.
When I again looked from my window the scaffolds were removed, the crowd had departed, the sun had set. I strained my eyes, trying if I could distinguish anything on the great common before the house. There was a thick mist loaded with sepulchral vapors, a terrifying silence, an absolute quiet that made me shudder, as if I were entombed alive. At last I saw one solitary person coming towards my house through the gathering darkness. It was the slave-girl, Phim, whose life had been saved by the resolute bravery of her mistress; for it was she who had bought the priest's dress and aided her mistress to escape from the palace. She came to me in secret to tell me that the most merciful and yet the most dreadful doom, death by fire,—which is the punishment assigned by the laws of Siam to the crime of which they were accused,—had been pronounced upon the priest and Tuptim by that most irresponsible of human beings, the King of Siam; that they had suffered publicly outside of the moat and wall which enclose the cemetery Watt Sah Katè; and that some of the common people had been terribly affected by the sight of the priest's invincible courage and of Tuptim's heroic fortitude. With her low,massive brow, her wild, glistening eyes, and her whole soul in her face, she spoke as if she still beheld that fragile form in its last struggle with the flaming fire that wrapped it round about, and still heard her beloved mistress's voice, as she confronted the populace, holding up her mutilated hands, and saying: "I am pure, and the priest, my lord Bâlât, is pure also. See, these fingers have not made my lips to lie. The sacred Buddh in heaven judge between me and my accusers!"
The slave-girl's grief was as deep and lasting as her gratitude. Every seventh day she offered fresh flowers and odoriferous tapers upon the spot where her mistress and the priest had suffered, firmly believing that their disembodied souls still hovered about the place at twilight, bewailing their cruel fate. She assured me that she often heard voices moaning plaintively through the mellow evening air, growing deeper and gathering strength as she listened, and seeming to draw her very soul away with them; now tenderly weeping, now fervently exulting, until they became indistinct, and finally died away in the regions of the blessed and the pure.
I afterwards learned that the fickle populace, convinced of the innocence of Bâlât and Tuptim, would have taken speedy vengeance on the two priests, their accusers, had they not escaped from Bangkok to a monastery at Paknâm; and that the twenty caties offered for the capture of Tuptim had been expended in the purchase of yellow robes, earthen pots, pillows, and mats for the use of the bonzes at Watt Rajah Bah ditt Sang, no priest being allowed to touch silver or gold.
The name Bâlât, which signifies "wonderful," had been given to the priest by the high-priest, Chow Khoon Sah, because of his deep piety and his intuitive perception of divine and holy truths. The name which his mother bestowed upon him, and by which Tuptim had known himin her earlier years, was Dang, because of his complexion, which was a golden yellow. On being bereft of Tuptim, to whom he was tenderly attached, he entered the monastery, and became a priest, in order that, by austere devotion and the study of the Divine Law, he might wean his heart from her and distract his mind from the contemplation of his irreparable loss.
For more than a month after Tuptim's sad death I did not see the king. At last he summoned me to his presence, and never did I feel so cold, so hard, and so unforgiving, as when I once more entered his breakfast-hall. He took no notice of my manner, but, as soon as he saw me, began with what was uppermost in his mind. "I have much sorrow for Tuptim," he said; "I shall now believe she is innocent. I have had a dream, and I had clear observation in my vision of Tuptim and Bâlât floating together in a great wide space, and she has bent down and touched me on the shoulder, and said to me, 'We are guiltless. We were ever pure and guiltless on earth, and look, we are happy now.' After discoursing thus, she has mounted on high and vanished from my further observation. I have much sorrow, mam, much sorrow, and respect for your judgment; but our laws are severe for such the crime. But now I shall cause monument to be erected to the memory of Bâlât and Tuptim."
Any one who may now pass by Watt Sah Katè will see two tall and slender P'hra Chadees, or obelisks, erected by order of the king on the spot where those lovely Buddhists suffered, each bearing this inscription: "Suns may set and rise again, but the pure and brave Bâlât and Tuptim will never more return to this earth."
