Dutch East India Company Merchants

at the Court of Ayutthaya

 TANAP Monographs
on the History of the
Asian-European Interaction
Edited by
Leonard Blussé (General Editor)

Project coordinator: Hendrik E. Niemeijer

VOLUME 8
Dutch East India Company
Merchants at the Court of
Ayutthaya
Dutch Perceptions of the Thai Kingdom
c. 1604-1765

By

Bhawan Ruangsilp

LEIDEN • BOSTON
2007
The TANAP programme is funded by the Netherlands Organization for Scientific Research
(NWO).

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

ISSN 1871-6938
ISBN 978 90 04 15600 5

© Copyright 2007 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands.

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 SERIES EDITOR’S FOREWORD

Probably nowhere in the world have such profound changes in historio-

graphy been occurring as in the nation states of Monsoon Asia that gained
independence after the conclusion of the Pacific War in 1945. These tra-
ditionally outward-looking countries on the rims of the Indian Ocean
and the Eastern Seas have been interacting with each other through mar-
itime transport and trade for more than two millennia, but the exigencies
of modern nation-building have tended to produce state-centred histori-
cal narratives that emphasize a distinctive heritage and foster cultural
pride and identity on the basis of such heroic themes as anti-colonial
resistance. No one will deny the need for and utility of such “nation-
building” agendas, but an inward-directed national historiography does
not necessarily prepare one’s citizens for our present age of regional co-
operation and globalization.
In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the coastal societies of
Monsoon Asia witnessed the entry of European traders, the emergence of
global maritime trading networks, and the laying of the foundations of
colonial empires that reached their apogees in the nineteenth and twenti-
eth centuries. The difficulties of studying this pre-colonial and early colo-
nial past should not be underestimated. Local sources are often rare
because of wars and the frequent changes of both indigenous and colonial
regimes. The hot and humid tropical climate is also unkind to the preser-
vation of manuscripts. The mass of western-language data preserved in
the archives of the former East India companies and those of the Spanish
and Portuguese empires in Asia often have an undeniably Europe-centred
character and bias. Thus we face not only a highly imbalanced supply of
source material, but also the very complex problem of how to decode the
hidden agendas that often colour these primary materials.
Over the past fifty years there has been a pronounced effort in academ-
ic circles in North America, Australia and the former European colonial
nations to “decolonize” historical writing on Asian-European interaction,
albeit for reasons totally different from those in their Asian counterparts.
Increasingly doubt has been cast on such longstanding paradigms as the
superiority of the dynamic West over static Asian societies. Historians of
international trade such as the late Holden Furber, whose description of
this period as “The Age of Partnership” inspired the name of the TANAP
programme, have taken an interest in the various ways and means by
which Asian-European interaction began in various kinds of competition,
rivalry, collaboration, diplomacy, and military confrontation. This
vi SERIES EDITOR’S FOREWORD

approach has forced historians to return to the archival sources and the
places where these events unfolded with the result that new frontiers of
research have opened in which close partnerships between Asian and
European historians, with their specific cultural tool kits and linguistic
backgrounds, is now starting to reap fruit.
In anticipation of the four hundredth anniversary of the establishment
of the Dutch East India Company in 1602, members of the history
department of Leiden University proposed the establishment of an inter-
national research programme aimed at training a new generation of Asian
historians of Asian-European interaction in the early modern period. It
was taken for granted that any such drive towards international educa-
tional co-operation should be carried out in carefully planned collabora-
tion with the National Archives in the Hague, the Arsip Nasional of the
Republic of Indonesia in Jakarta and the archives of Cape Town (South
Africa), Colombo (Sri Lanka) and Chennai (India), which together hold
several kilometres of archival data from the former Verenigde Oostindische
Compagnie. The TANAP – Towards a New Age of Partnership – educa-
tional and archival preservation programme was started in 2000 thanks to
generous grants from the Dutch Ministry of Education, Culture and
Science, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Netherlands Organization
for Scientific Research (NWO), the Netherlands Foundation for the
Advancement of Tropical Research (WOTRO), the Netherlands
UNESCO commission, and Leiden University. Twelve universities in
Asia sent some thirty young lecturers to Leiden during 2001-2003. Under
the auspices of the Research Institute for Asian-African and Amerindian
Studies (CNWS), these historians participated in an advanced master’s
programme that included intensive courses on historiography, palaeogra-
phy and the old Dutch written language.
With additional funding from several Asian foundations, in 2002
seventeen of the TANAP graduates from Sri Lanka, India, Singapore,
Indonesia, Thailand, Vietnam, China, Taiwan, Japan, South Africa, and
the Netherlands began working towards a PhD degree at Leiden. Three
others went on to pursue their doctorates at universities elsewhere in the
world. The TANAP Monographs on Asian-European Interaction, which
include two studies on early modern South African society, are the off-
spring of their doctoral theses defended at Leiden.

Leonard Blussé, University of Leiden

 CONTENTS

Acknowledgements x
Abbreviations xii
Glossary xiii
Maps xv

Introduction 1
Previous Studies 1
The Topic 3
The Observer: The Dutch East India Company, 1602-1796 5
The Observed: The Court of Ayutthaya, c. 1600-1767 9
Source Material and Structure of the Study 14

Chapter One: The Company and the Court 17

Introduction 17
Trade Partners 18
Political Allies 25
Diplomatic Counterparts 29
Conclusion 34

Chapter Two: The Company Men and Settlement in Siam 35

Introduction 35
Dutch Attitudes to Siamese Law 36
Extraterritoriality: The VOC Men and Siamese Jurisdiction 38
Order and Protection: The VOC Settlement in Siam 41
Conflicts 50
Conclusion 53

Chapter Three: Learning the Language of Ritual: the Dutch at the

Court of King Prasatthong 55
Introduction 55
Dutch-Siamese Diplomatic Exchange 56
Two Hours of Honour: The Dutch Embassy, 1628 57
Two Exhausting Hours: De Roij’s Embassy, 1633 62
The Beginning of the Troubles: Schouten’s Embassy, 1636 64
The Benefit of an Unaccomplished Mission: Van Vliet’s
Embassy, 1641 68
Siam’s Asian Diplomacy: Dutch Observations 70
viii CONTENTS

Siam’s European Diplomacy: The Dutch and the Portuguese

in 1639 74
Dutch Participation in Siamese Court Ceremonies 83
Conclusion 90

Chapter Four: Learning Siam’s Politics: The Case of King

Prasatthong 91
Introduction 91
Theorizing Absolute Rule 91
Contest from Within: The Conflicts of Succession 95
Challenge from Outside: Vassal Rebellions 101
Daily Manipulation: The King’s Men 103
Conclusion 110

Chapter Five: Observing King Narai’s Widening World 111

Introduction 111
The VOC and the Conflicts of Succession of 1656 112
The Dutch and King Narai’s Officials 117
Novelties at Court: The French and Constantine Phaulkon 122
King Narai’s Diplomacy 129
The Material World of King Narai 140
King Narai’s Intellectual World 143
Conclusion 147

