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Prepared by Harold Stephens
Travel Correspondent for Thai Airways International
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Ayutthaya was once the greatest city in the Far East, if not the entire world. Foreign travellers who arrived in the 17th century claimed that it was even greater than Genoa and Venice at the time. Then, the marauding Burmese came in 1767. They sacked the city; they killed, looted and burned, thus expunging four centuries of Siamese civilization. Six months later, General Taksin succeeded in driving out the Burmese but, rather than rebuild the city, he moved the capital down river to Thonburi across from a tiny fishing village called Bangkok. The magnificent Ayutthaya was soon forgotten and lay in ruin for more than a hundred years until the present kings of Thailand began to restore the old city on a grand scale.
Today Ayutthaya is on the tourist map and considered by many tourist offices as a must for travellers. Royal Orchid Holidays has two programmes for river trips from Bangkok to the old city. Two are day cruises (BKKOP14 and BBKKOP22) and the third is an all-night cruise aboard a rice barge with private cabins and all meals (ROHE47). There is also the Ayutthaya World Heritage tour (BKKOP16) that gives an in-depth perspective of the ancient capital.
The question that regularly comes up is how magnificent, really, was the old city? If all the records were destroyed how do we know for certain what it was like. The city was destroyed, that's true, but the foreigners who traveled here kept records, they wrote books, some of them very detailed, and from these we can learn what the city was like. In researching a historical novel based on fact I have just completed, I delved into every record and textbook I could find from that period. The story I wrote about is the tale of a shipwrecked Greek sailor who in 1680 landed in Siam, won the favour of King Narai and rose to be his Prime Minister. I've attempted to capture the mood of the city and what it entailed to sail up the Chao Phraya River (called the Menam then) to reach Ayutthaya. I would like to quote from that book; but first let me fill in some background.
One of the great periods in the history of Ayutthaya was during the reign of King Narai. It was during his reign that foreigners were invited to engage in trade and business. King Narai opened the Kingdom's doors to the outside world. The English, the French, the Dutch, they all came. (The Portuguese were already here.) The French sent two envoys and established an embassy. These were the times of opportunities for foreigners, and many took advantage of it.
Englishman George Burnaby, like King Narai and the Greek sailor, was a real person. I begin with him from my book, "For the Love of Siam," when he arrived in Ayutthaya as an officer with East Indian Company: Eighteen days after departing Melaka, HMS Hopewell arrived at Ayutthaya. The last three days were painfully slow, waiting for the incoming tides to carry the trading square-rigger upriver, mooring to kedging posts while the tides ebbed. At the lower Menam there was hardly enough wind to carry the ship upriver and tacking in close quarters required the effort of the entire crew. Hopewell arrived at the southern gate of the city in the darkness, with an exhausted crew, and dropped anchor mid stream. It was a mystifying world of strange sounds George Burnaby heard as he stood at the rail staring into the night. There was little he could see-the glow of lamps of other ships at anchor, the flickering of fires on shore, and an occasional flare of light that rose up from the city. A signal of some sort, Burnaby surmised. From out of the dark came strange sounds- the tongues of voices from other ships he couldn't understand. They were shouts of ships' crews working their anchors, and the call of boatmen paddling their scows and sampans to-and-fro from shore. He could only peer into the darkness, wondering what lay ahead for him in this strange land. . .
The story continues: He slept little that night, awakened now and then by the sound of chain rattling in the hawse as the ship swung on its anchor with the shifting tide. He was wide awake at the first light of dawn, summoned by a frail light that filtered though his open porthole. He arose, and, in the darkness below deck, he felt his way along the corridor to the ladder that led topside. He stepped on deck, nodded to the marine on watch, took out his pipe and found a place to sit on a forward hatch. The river was still at this hour, with a mist rising from the water. The shimmers of red sky in the east gave hint that dawn was approaching. He looked out upon the scene as one might upon a giant mosaic and he had yet to comprehend where all the pieces might fit. As night turned to day forms began to slowly take shape. Far down river, ships in line pulled at their anchors, a continuum of ships that faded away into a blur in the mist. There seemed to be no end to the vessels at anchor, stretching for what appeared to be several miles. Ships from more nations than he could count- Chinese junks with their high sterns, Macassar schooners from the Dutch East Indies, Arab dhows from the African coast, square riggers from the West, lighters and barges, skiffs and prows- they all came to engage in the business of trade.