FOOTNOTES:[6]The Siamese in their prayers and invocations abbreviate the titles of the Buddha; the more educated using the word "Buddh," and the common people "P'huth."
FOOTNOTES:
[6]The Siamese in their prayers and invocations abbreviate the titles of the Buddha; the more educated using the word "Buddh," and the common people "P'huth."
[6]The Siamese in their prayers and invocations abbreviate the titles of the Buddha; the more educated using the word "Buddh," and the common people "P'huth."
CHAPTER V.
SLAVERY IN THE GRAND ROYAL PALACE OF THE "INVINCIBLE AND BEAUTIFUL ARCHANGEL."[7]
One morning in the early part of May, 1863, I went at the usual hour to my temple school-room, and found that all my pupils had gone to the Maha P'hra Sâât to attend a religious ceremony, at which I also was requested to be present.
Following the directions of one of the flower-girls, I turned into a long, dark alley, through which I hurried, passing into another, and keeping, as I thought, in the right direction. These alleys brought me at last into one of those gloomy walled streets, into which no sunlight ever penetrated, and which are to be found only in Bangkok, the farther end of which seemed lost in mist and darkness.
Stone benches, black with moss and fungi, lined it at intervals, and a sort of pale night-grass covered the pathway. There was not a soul to be seen throughout its whole length, which appeared very natural, for it did not seem as if the street were made for any one to walk in, but as if it were intended to be kept secluded from public use. I walked on, however, looking for some opening out of it, and hoping every moment to find an exit. But I suddenly came to the end. It was acul-de-sac, and a high brick wall barred my further progress.
In the middle of this wall was set a door of polished brass. The shadow of a tall and grotesque façade rested upon the wall and on the narrow deserted street, like animmense black pall. The solitude of the place was strangely calm. With that frightful din and roar of the palace life so near, the silence seemed almost supernatural. It cast a shadow of distrust over me. I almost felt as if that wall, that roof with its towering front, were built of the deaf stones spoken of in Scripture. All at once the wind rattled the dry grass on the top of the wall, making a low, soft, mournful noise. I started from my revery, hardly able to account for the feeling of dread that crept over me. Half ashamed of my idle fears, I pushed at the door with all my might. Slowly, noiselessly, the huge door swung back, and I stepped into a paved court-yard, with a garden on one side and a building suggestive of nocturnal mystery and gloom on the other.
The façade of this building was still more gloomy than that on the outside of the wall. All the windows were closed. On the upper story the shutters were like those used in prisons. No other house could be seen. The high wall ran all round and enclosed the garden. The walks were bordered with diminutive Chinese trees, planted in straight rows; grass covered half of them, and moss the rest.
Nothing could be imagined more wild and more deserted than this house and this garden. But the object that attracted my immediate attention was a woman, the only animate being then visible to me in the apparent solitude. She was seated beside a small pond of water, and I soon discovered that she was not alone, but was nursing a naked child about four years old.
The moment the woman became conscious of my presence, she raised her head with a quick, impetuous movement, clasped her bare arms around the nude form at her breast, and stared at me with fixed and defiant eyes. Her aspect was almost terrifying. She seemed as if hewn out of stone and set there to intimidate intruders. She waslarge, well made, and swarthy; her features were gaunt and fierce, but looked as if her face might once have been attractive. I relaxed my hold of the door; it swung back with a dull, ominous thud, and I stood half trembling beside the dark, defiant woman, whose eyes only gave any indication of vitality, hoping to prevail upon her to show me my way out of that dismal solitude.
The moment I approached her, however, I was seized with inexpressible dismay; pity and astonishment, mingling with a sense of supreme indignation, held me speechless for a time. She was naked to the waist, and chained,—chained like a wild beast by one leg to a post driven into the ground, and without the least shelter under that burning sky.
The chain was of cast-iron, and heavy, consisting of seven long double-links, attached to a ring, and fitted close to the right leg just above the ankle; it was secured to the post by a rivet. Under her lay a tattered fragment of matting, farther on a block of wood for a pillow, and on the other side were several broken Chinese umbrellas.