Chapter Six: Redefining the Relationships: The Dutch and the

Court of King Phetracha 149
Introduction 149
The Palace Revolution of 1688 150
A ‘Mutual Disappointment’ 155
The ‘Talapoin’ Rebellion of 1689 161
Manipulating the King: Court Members in Dutch Views 164
The Purge of 1699 169
The Change of the Reign, 1703 173
Another Fraught Relationship: The VOC and King Süa 176
Conclusion 179

Chapter Seven: Remain or Leave?: The Dutch and the Eighteenth-

Century Siamese Court 180
Introduction 180
Diplomat or Despot?: Dutch Evaluations of King Borommakot 181
The VOC and the Eighteenth-Century Siamese Officials 192
The VOC as a Cultural Broker between Siam and Kandy 194
Eighteenth-Century Court Politics 199
 CONTENTS ix

The VOC, Kandy, and Siam: The Prince Thepphiphit Episode,

1760-1762 208
The Last Decisions of the Dutch 212
Conclusion 218

Conclusion 221

Notes 225

Appendices 261

Bibliography 265

Index 273
 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The completion of the present study could not have been possible with-
out the support of the TANAP (Towards a New Age of Partnership)
Programme and its staff at Leiden University. First and foremost, I would
like to express my thanks to the leader of the TANAP educational pro-
gramme and my promoter at Leiden University, Professor Leonard Blussé,
who not only puts a great effort into assuring the success of the project
but also takes care of the work of individual students. The programme co-
ordinator Dr Henk Niemeijer has been helpful in many ways.
I may have had doubts in many things in the course of doing this
research but never in the encouragement and guidance of my supervisors,
Professor Peter Rietbergen (Radboud Universiteit Nijmegen) and Dr
Dhiravat na Pombejra (Chulalongkorn University), both inspirational
teachers and exceptional scholars. I thank them for trusting my decisions
and for knowing my limitations and when to intervene.
Professor John E. Wills Jr, Dr Harry Knipschild and Dr Jos Gommans
kindly offered to read part of the monograph. Rosemary Robson not only
corrected the English of my monograph but also showed encouraging
interest in its story. Always busy herself, Cynthia Viallé was very kind to
invest her time and skills voluntarily to improve the final version of the
monograph. The maps were skilfully drawn by my brother Suebsakul
Ruangsilp.
The staff members of the Nationaal Archief, The Hague, the KITLV
Library in Leiden, and the Leiden University Library provided admirable
services. With the kind help of Langgeng Budi, I was allowed to read
some of the VOC documents concerning Siam at the Arsip Nasional
Republik Indonesia, Jakarta, in 2003. Dr Kathryn Anderson Wellen and
her colleagues at the Asian Reading Room, Library of Congress, did their
best to help me explore their remarkable Thai-language collections with-
in a short time in 2005. Dr Han ten Brummelhuis, whose work on the
Dutch-Thai relations inspired my work in several ways, allowed me to
make use of the manuscript of his English translation of Van Nijenrode’s
account on Siam.
I thank my teachers in the Dutch language, Dr Ton Harmsen, Yolande
Spaans and René Wezel, for the lessons as much as for the social activities
they arranged for me and my TANAP colleagues. My special thanks go to
Dr Hugo s’Jacob, who has been the greatest help since I started toddling
through the texts in seventeenth- and eighteenth-century Dutch. He and
Nanda Dijkers have been a great source of comfort on countless occa-
 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS xi

sions. Natalie Everts has been at all times willing to help tackle difficult
texts and to grant gracious conversations in the archive. The ever-effective
Ilonka Ooms and Marijke van Wissen-van Staden may not even realize
how important their efforts were to making life as smooth as possible for
a foreign student like me. Since our co-operation for the commemoration
of 400-years Thai-Dutch relations in 2004, Dr Nandana Chutiwongs
(Rijksmuseum voor Volkenkunde) has been kindly sharing her knowledge
of the contemporary Thai-Dutch relationship with me. I am grateful to
Dr Rudolf Steiert for being my loving ‘surrogate father’ in Europe for the
some twelve years which I spent in Germany and the Netherlands.
My TANAP colleagues from Asia, South Africa, and the Netherlands
have offered me years of cultural and intellectual exchange as much as a
joyful friendship, which made the new age of partnership come true, in
particular: Nazli Aziz, Kwee Hui Kian, Koh Keng We, Liu Yong, Ota
Atsushi, Anjana Singh, Chiu Hsin Hui, Alicia Schrikker, Hoang Anh
Tuan, Supaporn Ariyasasiskul, Binu John Parambil, and Chris Nierstrasz.
Enny Jansen provided, with her characteristic warmth, a place I called
home for two years.
I owe a debt of gratitude to Chulalongkorn University for granting me
a long sabbatical which enabled me to complete my study, together with
a generous book allowance. My former teachers and now colleagues at the
History Department did everything in their power to make sure that I
obtained these necessary privileges, especially the former and present
Heads of the Department, Professor Piyanart Bunnag, Associate Professor
Suwadee Thanaprasitpattana, Associate Professor Pipada Youngcharoen,
and Assistant Professor Sawitri Charoenpong.
Last but not least, I would like to express my deepest gratitude to my
family who tolerated my absence for all these years. Their sacrifice allowed
me to follow in the footsteps of my historian grandfather, Chai Ruangsilp.
It was a small relief, though, to know that I left them in the good compa-
ny of our ‘friends in the house’, who also deserve a word of appreciation
here. This book is dedicated to my family with love and gratitude.
 ABBREVIATIONS

BKI Bijdragen tot de taal-, land- en volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië

CIO Compagnie des Indes Orientales, the French East India Company
EIC The English East India Company
JAS Journal of Asian Studies
JSEAS Journal of Southeast Asian Studies
JSS Journal of the Siam Society
JRAS Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society
JRASSL Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society Sri Lanka
KITLV Koninklijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde, Leiden
MAS Modern Asian Studies
SEAR South East Asia Research
SLNA Sri Lanka National Archive
VOC (Archives of the) Verenigde Oostindische Compagnie, the Dutch East India
Company
 GLOSSARY