Continued: Baffled by the magnitude of what lay down river, Burnaby turned to face the other direction, toward the town, and a sight even more startling befell him. Like a picture in a book of children's fairytales, Ayutthaya loomed up before him, the kingdom of the East he had heard so much about but which few Westerners had ever visited. Was he feasting upon an allusion? Were his eyes deceiving him? This was a city even mightier than Genoa and Venice? Only a cable or two from where Hopewell was anchored, edging its way to the river, was a massive brick wall, crumbling in places, under repair in others. Even at this early morning hour, work on the wall had begun. An army of labourers, bent under the weight of heavy wicker baskets of bricks, carried their loads to hoists that lifted the bricks up the wall to where masons worked cementing them into place. Elephants in the dozens rolled heavy logs along the embankment, logs which formed the foundation for the scaffolding.
Continued: Above and behind the wall, in towering masses of masonry, rose the magnificent kingdom of the East called Ayutthaya. As he sat there, mesmerized by the dazzling beauty of the scene before him, the sun slowly began to appear from over the tops of trees in the distance and, as it did, it cast a red glow upon an assortment of domes and spires, of temples and stupas, and of palaces with many tiered, upturned roofs, all festooned with Nagas at the eves, each pointing skyward. Freckled patches of gold on the temples sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight. The sight was overpowering. The great Menam flowed along the southern wall of the city, and here flat bottom scows and barges were run up high on the bank of the river, unloading their cargoes carried ashore from ships at anchor.
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A sketch of Ayutthaya made in 1685.
Ayutthaya today, Compare the gate to photo made in
1685
Rubble from the old gate remains
The silhouette of temples, same as King Narai??Ts
day
The Chao Phraya seen here was once lined with
vessels at anchor
A tower of old remains
A Japanese trading junk moored at Ayutthaya
Europeans as depicted by the Siamese in this
painting
Foreigners in Ayutthaya, Europeans, Chinese,
Muslims, Arabs
King Narai the Great by a French artist
Boys wave from top of an ancient rampart
Who says there are not fish in the Chao Phraya?
Feeding time
The last kilometres on the river, 147 klm from the
sea
The canals of Ayutthaya are very much like
Venice
Not all had been destroyed by the Burmese in
1767
The old capital is a major tourist attraction
Wat Cheong, not all temples are crumbling ruins
Kids frolic in the klongs of Ayutthaya
Inside Guide gives us a complete picture on the old
capital
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Burnaby was met by George White, another character from out of the pages of history, who led him along with their Sikh guards into the city.
Continued: They passed through the huge gate- constructed of heavy timbers, crossed with beams and studded with bolts- and entered another world. Within the confines of the wall there were more waterways, a labyrinth of canals, which they called klongs. Upon the klongs were more vessels, congested together- sampans, barges, scows, even bundles of bamboo that served as crude rafts used for transporting people and goods. There was hardly room through the center of the klongs for watercraft to move, but they did manage, aided by shouts and warnings. Some boats were rowed, oddly enough by a man or woman standing upright, deftly crossing the handle of one oar over the other. Some were paddled and still others sculled by single oars aft. They came upon more boats, long and slender, beautifully carved and gilded in gold, their crews in wonderfully bright uniforms, standing by. "They are at the beckon of the king," explained White. White knew the city well. "Ayutthaya is divided into quarters and each quarter by wide boulevards," he explained. "The king's quarters, of course, are the finest but taboo for the likes of us." White pointed them out as they passed. Through a wide gate flanked by guards clutching long javelins in each hand they could see beyond the opening great squares and tree-shaded walks, with the grand houses farther back where the nobility lived. Everywhere were sparkling pagodas with pointed roofs.