Growing more and more bewildered, I sat down and looked at the woman in a sort of helpless despair. The whole scene was startlingly impressive; the apathy, the deadness, and the barbarous cruelty of the palace life, were never more strikingly brought before me face to face. Here there was no doubting, no denying, no questioning the fact that this unhappy creature was suffering under some cruel wrong, which no one cared to redress. Naked to the waist, her long filthy hair bound in dense masses around her brow, she sat calmly, uncomplainingly, under a burning tropical sun, such as we children of a more temperate clime can hardly imagine, fierce, lurid, and scorching, nursing at her breast a child full of health and begrimed with dirt, with a tenderness that would have graced the most high-born gentlewoman.
I remained long and indignantly silent, before I could find voice for the questions that rose to my lips. But at length I inquired her name. "Pye-sia" (begone), was her fierce reply.
"Why art thou thus chained? Wilt thou not tell me?" I pleaded.
"Pye" (go), said the woman, snatching her breast impatiently from the sucking child, and at the same time turning her back upon me.
The child set up a tremendous scream, which was re-echoed through the strange place. The woman turned and took him into her arms; and as if there were an indwelling persuasiveness about them, he was quieted in an instant.
Rocking him to and fro, with her face resting against his unwashed cheek, she was no longer repulsive, but glorious, clothed in the beauty and strength of a noble human love. I rose respectfully from the low wall of the pond, where I had seated myself, and took my place on the heated pavement beside the woman and her child; then as gently and as kindly as I could I asked his name and age.
"He is four years old," she replied, curtly.
"And his name?"
"His name is Thook" (Sorrow), said the woman, turning away her face.
"And why hast thou given him such a name?"
"What is that to thee, woman?" was the sharp rejoinder.
After this she relapsed into a grim silence, seeming to gaze intently into the empty air. But at length there came a sob, and she passed her bare arms slowly across her eyes. This served as a signal for the little fellow to begin to scream again, which he did most lustily; the woman, after quieting him, turned to me, and to my greatsurprise began to talk of her own accord, with but few questions on my part.
"Hast thou come here to seek me, lady? Has the Naikodah, my husband, sent thee? Tell me, is he well? Hast thou come to buy me? Ah! lady! will thou not buy me? Will thou not help me to get my pardon?"
"Tell me why thou art chained. What is thy crime?"
This seemed a terrible question for the poor woman. In vain she attempted to speak; her lips moved, but uttered no sound, her features quivered, and with one convulsive movement she threw up her arms and burst into an agony of tears. She sobbed passionately for some time, then, passing into a quieter mood, turned to me and said, bitterly: "Do you want to know of what crime I am accused? It is the crime of loving my husband and seeking to be with him."
"But what induced you to become a slave?"
"I was born a slave, lady. It was the will of Allah."
"You are a Mohammedan then?"
"My parents were Mohammedans, slaves to the father of my mistress, Chow Chom Manda Ung. When we were yet young, my brother and I were sent as slaves to her daughter, the Princess P'hra Ong Brittry."
"If you can prove that your parents were Mohammedans, I can help you, I think; because all the Mohammedans here are under British protection, and no subject of Britain can be a slave."
"But, lady, my parents sold themselves to my mistress's grandfather."
"That was your father's debt, which your mother and father have paid over and over again by a life of faithful servitude. You can insist upon your mistress accepting your purchase-money."
"Insist," said the woman, her large, dark eyes glowingwith the tears still glistening in them. "You do not know what you say. You do not know that my mistress, Chow Chom Manda Ung, is mother-in-law to the king, and that her daughter, Princess P'hra Ong Brittry, is his favorite half-sister and queen. My only hope lies in a special pardon from my mistress herself."
"And your friends," said I, "do they know nothing of your cruel captivity?"
"Nothing, indeed. I have no opportunity to speak even to the slave-woman whose duty it is to feed us daily. And her lot is too sad already for her to be willing to run any great risk for me. The secrecy and mystery of my sudden disappearance have been preserved so long because I am chained here. No one comes here but my mistress, and she only visits this place occasionally, with the most tried and trusted of her slave-women."