C.: Chinese; D.: Dutch; M.: Malay; T.: Thai

bahar (M.) a measure of weight: 1 bahar = 300 catties

ban (T.) village; community under the responsibility of a nai
bunga emas dan perak (M.) silver and golden flowers used as tributary gifts (bu-nga
mat in Thai)
catty (Thai chang) (M.) a monetary unit: 1 catty = about 112.8-144.0 guilders;
a measure of weight: 1 catty = about 6 hectogram
chao (T.) royalty, princes
chaofa (T.) prince(s) born of a queen
chulasakkarat (T.) the Lesser Era (CS)
comptoir or factorij (D.) the local office of the VOC
dagregister(s) (D.) diary/diaries
kampong (M.) village; camp or settlement
khunnang (T.) nobility, officials
Khlang (T.) the Treasury Department
krom (T.) household(s) of the prince(s); or administrative division(s)
of the official(s)
krommun
kromkhun
kromluang
kromphra (T.) conferred ranks of the princes (in ascending order)
Krom Tha Sai (T.) Department of Eastern Maritime Affairs and Crown Junks
Krom Tha Khwa (T.) Department of Western Maritime Affairs
laken (D.) woollen textile, broadcloth
last (D.) a measure of weight: 1 last = 1,250 kilogram
mahatlek (T.) royal page(s)
nai (T.) master(s); head(s) of the ban
namrak black liquid lacquer
okmun, mun
okkun, khun
okluang, luang
okphra, phra
okya, phraya
chao phraya (T.) ranks of Thai officials (in ascending order)
opperhoofd(en) (D.) head(s) of VOC’s local office in Ayutthaya
phrai (T.) freeman, freemen
prahu (M.) barge(s)
Phrakhlang (T.) Ministry of External Relations and Maritime Trading Affairs
of Ayutthaya, its Minister
phutthasakkarat (T.) the Buddhist Era (BE)
recognitiegelden (D.) fees given by the VOC to the Siamese Treasury Department
(recognitiepenningen) in lieu of taxes
resident (D.) head of the VOC’s local office, lower-ranking than
opperhoofd
rijksdaalder(s) (D.) coin. 1 rijksdaalder = about 3 guilders
roede(n) (D.) a measure of length: 1 Amsterdam roede = 4.53 metres
sangha (T.) Buddhist clergy
sakdi na (T.) dignity marks
xiv GLOSSARY

tael (Thai tamlueng) (C.) a monetary unit: 20 taels = 1 catty; a measure of weight:
1 tael = 30 gram
tra (T.) seal; official document carrying a seal
Syahbandar (M.) harbour master
Uparat (T.) the second-highest-ranking prince after the king, often heir
apparent
wat (T.) Buddhist temple
wang (T.) palace, princely residence
Wangna (T.) the Front Palace, the residence of the Uparat
Map 1 The Kingdom of Ayutthaya in Asia
xvi MAPS

Map 2 The Kingdom of Ayutthaya and its Neighbours

 MAPS xvii

Map 3 Ayutthaya and its Surroundings

 INTRODUCTION

The period between the sixteenth and the eighteenth centuries was
labelled an ‘Age of Partnership’ between Europeans and Asians by Holden
Furber. He asserted that relations between European traders and settlers
and their hosts in the Asian environments during these centuries were
based on mutual respect and partnership, which distinguishes this period
from the following ‘Age of Imperialism’.1 In her pioneering study To Live
as Brothers, Barbara Watson Andaya has later suggested that we should
view the early modern European-Asian interactions against the back-
ground of a more general process in which Europeans began to see them-
selves as significantly different from the rest of the world. ‘As Europe’s
mercantile interests reached out further into the non-European environ-
ment, it was commonly in the marketplace and the audience hall that a
sense of these differences was keenest.’2 In his study using European pub-
lished source material, Jürgen Osterhammel names the eighteenth centu-
ry as the time of ‘die Entzauberung Asiens’, the disenchantment with
Asia, in the European view. The loss of fascination with the Orient was
the logical consequence of the rise of Euro-centrism in the European
intellectual world.3
This work examines the interactions between the European employees
of the Dutch East India Company, or the VOC as is its Dutch acronym,
and the members of the royal court of Ayutthaya, usually referred to as
the Kingdom of Siam in contemporary Western sources. I argue that
these contacts, which took place in and around the audience hall, exem-
plify the co-existence of ‘partnership’—conditional rather than born of
authentic mutual respect—and ‘sense of differences’. To study them will
broaden our understanding of how the participants in these cross-cultur-
al interactions managed, tried, or failed to work in partnership and to
balance their differences.

Previous Studies

The relations between Ayutthaya and Europe have been generally exam-
ined as part of the study of the history of Thailand. Only a few case stud-
ies have been dedicated to the specific aspects of the historical relation-
ship itself. Some of them accentuate contrasting cultural models and con-
flicts, while others take the position that a conditional partnership and
balance of interests did indeed exist.
2 INTRODUCTION

Studies adapting the first approach often concentrate on the seven-

teenth century, especially the reign of King Narai (r. 1656-88), when
Ayutthaya became deeply entangled in an alliance with the French. The
earliest works, by John Anderson and E. W. Hutchinson, point to enthu-
siasm of Siam for the West in the seventeenth century, in contrast with
the scepticism of the Thai towards the Europeans in the following centu-
ry. Hutchinson, whose work is based on English and French sources,
argues the turning point was the Palace Revolution of 1688 which
marked the end of the openness of King Narai’s Siam to the outside
world, and the beginning of the era of self-isolationism under the Ban
Phlu Luang Dynasty (1688-1767)—starting with the former leader of the
revolution, King Phetracha (r. 1688-1703)—which ultimately prevented
Siam from catching up with Western progress.4 Hutchinson’s interpreta-
tion fits in well into the broader discourse on the history of eighteenth-
century Ayutthaya which revolves around the theme of ‘decline’.5 This
perception of the decline of Ayutthaya among historians is undoubtedly
influenced by its disastrous defeat at Burmese hands in 1767.
In more recent studies, Dirk van der Cruysse focuses on the story of the
unsuccessful trade and the failed ‘colonization of souls’ by the French in
Siam between the 1660s and 1680s. Contrary to Hutchinson, who
blamed the nationalistic and anti-foreign attitudes of the revolutionary
leaders for the breach between the Thai and the French in 1688, Van der
Cruysse has emphasized the contrastive mentalities between host and
guest, but especially the intolerance on the French side.6
More light has been shed on the partnership between the Europeans
and the Thai during the early modern period by those who have
researched the VOC-Dutch sources. In his pioneering work using these
sources to study Thai history, George Vinal Smith examined the develop-
ment of political, commercial, and social contacts between the Dutch and
the Thai in the seventeenth century. His research both undermines the
notion of the superiority of the VOC in terms of organization and capi-
tal as the springboards which gave it an advantage over its competitors
and emphasizes the study of the cruciality of diplomatic relations as an
aspect of the Company’s dealings with Ayutthaya, determined merely by
the perceived relative importance of the commercial potential of the king-
dom.7 In his survey of the relations between Thailand and the Nether-
lands—also covering the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries—Han ten
Brummelhuis ascribes the VOC-Dutch merchants the additional roles of
diplomats and courtiers.8 The multifarious qualities of the VOC employ-
ees in Siam reflect both the adaptability of the Europeans to the local sit-
uation and the strength of the Asian host society which forced the
Europeans to adapt. Various works using the VOC sources by Dhiravat
na Pombejra have demonstrated how the Dutch survived politically and
 INTRODUCTION 3