Continued: They came upon a huge, splendid temple which White said was the Royal Wat. "We should take a quick look inside," he said and led Burnaby up the steps to the entrance. While the Sikhs waited outside, they entered and, once inside, Burnaby could do little else but stand in awe before a statue of a magnificent golden Buddha that he judged to be more than eleven metres high. It was molded in gold-solid gold, White said- and surrounded by many lesser golden idols inlaid with precious stones. "Everything in the temple is of gold," White announced. "See, the vases, the candlesticks, everything. The gold, where do they get all the gold? It's given to the king, presented to him, as tribute from the rulers of Cambodia, Laos, Anna and other neighboring countries. When you've got might in the East you've got wealth. Simple as that. Wait till you see the king's war elephants, thousands of the critters, and then you'll understand."
They passed through one quarter after another, quarters that were assigned to foreigners: Chinese, Portuguese, Japanese, Muslims and Europeans. The houses where these foreigners lived were brick and well built. The streets were all cobblestone. Foreigners lived splendidly. Burnaby was impressed.
At times it was a chore to make their way through the masses of people shoving and pushing every which way through streets, people of every dress, from every country of the East. Some streets were less crowded than others, those without shops and storehouses. These were lined with trees that provided shade and made walking much easier. A few streets were paved with bricks, while others, the majority, were rutted from the wheels of heavy ox carts, and these were dusty. Elephants, with carved howdahs upon their backs where passengers sat, stirred up dust as they wobbled down the centers of the streets and roadways. Elephants always had the right of way. Water buffalo by the score grazed along the banks of the klongs. Young boys attending the buffalo lay sound asleep and stretched out, face down, on the wide generous backs of the buffalo, their naked bodies mud covered, as were the buffalo. At other klongs, boys, frolicking as boys do everywhere, dove from the banks and others from trees into the muddy water, shouting and screaming as they did, calling attention to the two white men as they passed. The entire city was intersected by klongs, and some had become slums where the people lived aboard the tiny sampans. The stench here was terrible. Over the klong were bridges, not merely a few but bridges at every turn. One was never out of sight of a bridge over a klong. Some bridges were arched, elaborately made, constructed of brick, while others were fashioned from bamboo, so narrow and flimsy only skilled pedestrians could pass over them. A real balancing act, Burnaby thought, and he wondered if the day would come when he too would be able to manage them.
Next week I will continue. This past week I hired a boat and toured the klongs of Ayutthaya. What a grand experience it was, to be reliving the past. I felt, at times, that I might see King Narai and the Greek sailor coming around a bend.
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Questions and Answers
Q.Dear Mr. Stephens. I read with interest your articles on train travel in Asia. I am wondering if, when I come to Bangkok, I can travel by train to China. I cannot find the information anywhere. I would be pleased if you could tell me. -Susan Pyper, Los Angeles
A. Dear Ms. Pyper, I am afraid there are no trains from Thailand to China. The bottleneck is Laos. The only way to reach China by train from Southeast Asia is via Vietnam. There is a train from Bangkok to the Cambodian border but from there to Vietnam travel is by bus and not recommended. The best way is to fly from Bangkok to Ho Chi Mihn City and take the train to Hanoi and then into China. I have not made the trip but I hear it is a good one. ROH Weekly Travel Feature is intended to inspire readers to travel. Now it’s vice versa. Your letter inspired me to make the trip. Thank you. -HS
Harold Stephens
Bangkok
E-mail: ROH Weekly Travel
Note: The article is the personal view of the writer and does not necessarily reflect the view of Thai Airways International Public Company Limited.
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Next week I ask readers to join me on a klong
cruise of Ayutthaya
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