Eleven o'clock boomed like a death-knell through the solitude. The woman laid herself down beside her sleeping boy to rest, apparently worn out with a sense of her misery. I placed my small umbrella over them; and this simple act of kindness so touched the poor thing, that she started up suddenly, and, before I could prevent her, passionately kissed my soiled and dusty shoes.
I was so sorry for the unhappy creature that tears filled my eyes. "My sister," said I, "tell me your whole story, and I will lay it before the king."
The woman started up and adjusted the umbrella over the sleeping child. Her eyes beamed with a fire as if from above, while with wonderful power, combined with sweetness and delicacy, she repeated her sad tale.
"There is sorrow in my heart, lady, where once there was nothing but passive endurance. In my soul I now hear whisperings of things that are between heaven and earth, yea, and beyond the heaven of heavens, where once there was nothing but blind obedience. Unconscious ofthe beauty of life, my heart was as if frozen and inert until I met the Naikodah, my husband. Lady, as I told you, I and my brother were born slaves; and so faithful were we, that my brother obtained, as proof of the trust my lady reposed in him, the charge of a rice plantation at Ayudia, while I was promoted to be the chief attendant of the Princess P'hra Ong Brittry.
"One day my mistress intrusted to my care a bag of money, to purchase some Bombay silk of the Naikodah Ibrahim. As it was the first time for many years that I had been permitted to quit the gates of the gloomy palace, I felt on that day as if I had come into the world anew, as if my previous life had been nothing but a dream; and my recollections of that day are always present to my mind, and saying to me, 'Remember how happy you were once, be patient now.'
"Oh! On that day the Mèinam splashed and rippled more enchantingly, seemed broader and more beautiful, than ever! The green leaves and buds seemed to have burst forth all of a sudden. How beautifully green the grass was, and how clearly and joyously the birds on the bushes and in the trees poured forth their song, as if purposely for me, while from the distant plain across the river floated the aromatic breath of new-blown flowers, filling me with inexpressible delight! I was silent with a feeling of supreme happiness. On that day a new light had risen in the east, a light which was to enlighten and to darken all my coming life.
"We moored our boat by the bank of the river, and made our way to the shop of the Naikodah, which my companions entered, while I sat outside on the steps until the bargain should be completed. My companions and the merchant could come to no terms. I entered with the bag of money, hoping by the sight of the silver to induce him to sell the silk for the price offered; but onentering I seemed to be dazzled by something, I know not what. The merchant's eyes flashed upon me, as it were, with a look of recollection, and by their expression reminded me of some face I had seen in my infancy, or, perhaps, in my dreams. I drew my faded, tattered scarf more tightly around my chest, and sat down silent and wondering, not daring to ask myself where I had seen that face before, or why it produced such an effect upon me.
girl
A SIAMESE FLOWER-GIRL.
"After a great deal of talking and bargaining about the silk, we came away without it, but the next day went again to the merchant and purchased it at his own price. I was surprised, however, to find that, when I paid him the money, he left five ticals in my hands. 'That is our kumrie' (perquisite), said the women, snatching the ticals out of my hand and pocketing them. Time after time we repeated our visits to the merchant, who was constantly kind and respectful in his manner towards me. He always left five ticals for us. My companions took the money, but I persistently refused to share in this pitiful kind of profit.
"The merchant began to observe me more closely, and, as I thought, to take an interest in me, and one day, after we had purchased some boxes of fragrant candles and wax-tapers, and I had paid him the full price for his goods, he left twenty ticals on the floor beside me. My companions called my attention to the money; when the merchant, observing my unwillingness to receive it, took up fifteen ticals, leaving the usual kumrie of five upon the floor, which my companions picked up and appropriated.