continued to maintain their presence in Siam, even after the expulsion of

the English and then the French in the 1680s. The continuing commer-
cial contacts of Siam with the Dutch and other foreigners disprove the
notion that, after the 1688 Revolution, the kingdom had withdrawn from
contacts with the outside world. Eighteenth-century Ayutthaya was by no
means in decline; instead, the kingdom and its court were still commer-
cially and culturally prospering.9
Older studies have tended to explain the Dutch naval blockade of the
mouth of the Chao Phraya River in 1663 and 1664 as the outcome of
Western colonialist ambition, and have argued that King Narai conse-
quently used the English and the French to counterbalance a Dutch
threat.10 Tempering this, the revisionist view points out the limited nature
of the friction between the Ayutthayan court and the VOC in the 1660s.11
Dhiravat has suggested that, if King Narai had tried to play off the
European powers against each other, the need for a ‘closer’ French alliance
to relieve the pressure exerted by the Dutch would have arisen later, in the
1680s, when the VOC had become a real power in the region and had
begun to pursue a more robust policy in its dealings with the King.
However, once again, both sides were willing to solve the conflict quick-
ly and by peaceful means.12
Two studies deal particularly with Ayutthayan court society and culture
in the seventeenth century as seen through eyes of the Westerners. In his
anthropological analysis of the ritual surrounding the Siamese kings,
Jeremy Kemp has again pointed to the cultural differences: the inability
of the European observers to see that the whole concept of Siamese king-
ship justified whatever the king chose to do.13 Another work by Dhiravat
shows that Western observers were more perceptive and sometimes flexi-
ble in their interpretations. They did not feel that ritual and politics were
the sole important factors in Siamese court life, but also took account of
the ‘trivia’ of life, such as the material culture at court. It was from these
factors that the Europeans acquired their understanding of the power of
their host, on whose mercy their personal and professional lives relied.14

The Topic

If the title of the monograph suggests a Eurocentric view of Dutch-Thai

relations, this is, in a sense, inevitable since a study of the interactions
between Europe and Ayutthaya on equal terms is restricted by the limit-
ed number of indigenous—written and archaeological—sources. To over-
come the scarcity of Thai sources and expand their knowledge of Thai
society, historians of Ayutthaya have been forced to seek evidence in for-
eign sources. Among these foreign records are the archives of the VOC,
4 INTRODUCTION

which, despite their accessibility, are still under-explored for the study of
Thai history. Given the great length and the organizational character of
its presence in Thailand, the VOC was the only (European) outsider
which systematically documented changes and developments in
Ayutthaya from the beginning of the seventeenth century to the disinte-
gration of the kingdom in the wake of Burmese invasions, which reached
a fatal climax in early 1767. Notwithstanding their long presence and
involvement, the Dutch are virtually absent from the royal chronicles of
Ayutthaya. Therefore, the scantiness of Thai sources forces us to make an
effort to undertake a close, non-partisan reading of Dutch perceptions of
Ayutthaya to learn about Dutch-Thai relations.
In a broad sense, perception can be defined as a ‘cognitive’, ‘active’, and
‘selective’ search of an ‘ordered world’.15 Perceiving itself is an act of con-
struction which is guided by the pre-concept of the observer as well as
influenced by the immediate circumstances around him. The concept of
‘cross-cultural interaction’, which serves as my analytical category,
reminds us of the reciprocal character of the exchange between host and
guest, as Jurrien van Goor posits:
One of the great advantages of this model is that questions such as whether
to employ a European or Asia-centred approach lose their importance and
relevance. Interaction presupposes that all players are taken equally seriously
and that no one will be consigned to the side-scenes beforehand.16
Although we have to rely rather heavily on Dutch perceptions, we will
only be able to really understand them if we try to comprehend the local
environment in which the Dutch were functioning.
From the beginning of the sixteenth century, actively participating in
an ‘Age of Commerce’ in Asia,17 a considerable number of Thai—elite and
non-elite—came into contact with a novelty, European merchants and
missionaries in Asia. Admittedly, the Dutch observers did not complete-
ly ignore the life and plight of commoners. Yet, being traders, they
naturally focused their attention on the institution which controlled
Ayutthaya’s foreign trade: the royal court, which was both the major agent
in Thai society, politics, and culture, and the key partner of the Dutch.
Especially, the close link between the political power and the economic
dominance of the Thai court elite constantly forced the Dutch to look
for ‘who’ were in power—to grant or to obstruct their wishes—and how
to reach or avoid these ‘who’. For that reason, a thorough knowledge of
the state of power relations—both within Siamese court society and
between this host and themselves—was essential to the survival of the
Dutch in Siam. In the context of this study, following Ten Brummelhuis
I consider the Company men not purely as merchants but also as diplo-
mats and courtiers. Siam offers an interesting case study showing how
foreign agents like the VOC employees worked their way into a local
 INTRODUCTION 5

system, becoming embedded in it and yet remaining different from it.

It is important to investigate how power was negotiated and contested
in the everyday reality of the court of Ayutthaya because, as David K.
Wyatt has asserted: ‘[The] king was theoretically absolute, but in every-
day reality, power in this political system was constantly being negotiated
and contested; and royal “absolutism” was more an ideal to be striven for
than a reality already achieved.’18 The VOC men, too, looked for clues to
power relations which they found not only by asking who had the legiti-
macy to impose the rule of law and to use force, but also, equally impor-
tant, by analysing the expressions of power and authority in the ‘pomp’ of
court ritual19 and in observing the collective and individual behaviour of
the court members. The last point was extremely important to bear in
mind in the political and bureaucratic culture of Ayutthaya, the acquisi-
tion and display of wealth, and the processes of access to and control of
information.
The author of this work also wants to ascertain how the VOC-Dutch
observers developed their processes of understanding and representing the
Siamese court, and what factors were decisive in the construction of
Dutch knowledge of the court and in the creation of a sense of difference
between the two cultures. This constructed knowledge may not always
have been accurate from a present-day historian’s viewpoint, or would
necessarily correspond to the self-perception of the early modern Thai.
I attempt to analyse the historical construction of codes of practice,
which, in the case of the Dutch in Thai society, defined right and wrong,
normal and abnormal, agreeable and not agreeable. These perceptions
certainly affected the relationships between the VOC and the Siamese
court. Yet, we must also remind ourselves that they did not always deter-
mine the actions of the Dutch. In many cases, the ultimate decisions were
influenced by the interaction between circumstances both in Siam and in
the wider worlds of Asia and Europe. Importantly, discrepancies between
perception and action often arose out of the ultimate incompatibility
between cultural models, on the one hand, and pragmatism, on the other.

The Observer: The Dutch East India Company, 1602-1796

[I]t is commonplace and to a certain extent the truth to say that the Dutch
East India Company is not just a Company of commerce but also of state.
Thus wrote Coenraad van Beuningen, a director of the Dutch East India
Company (Amsterdam Chamber), of his company in 1685.20 In a similar
vein, scholars have referred to the VOC as a ‘merchant-warrior’21 and a
‘merchant prince’22, which also suggests the hybrid character—commer-
cial and political—of the institution.23 Established in 1602, it was
6 INTRODUCTION