"We returned, as was our custom, by the river, slowly paddling our little canoe down the broad and beautiful stream, and enjoying every moment of our permitted freedom. I was sorely unwilling to return to the palace;I was even tempted to plunge into the water and make good my escape; but the responsibility of the money intrusted to my care made me hesitate, and the tranquil surface of the Mèinam, broken only by its circling ripples, helped to dissipate my wicked thoughts. Still I indulged, though almost unconsciously, the hope of obtaining my freedom some day, without even forming a thought as to how it could ever be accomplished. How or why I began to think of getting free I know not. I seemed to inhale a longing for freedom with the fragrance of flowers wafted to me on the fresh, invigorating air; every tree in blossom, every wild flower clothed in its splendor of red and orange, made me dream as naturally of liberty as it did of love; and I prayed for freedom for the first time in my life, even as for the first time I felt the strength of a supreme emotion overpowering me."
Here the woman paused for a few moments, and I was surprised to find that she expressed herself so well, until I remembered that the princesses of Siam make it a special point to educate the slaves born in their household, so that in most Oriental accomplishments they generally surpass the common people who may have become slaves by purchase. There was something very simple and attractive in the way she spoke of herself, and throughout our whole interview she manifested such gentleness and resignation that she completely won my affection and pity.
After a while she smiled sadly, and said softly: "Ah, lady! we all love God, and we are all loved by him; yet he has seen fit to make some masters and others slaves. Strange as the delusion may appear to you, who are free and perfectly happy, while the slave is not happy, the more impossible seemed the realization of my hope of freedom, the more I thought of it and longed for it.
"One day a slave-woman came to my mistress withsome new goods from the Naikodah, and on seeing me she begged for a drink of water and some cere (betel-leaf). As I handed her the water, she said to me in a low tone: 'Thou art a Moslem; free thyself from this bondage to an unbelieving race. Take from my master the price of thy freedom; come out of this Naiwang (palace) and be restored to the true people of God.'
"I listened in amazement, fearing to break the enchanting spell of her words, and hardly believing that I had heard aright. She quitted me suddenly, fearful of exciting suspicion, and left me in such a disturbed state of mind as I had never before experienced. My thoughts flew hither and thither like birds overtaken by a sudden storm, flapping their silent and despairing wings against the closed and barred gates of my prison. I found comfort only in trusting to theGreat Heartabove, and with the instinct of all sufferers I turned at once to him.
"When I saw the woman a second time I embraced the opportunity to say to her, 'Sister, tell me, how shall I obtain my purchase-money? Will not thy master hold me as his slave?'
"'He will give thee the money, and will never repent having freed a Moslem and the daughter of a believer from slavery.'
"'O thou angel of life!' said I, clasping her to my throbbing heart, 'I am already his slave.'
"She released my arms from around her neck, and, taking some silver from her scarf, tied it firmly into mine without another word; and I, fearing lest I should be discovered with so much money in my possession, came here by night and hid it under this very pavement on which we are seated.
"Some weeks after we were sent again to the Naikodah to buy some sandal-wood tapers and flowers for the cremation of the young Princess P'hra Ong O'Dong. Inever was so conscious of the shabbiness of my dress as when I entered the presence of the good merchant. We made our purchase, paid the money, and as I rose to depart, my friend D'hamni, the slave-woman who had been employed by the Naikodah to speak to me, beckoned me to come into an inner chamber. I was followed by her master, who addressed himself to me, and said,—I remember the words so well,—'L'ore! thou art of form so beauteous, and of spirit so guileless, thou hast awakened all my love and pity. See, here is the money thou hast just paid me; double the price of thy freedom, and forget not thy deliverer.'
"'May Allah prosper thee!' said D'hamni.
"I was overwhelmed; my astonishment and my gratitude at his goodness knew no bounds. I tried to speak; my tongue clave to the roof of my mouth as if held back by an evil genius; I could not give utterance to a single word in expression of my feelings. My heart heaved, my eyes glowed, my cheeks burned, my blushes came and went, showing the depth of my emotion, and I burst into tears. I returned to the palace, hid the money, and waited my opportunity.