designed to be a device both of maritime trade and of war, in the context

of the highly competitive European overseas expansion continuing from
the previous century and of the prolonged independence struggle
between the Dutch Republic and the Spanish Habsburg monarchy since
1568. Once it had set foot in Asia, this commercial maritime power
developed into a territorial ruler as well. It not only took over existing
trading routes but also styled itself a government according to local cir-
cumstances. If the Company were a hybrid itself, the behaviour of the
men it employed was also ambivalent, as Reinout Vos sums up, in so
doing reflecting the views of many scholars:
How could the champion of the free seas and republicanism so easily become
the servant of a rigidly hierarchical organization that embodied everything
so despised in the homeland: monopolism rather than private trade; ‘mare
clausum’ rather than ‘mare liberum’, and monarchism rather than a govern-
ment of free citizens.24
As an association of private merchants, the VOC was determined to act
as independently as possible in Asia. Its founding charter allowed it a
great deal of freedom in negotiating trade, concluding treaties, and wag-
ing war in the world east of the Cape of Good Hope. The Company was
entitled to build and govern forts and settlements, to appoint officials in
the field, and to oversee the Dutch Reformed Church in Asia. Yet, in
some aspects, it remained answerable to the States General of the
Republic, which periodically reviewed the general state of affairs in the
East and approved the instructions to the VOC Governors in Asia.
Hence, the military and naval commanders and diplomats of the
Company in the East were required to swear a double oath of allegiance,
to both the Company and the States General.25 In the Netherlands, direc-
tion and control were exercised by the executive board, the Meeting of the
Gentlemen Seventeen (Heren XVII). In Asia, the Governor-General stood
at the apex of the administration, presiding over the High Government
(Hoge Regering) in Batavia, and governed with the consent of the Council
of the Indies (Raad van Indië). The High Government’s policies were
implemented by the local directors of the VOC’s trading-posts (factorijen
or comptoiren) all over Asia.26
Soon, the VOC realized that direct trade between Europe and Asia
alone would not be sufficient to enable it to survive, since there were not
enough goods and money coming in from Europe to pay for the Asian
commodities required. The Company tried to solve the problem by
increasing its share in the intra-Asian trade as much as possible. Its pri-
mary goal was to acquire precious metals (especially from Japan) to trade
for the goods it obtained elsewhere in Asia, in their turn for the purchase
of the Asian products needed for Europe.27
The position of the VOC differed from place to place, as did its
 INTRODUCTION 7

strategy and success. All these were determined by the strengths and
weaknesses, or the degree of co-operation and resistance, of the indige-
nous elite and the local system.28 For example, while the Dutch were suc-
cessful in their ongoing attempt to dominate the Indonesian Archipelago,
they had no option but to adjust to the markets and politics of China and
Japan. Leonard Blussé has defined the main strategies of the VOC in con-
ducting foreign relations as ‘conqueste’ and ‘schenkagie’. The former
represented the ‘conquest of land or the coercion of favourable trade con-
ditions through the medium of violence’; the latter stood for the ‘pursuit
of favourable trading conditions through gifts and diplomacy’.29 Both
these methods to achieve a monopoly position in the desired commodity
might prove to be a financial risk at times, especially when the Company
failed to obtain the commercial advantages it needed.
Commercial gain and territorial expansion were inseparable parts of
the Company’s dealings in its interaction with both its European com-
petitors and its Asian counterparts. The Dutch developed their footholds
in Asia by seizing strategic maritime locations from indigenous rulers as
well as from other European colonizers. After their first arrival in the
Indonesian Archipelago in 1595, they managed to seize Jakarta and con-
vert it into their rendezvous, Batavia, in 1619, a move which allowed
them to co-ordinate their shipping operations in the Indian Ocean and
the China Sea.30 In some cases, the Company allowed itself to be drawn
into Asian or Asian-European conflicts by indigenous rulers who sought
to make use of Dutch power, notably in and around Java. In Ceylon (Sri
Lanka), the King of Kandy, too, asked the VOC to help expel the
Portuguese, but in fact only replaced one foreign occupant with another.
Political conflicts in Europe were used to justify European actions in Asia:
the Dutch attacked the Portuguese in the East on the grounds that
Portugal was, between 1580 and 1640, in a political union with their
enemy, the Spanish Crown. They outmanoeuvred the Portuguese in Japan
and in Ceylon in the 1630s and ultimately captured Malacca from them
in 1641. However, their attempts to attack Portuguese Macao and
Spanish Manila failed. After 1700, the maritime expansion of the VOC
was stopped and the emphasis was shifted to a territorial development of
power, especially in Java and Ceylon; the Dutch had become a ‘saturated’
power in both Europe and Asia.31
In early modern Asia, in many cases foreign traders had to negotiate
directly with the local rulers who kept a close control of trade and exer-
cised their supervision from their court. A trading company like the VOC
had to provide its employees with diplomatic credentials which would
allow them to access these ‘royal merchants’ according to local protocol.32
The Governor General and Council in Batavia were fully authorized to
send out envoys and to receive foreign representatives. Consequently,
8 INTRODUCTION

while the power of the Company was growing, the High Government of
Batavia also developed into a centre of diplomacy and diplomatic ritual.33
The foreign rulers with whom the Company maintained relations can be
classified into four categories. At the top of the tree, there were the impe-
rial rulers, such as the Great Mughal of India, the Shah of Persia, the
Emperor of China, and the Shogun of Japan. The second group consist-
ed of powerful princes who exercised sovereignty over surrounding vassal
states and yet themselves lived in a tributary relation to the rulers of the
first category, among them the King of Siam who was the suzerain of
some adjacent polities but also regularly sent tribute to the Chinese
Emperor. Thirdly, there were princes whose loyalty shifted from one
suzerain to another. The last group was made up of petty rulers who
sometimes submitted to sovereign rulers, and sometimes to other, non-
sovereign rulers.34
From the 1680s, the VOC could no longer rely on the export of
Japanese precious metals and had to withdraw from or adapt itself in sev-
eral areas in the network of the intra-Asian trade. Although by then the
Company was facing greater difficulties, such as coping with the shifting
pattern of European demand for Asian commodities, corruption among
its personnel, and competition from the English, it managed to survive
till the end of the eighteenth century. It was the last Anglo-Dutch War
(1780-4) which eventually ruined the financial resilience of the VOC and
propelled the Company into bankruptcy in 1796, before it was formally
dissolved on 1 January 1800.35
At an early stage of the encounter between Europe and Asia, their soci-
eties were actually not much different. In many places, the Europeans and
the Asians were experiencing a growing bureaucratic style of government
which strove to accomplish the centralization of power and resources; a
rise of a commercial elite; social order maintained by harsh judicial pro-
cedures; and societies in which pomp and circumstance were a means to
economic, social, and political power.36 In the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries, Europeans explained their distinctiveness from and superiority
to non-Western peoples in terms of their observance of Christianity—as
a religion and as a culture—since this was deemed to indicate a higher
level of morality, rather than deriving it from their mastery of the materi-
al world, especially production of goods and trade practices. Most early
European observers possessed only a limited knowledge of the scientific
and technological accomplishments of their age, with the exception of the
advance in weaponry and warships. Many of them often were impressed
by the material culture of the upper classes in India, China, Japan, and
some South-East Asian states. However, Europeans soon became aware of
their increasing differences from the rest of the world—intellectually and
materially—, differences which were partly generated by their growing
 INTRODUCTION 9