"Thus I lived in bondage within and bondage without. Freedom within my grasp and slavery in my heart. 'I am more a slave than ever,' said I to myself; 'alas! the servitude of the heart, the sweet, feverish servitude of love, who will ransom me from these? Who can buy me freedom from these? Henceforth and forever I am the good merchant's slave.'
"I waited my time like a lover lying in wait for his mistress, like a mother watching the return of an only child, and I waited long and anxiously, praying to God, calling him Allah! calling him Buddha! Father! Goodness! Compassion! praying for liberty only, praying only for freedom.
"One day my mistress, Chow Chom Manda Ung, was so kind and pleasant to me that I believed my opportunity had come. I seized it, threw myself at her feet, and said, 'Lady dear, be pitiful to thy child, hear but her prayer. It is the only desire of her heart, the dream of thy slave's life. As the thirsty traveller beholds afar off the everlasting springs of water, as the dying man has foretastes of immortality, even so thy slave L'ore has, through thy goodness, tasted of freedom, and would more fully drink of the cup, if thou in thy bountiful goodness would but let her go free. Here is the price of my freedom, dear lady; be pitiful, and set me free.'
"'Thou wert born my slave,' said my lady, 'I will take no money for thee.'
"'Take double, lady dear, but O, let me go!'
"'If thou wishest to be married,' said my mistress, 'I will find thee a good and able husband, and thou shalt bear me children, even as thy mother did before thee; but I will not let thee go free.'
"In my despair I prayed, I entreated, with tears blinding my eyes. I promised that my children yet unborn should be her slaves, if she would only let me go.
"It was all in vain. I gathered up my silver and returned to my slave's life, hopelessly defeated. I soon recovered from my disappointment, however, because I was strengthened by the determination to escape at the first opportunity that offered itself to me. This enabled me to bear my captivity bravely. My mistress distrusted me for a long time; my companions, seeing that I had fallen into disgrace, pitied me, but I did my best to show myself willing, obedient, and cheerful, until, when nearly two whole years had passed away, my mistress gradually took me again into her confidence, and at last arranged a marriage for me with Nai Tim, one of her favorite men-slaves. To all her plans I offered not a word of objection.I pretended that I was really pleased at the prospect of being free to spend six months of every year with my husband.
"The day before my marriage I was sent to see Nai Tim's mother, with a small present from my mistress. Two strong women accompanied me. Hidden in my p'ha nung (under-skirt) was my purchase-money. As soon as we entered my future mother-in-law's house, I requested permission to speak with her alone. Supposing that I had some private communication to make to her from my mistress, she took me into the back part of the house, and I seated myself on the edge of the bamboo raft, which kept her little hut afloat on the Mèinam, rushing by so strong and swift. Without giving her time to think, I told her my whole story from beginning to end, put the money into her hands, and before the startled woman could refuse or remonstrate I plunged with one sudden bound into the bosom of the broad river. I heard a shriek above me as I disappeared under the waters that received me into their cool, refreshing depths.
"How desperately I swam through the strong currents, coming up to the surface from time to time to draw a long breath, then diving back into its protecting shelter again! Finding my strength failing me, I made for the opposite bank, climbed its steep sides, and dried my clothes in the soft, delicious breezes that came upon me as if just let free from the highest heavens. Filled with the inspiration of freedom and of love, I had accomplished that which had been the beginning and the ending of all my thoughts for so long a time. For one moment it seemed to me an impossibility, but on the next my joy was so excessive that I stooped down and kissed the earth, and then laughed outright.
"From day to day my soul had been slowly withering away, now it blossomed forth afresh as if it had neverknown a moment of sorrow. My glad laughter came back to me, and in very truth, lady, I shall never again rejoice and sing in the desert places of my heart, or in the solitary places of my native land, as I did on that day. In my extreme emotion I forgot that night was a possibility. I could do nothing but rejoice. Suddenly the sun set. The night descended. Darkness covered the earth as with a mantle; the wind began to blow in gusts; I heard strange sounds,—sounds which seemed to come, not from the earth, but from some frightful realm beyond. But I knew there were angels who heard the cries of human distress. I prayed to them to come and hover near me, and as I prayed a deep sleep came upon me.