knowledge of and competition with Asian cultures. Scientific advances,

the ideas of the Enlightenment and constitutional monarchy shaped the
way how Europeans looked at Asian religions, life-styles, and forms of
government. The Industrial Revolution in the late eighteenth century, fol-
lowed by the communications and medical revolutions in the following
century contributed to the improvement in the quality of life in the West.
During these processes, technology became the main tool to measure
human achievement from the European point of view.37
The VOC was a European institution which, during the seventeenth
and eighteenth centuries, increasingly exerted a formative effect on
knowledge of Asia in Europe.38 The motivations which inspired the
Company men to observe, understand, and write about Asia were both
professional and personal. The VOC needed all the information about
the host society which could be used in initiating and maintaining com-
mercial contact. At a personal level, this knowledge was passed down
from one generation of employees to another and, more publicly, it was
disseminated in Europe in published form. At yet another level, the VOC
itself underwrote and published—at a later stage with its own printer—
works it deemed useful, including cartography, translations, for example
of the Bible and of the Catechism, as well as foreign-language dictionar-
ies. These publications suggest that the VOC was not as secretive about
the knowledge it accumulated as it was believed to have been.39
The VOC offered the men in its service, mostly Dutch but also from
the neighbouring countries, such as the German states and Sweden,
direct, empirical experience of Asian cultures and societies. Although the
Company itself was not a society of intellectuals, its employees as a whole
produced a considerable number of ethnographic accounts of the wider
world. Some were motivated to write by the chance to advance their
career in the Company.40 A few were stimulated by the growing intellec-
tual hunger in Europe which encouraged the search for knowledge of the
outside world.41 Others were tempted to reap the fruits of the growing
commercial opportunities provided by the burgeoning publishing world
in Europe.42

The Observed: The Court of Ayutthaya, c. 1600-1767

‘Absolute power’ and ‘splendour’ are the themes usually highlighted in

European descriptions of the royal court of Ayutthaya from the sixteenth
century.43 ‘Avarice’ also appears frequently in the accounts of European
traders like the Dutch. Although these basic European perceptions of the
Siamese court were based on European norms and, sometimes, on the
particular situations in which the observers found themselves, they do in
10 INTRODUCTION

a way reflect the interests and problems of the court and its members. As
an introduction to what stood on the other side of these perceptions, the
following paragraphs will focus on the centrality of the king in Ayutthaya
society, the relations between power and pomp in court ritual, and the
relations between power and wealth accumulated through trade.
To comprehend the behaviour and attitudes of the Ayutthayan court in
the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, it is essential to understand
Thai kingship, since that was the fundamental reason for the court’s exis-
tence. As other principalities in South-East Asia, the Ayutthayan state and
kingship portrayed itself to itself as an ‘undivided and centered unit[y],
which denied dualities of any sort—challenge, instability, and the possi-
bility of de-centering’ and sought to ‘remain central: to remain unchal-
lenged, immobile, and eternally stable’.44 In this case, the necessity to
remain central—both in the normative and, therefore, in the power
field—equated the need to stand above the rest. The centrality of the king
fundamentally shaped the legal and administrative structures and the
social hierarchy of which he was the zenith. The system of sakdi na—pro-
claimed during the reign of King Trailok (r. 1448-88)—theoretically
defined the social status of a person in terms of the amount of land in his
possession. In his capacity as Chao Phaendin (Lord of the Land), the king
theoretically allotted land to his subject according to the latter’s social sta-
tus. His absolute power was founded upon his lawful claims to the life
and property of individuals and his privileged position permitting him to
take possession of and redistribute land, resources, and manpower to his
clients.45
As aims to be achieved rather than everyday reality, Ayutthaya’s
‘absolute’ kingship and ‘centralized’ administration had gone through
numerous changes, often in response to the immediate experience of chal-
lenges.46 Its rulers were much concerned with the questions of legitimacy
and control of resources. The unlimited power of the king was a dilemma
because, on the one hand, it led to the abuse of power, and, on the other
hand, attracted challenges from other power-seekers.47 Apart from rebel-
lions in the provinces and the wars waged with vassal states and neigh-
bouring polities which sporadically threatened the integrity of the king-
dom, the Ayutthayan court itself was rife with intrigues, coups, and suc-
cession disputes.
Though designed to serve its ruler, the royal court could not avoid serv-
ing the interests of its other members: ‘order and disruption is the result
of the same impulse: the desire to become higher and closer to the centre
for fulfilment of their ambitions.’48 The court members—royal and noble,
men and women, indigenous and foreign—were paradoxically the king’s
closest allies and his most dangerous enemies. Although the courtiers were
subjected to the king’s whims, they were also in a position to manipulate
 INTRODUCTION 11

information to and from him—and hence to influence his opinion and

actions to their own advantage.
The situation was all the more complex since the succession laws were
not clearly set out or sufficiently enforced. The idea of the sanctity of
kingship derived from a ‘mixed cultural background’ did not prevent
irregularities and abuses.49 In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries,
succession conflicts occurred at almost every change of reign. There were
rivalries among the principal chao (royalty/princes), as well as struggles
between them and the powerful khunnang (nobility/officials). King
Naresuan (r. 1590-1605) discontinued the tradition of giving the chao the
governorship of important provinces. From the reign of King Prasatthong
(r. 1629-56) and thereafter, the provincial governors, except those of
Tenasserim and Nakhon Sithammarat, referred to as Ligor in European
records, were obliged to spend more time under the king’s supervision in
Ayutthaya than in their provinces. Between the reigns of Narai and Thaisa
(r. 1709-33), large krom (households) of the royal princes were created to
keep the officials in check. But then again, King Borommakot (r. 1733-
58) created smaller krom for the chao to counterbalance each other and to
offset the krom (administrative divisions) of the khunnang. These changes
were effective in lessening the threat of a large-scale provincial revolt led
by a powerful governor, but conversely, through the concentration of the
principal princes and officials in Ayutthaya, they increased factional fight-
ing at court.50 Individual khunnang and the whole administration were
affected by the irregularities and uncertainties caused by the dependence
of officials on royal favour. The upshot was there was no real hereditary
nobility but only a ‘loose khunnang class’.51
Consequently, the ruler of Ayutthaya relied less on any institutional
backup such as the bureaucracy and the rules of succession, and more on
his ‘personal rule’.52 He maintained his position through his ability to
exercise control and patronage, and to create awe-inspiring splendour.
Both Thai royal chronicles and the foreign sources offer ample docu-
mentation of the recurrent recourse to violence in Ayutthaya politics. In
practice, the king ruled by harshness rather than by the exercise of the
kingly virtues. In his turn, a failure to respond to challenges had fatal con-
sequences for the king himself, his family, and followers. Although kin-
ship was used to forge alliances, it was no life-saving guarantee. The per-
manent political struggles between court factions and their destructive
effects (notably the purges)—in short, weak collective political leader-
ship—are regarded as one of the causes of the structural weakness which
contributed to the fall of the kingdom in 1767.53
If culture is defined simply as a set of shared meanings which reflect
beliefs and determine common ritual, practices, and the expression of
attitudes within a particular group, the ideas of kingship and the code of
12 INTRODUCTION

conduct regarding the king was the essence out of which Siamese court
culture arose. A shared dependence on the king’s favour—a common
interest/obsession—defined the membership of the court.54 Since power
or spiritual potency is invisible, the rulers had to make sure that ‘the signs
of potency—wealth, status, and influence—were under their control with
restricted access, and to be perceived’.55 Ayutthaya court culture was
designed to create a social hierarchy, which ‘demanded that, where a dif-
ference in social level existed between individuals, it was accompanied by
a corresponding spatial separation in height and sometimes distance’.56 To
make power perceivable, the extensive use of ritual and symbols of status
and honour was important, the more so because of the ill-defined nature
of the laws of succession57 and the abstract nature of the internal force of
karma.58 The models of the Khmer cult of devaraja (god-king), which is
highly ritualistic and expressive in character, had been integrated into
Ayutthaya court culture; they helped express outward dignity of the office
through ceremonies, titles, and regalia. These were made symbols capable
of commanding fear and respect.59 The Palatine Law of 1468/9 (kot mon-
thian ban) prescribed the conduct of the king and court members, for
example, the rule of the twelve-monthly cycle of ceremonies which gov-
erned the public activities of the king within a given year. Representation
of power was found in architecture and the organization of landscape,
too. Many foreigners witnessed the splendour—reification of power—of
the Ayutthayan king at the most important royal buildings: the royal
palaces (wang) and the temples (wat).
The display of wealth was an important part of Siamese court life. Acts
of public generosity—mostly grand-scale merit-making and the building
or renovating of religious monuments—were significantly considered one
of the king’s virtues; they brought the distant figure of the semi-divine
ruler closer to people and, yet, confirmed his material and spiritual supe-
riority. Admittedly, even the prominent officials were supposed to be
modest in their life-style, unless they were stationed outside the capital
where both their distance from the king and their role as his representa-
tive allowed them to act like a mini-king. However, the rulers also encour-
aged competitive displays of wealth among the khunnang particularly in
building temples, perhaps partly as a means to add splendour to their cap-
ital and partly to prevent the officials from spending their resources on
other, perhaps treacherous activities.60 Furthermore, the consumption of
luxurious foreign goods was used to distinguish the court elite from the
rest of society. The king gave, for example, imported Indian textiles to
reward someone for his service or as courtesy gifts to foreign visitors.61 Yet,
the nobles and some of the commoners grew increasingly eager to buy
foreign textiles and other imports, too.62
To create, maintain and enhance his power, either by strengthening his
 INTRODUCTION 13

military force, by controlling the political and social position of his offi-
cials (also by ‘buying’ their alliance), or by convincing the rest of society
of his material and spiritual superiority, the Ayutthayan King needed the
skills required to mobilize human and material resources. Since its leg-
endary foundation in 1351, the state of Ayutthaya had developed a
bureaucratic administration, codified its laws, and organized and taxed its
economy, all of which were responsible for its internal cohesion and exter-
nal recognition as one of the strongest territorial powers in South-East
Asia and an active participant in Asian trade.63 In response to the struc-
tural lack of manpower, the corvée system (rabop phrai) was designed to
implement the claim of the ruling class to use the freemen (phrai) in its
attempt to procure their services for political and economic purposes.64
Without denying the fundamental significance of agriculture to the
economy of Ayutthaya, it is in the interest of this study to emphasize the
importance of foreign, especially maritime trade for it explains the king-
dom’s need of contacts and partly its openness to the outside world as well
as its acceptance of the presence of the Europeans. Ayutthaya was a ‘port-
polity’: functioning both as a capital city (political centre) and as a port
town (commercial centre).65 Alongside the taxes collected in cash and
kind (suai) and tributes received, foreign trade was the most important
source of the king’s revenue. The relationship between economic develop-
ment and politics in Ayutthaya ran ‘in an almost circular fashion. The
more the king gained wealth through trade, the better able he was to over-
awe or overcome both domestic and neighbouring rivals and join their
territory to his, thereby further improving his ability to trade.’66 The case
of Ayutthaya demonstrates the cultural role of trade: ‘control of com-
merce as a source of wealth and a pre-requisite to power’.67 The king—the
greatest merchant of Siam—was keen to acquire strong control over trade
in his port, notably by means of royal monopolies and discriminatory
trade.68 It was precisely these acts which European observers, too willing-
ly and with self-interest afore-thought, ascribed to his ‘avarice’.
In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the scope of the maritime
trade of Siam ranged from Arabia to Japan.69 The kingdom possessed two
major ports: Ayutthaya (and Bangkok) on the Gulf of Siam, with its trade
network consisting of the Malay and Indonesian Archipelagos and the
South China Sea; and Tenasserim (and Mergui) with its commercial con-
nections in the Bay of Bengal. Export goods were its natural resources,
especially forest and marine products, and minerals; foodstuffs and agri-
cultural products, especially rice; and handicrafts.
A special bureaucratic unit directly answerable to the king was created
to deal with international trade: the Phrakhlang Sinkha (Ministry of
External Relations and Maritime Trading Affairs). It was designed prima-
rily to control economic activities—the buying and selling of import and
14 INTRODUCTION

export produce—from and to both local and foreign traders. Besides this
principal function, the minister, known as Phrakhlang, and his officials
were the designated intermediaries and interpreters for the foreign com-
munities in Ayutthaya. The ministry was divided into four parts: (1) the
Department of General Administration, Appeals, and Records; (2) the
Department of Royal Warehouses; (3) the Department of Eastern
Maritime Affairs and Crown Junks (Krom Tha Sai); and (4) the
Department of Western Maritime Affairs (Krom Tha Khwa). From the
1630s, the Dutch officially fell under the responsibility of the Krom Tha
Sai. The head of this department—a Chinese resident of Ayutthaya—was
responsible for trade in the South and East China Seas (shipping to and
from ports in Southern China, Nagasaki, the Ryukyu Islands, and
Vietnam) and had jurisdiction over all Chinese and Japanese in the Thai
kingdom. The VOC was placed under the responsibility of this depart-
ment because, from the Thai viewpoint, the Company, with its headquar-
ters in Batavia, was involved in a predominantly Chinese trade route.
Usually with a Muslim from South Asia as its head, the Krom Tha Khwa
was responsible for maritime relations with South Asia; the shipping to
Ayutthaya by Muslim traders from the Malay Peninsula; and, geographi-
cally overlapping with the Eastern Department, the South-East Asian
Archipelago.70 Given its need for commercial and other expertise, the
Ayutthayan court was inevitably open to foreigners.
Towards the end of the Ayutthaya period, a decrease in the royal trade
monopoly and an increase in private trade especially by officials—who
increasingly hired Chinese to sail their junks to China—can be observed.
Unlike King Prasatthong—who controlled his officials with a firm
hand—and King Narai—who more willingly granted commercial free-
dom to foreigners in his service rather than to local khunnang—, the eigh-
teenth-century rulers were forced by their need for support from their
officials to share trading profits with them.71