"When I woke the stars were in the sky, but the strange noises disturbed me so that I fell on my knees and cried, 'O God! where art thou? O, bring the day! come with thy swift chariot and bring the light! come and help thy unworthy handmaiden!' 'To believe,' says the prophet, 'is to have the world renewed every day.' So in answer to my prayer came the angel Gibhrayeel and snatched away the dark mantle of P'hra Khām (the god of night), and swift came P'hra Athiet (the god of day), scattering the shadowy monsters of the world of night, and making his glory fill my heart with praise, even as it filled my glad eyes with light.
"I had been dazzled with the idea of liberty, I had thought only of getting free. But now came the questions, Where shall I go? Who will employ me? And the answer was clear to me. There was no one in all this vast city to whom I could turn but the merchant and his slave-woman D'hamni, and to them I went. It was evening when I entered the hut of the slave D'hamni, footsore, hungry, and weary. D'hamni was overjoyed to see me; she gave me food and shelter and her best robe.
"Some days after the good merchant came to visit me.I felt dimly that the hardness of my heart would be complete if I resisted his kindness. To his celestial tenderness I opposed no word of doubt, yet I could not believe that the rich merchant would marry an outcast slave like me.
"One morning I found robes of pure white in my humble shed, in which D'hamni proceeded to array me. After which she brought me into the presence of the Moolah (Mohammedan priest), the merchant, and a few trusty friends.
"The Moolah quietly put down his hookah (pipe), stood up, and, putting his hands before his face, uttered a short prayer. After this he took the end of my saree (scarf) and bound it securely to the end of the merchant's angrakah (coat), gave us water in which had been dipped the myrtle and jessamine flower, placed a ring of gold on my finger, blessed us, and departed. That was our marriage ceremony.
"During all the days that followed I moved about as one drunk with strong wine; I enjoyed every moment; I thanked God for the sun, the beautiful summer days, the radiant yellow sky, the fresh dawn, and the dewy eve. Light, pure light, shone upon me, and filled my soul with intense delight, and it blossomed out into the perfect flower of happiness.
"One day, about three or four months after my marriage, as I was seated on the steps of my home, I thought I heard a voice whisper in my ear. I had hardly time to turn when I was seized, gagged, bound hand and foot, and brought back to this place. As soon as I was taken into her presence, my mistress had me chained to this post, but caused me to be released when my time of delivery approached. A month after his birth," pointing to the sleeping boy, "I was chained here again, and my child was brought to me to nurse; this was done until he couldcome to me alone. But they are not unkind; when it is very wet the slave-woman takes him to sleep under the shelter of her little shed.
"I could free myself from these chains if I would promise never to quit the palace. That I will never do." She said this in a feeble and almost inarticulate voice. It was her last effort to speak. Her head drooped upon her breast as if an invisible power overwhelmed her at a blow; she fell exhausted upon the stones, her hands clasped, her face buried in the dust.
It was a strange sight, and possible only in Siam. Certainly great misfortunes as well as great affections develop the intelligence, else how had this slave-woman reached the elevation to which she had evidently attained?
But excess of sorrow had made her almost visionary. When I tried to comfort her, she turned her haggard face with its worn-out, weary look upon me, and asked if she had been dreaming. Her brain seemed to be in such an abnormal yet frightfully calm condition, that she half believed she was in a dream, and that her life was not a frightful reality. It was out of my power to comfort her, but I left her with a hope that grew brighter as I retraced my steps out of that weird place.
After some tiresome wanderings I found my way out of the place at last. When I reached the school-room it was twelve o'clock, and my pupils were waiting.
In the afternoon of the same day I went to the house of the Naikodah Ibrahim, and told him that I had seen his wife and child. He was much affected when he heard they were still alive, and was moved to tears when I told him of their sad condition.
That night a deputation of Mohammedans, headed by the Moolah Hâdjee Bâbâ, waited upon me; we drew up a petition to the king, after which I retired, thankful that I was not a Siamese subject.