Source Material and Structure of the Study

Central to my investigation are the VOC-Dutch sources which document

the day-to-day developments at the Ayutthayan court as perceived by the
Dutch and their reactions to these developments. This work examines
mainly two types of sources: the official VOC reports and the travel liter-
ature composed by Company men. As much as possible, it emphasizes the
direct experience of the observers. The proximity of the writer of the
source to the objects or events under observation has been a prime selec-
tion criterion. Therefore, some travel accounts, for example those by
Abraham Bogaert (1711) and François Valentyn (1724-6), will not play a
 INTRODUCTION 15

central role in my analysis because the knowledge of the Siamese court

they present was secondary.72 Especially useful is the series of records clas-
sified as the Overgekomen Brieven en Papieren (OBP), letters and papers
sent from the Company’s trading office in Ayutthaya to Batavia from
1614 to 1765. Unfortunately, many of the dagregisters (diaries), which
contain the daily reports from Siam, are missing.73 According to the VOC
system, its records were usually written by the incumbent opperhoofd (the
VOC trade director or chief factor) of the place; therefore, it is rare to
have two voices at the same time. For this reason, I have to take his opin-
ion as representative of his time.
This monograph is organized according to both chronological criteria,
though not exactly by reign, and a thematic order. The structure tries to
accommodate what I consider characteristic of the Dutch perceptions of
the Ayutthayan court during that particular period, as well as what the
available sources offer. For example, the Company records do not have
much to tell about the short reign of King Süa (r. 1703-9), nor do they
offer any coherent knowledge of the court of the long-reigning King
Thaisa, despite the length of his reign. In the latter case, this may be
explained by the lack of perceptiveness among the VOC employees in
Siam during this period, or by the relative stability of the reign and the
state of the fairly uninterrupted Dutch-Siamese relations, which did not
require these men to reflect on either their position at or the power rela-
tions with the Siamese court.
Emphasizing the plurality of VOC-Dutch perceptions, this study
makes a distinction between the situation and negotiating power of the
Dutch Company in its relations with the Siamese Crown and those of the
VOC employees in Siam. Chapter One, overwhelmingly based on previ-
ous research, outlines the relatively equal positions of Company and
Court in commerce, politics, and diplomacy. Chapter Two examines the
position of the VOC men in Siam, with special attention paid to the
question of their legal status within the jurisdiction of the Siamese court.
Chapters Three and Four describe the enthusiastic, but uneasy learn-
ing process of the Company men during the reign of King Prasatthong—
when the Dutch-Thai relationship was closest—in their attempts: first, to
find a ‘common language’ to share with their Thai hosts, which they
found in the ‘language of ritual’; and secondly, to understand the politi-
cal culture and reality of Ayutthaya. The experience and experiments
which both sides underwent and made during this period essentially
shaped the ways the Dutch and the Siamese were to treat each other in
the future.
Chapter Five is a disquisition on the VOC-Siamese relationship during
King Narai’s reign which was markedly a retreat into a state of ‘business-
as-usual’. Changes in circumstances, not only at court but also in the
16 INTRODUCTION

Company policy, forced the Dutch in Siam to find a new strategy to cope
with the new developments around the King—especially, the French
presence and the political rise of the (in)famous Greek adventurer,
Constantine Phaulkon—and to maintain the King’s favour, precisely by
trying to benefit from his expanding personal interest in interacting with
the outside world. In Chapter Six, the Dutch, failing to take advantage of
the favoured position they had attained at the inception of King
Phetracha’s reign, could do no more than attempt to obtain a picture of
his inner world of ongoing power struggles, open and more subtle, which
completely absorbed his person.
Chapter Seven focuses on the growing sense of disillusionment
between the Dutch and the Siamese during the eighteenth century as the
possibility of gaining profit from trading with each other diminished. The
Dutch also felt the impact of the growing power-sharing at court. In the
midst of this disenchantment, each side again had a role to fulfil in the
other’s international, non-commercial schemes.
 CHAPTER ONE

THE COMPANY AND THE COURT

Introduction

On the surface, the Dutch East India Company and the royal court of
Ayutthaya obviously represented different concepts of government and
values. The court was ruled by a semi-divine, absolute kingship based on
hereditary succession. The Company was an overseas empire adminis-
tered by an appointed Council of the Indies chaired by the Governor-
General. Yet, their behaviour and attitudes were similarly shaped by the
pursuit of wealth and power. These congruous interests brought the
Company and the court into contact and made them comparable in some
ways. Both were profit-oriented trade organizations and political-territo-
rial rulers, with a hierarchical bureaucracy and diplomacy to define their
internal and external relations.
The descriptions of basic conditions in Siam—geography, economy,
politics and society—in the well-known accounts of VOC chief factors
Joost Schouten (written in 1636)1 and Jeremias van Vliet (1638)2, and the
earlier but less-known report of Cornelis van Nijenrode (1621)3, reveal
how much the Dutch had learnt about the kingdom during the first four
decades of their contact with the Siamese. Despite the absence of indige-
nous sources, we may assume that the court of Ayutthaya had also accu-
mulated knowledge about the Dutch. As early as 1608, Siamese envoys
visited the Dutch Republic. In 1637, King Prasatthong had concrete
questions put to Van Vliet about the sphere of influence and trading
capacity of the VOC in Asia, as well as the state of its relations with Asian
rulers. Van Vliet’s answers were partly sincere in admitting the shortcom-
ings in the Company’s commercial and political presence—which was
otherwise depicted as ubiquitous—in the areas dominated by the
Portuguese and the Spanish. But they were partly meant to impress the
Siamese King in saying that the Asian powers, except Mataram and its
allies in Java, endeavoured to live in peace with the Dutch.4
Clearly, it was primarily the dominant role of the court in the conduct
of Ayutthaya’s foreign trade, while not overlooking its international trade
network, which excited the interest of the VOC. Actually, the zones of
commercial operations of both the Dutch and the Siamese had much in
common, although the Siamese operated only in the South China Sea
and the Bay of Bengal. The Company policy towards Siam remained
18 CHAPTER ONE

throughout rooted in its commercial interest, and did not have a colonial-
ist bias.5 Any attempt to conquer Siam or to get deeply involved in local
affairs was not worth an investment because the VOC did not consider
the kingdom, strategically and commercially, as important as Java and
Ceylon, for example. In general, the strategy of ‘schenkagie’—the diplo-
matic approach—ruled its relationship with the King of Siam.6 Yet, in
commercial contacts with Siam the Company could not escape other
obligations—political, military, and socio-cultural—to its rulers, who
demanded these in return for commercial concessions granted to the
Dutch. The relations between the Dutch Company and the Siamese court
can be described as dynamic, based upon continuous attempts to keep a
balance of interests, while competing against each other.
Having said this, it should still be borne in mind that the equilibrium
of these enduring relations was constantly tested. Apart from its ‘act of
aggression’ in the form of a naval blockade, the VOC repeatedly closed
down its trading-posts in Siam: in Ayutthaya in 1622-4, 1629-33, 1663-
4, 1706, 1741-7, and, for the last time, in 1765; in Ligor in 1647, 1663-
4, 1711-14, 1741-54, and, for good, in 1756.7 The temporary closures of
the factories reflected the commercial losses of the VOC stemming from
both the problems in the Company’s intra-Asian trade and the severe dif-
ficulties in obtaining access to the marketable goods in Siam experienced
by the Dutch.8 The commercial conflicts between the Company and the
court can be characterized as a ‘clash between two monopolistic powers’.9
In their attempts to obtain exclusive rights to buy and export certain com-
modities, the Dutch were trying to impose their own rights against the
rule in Siam—that the King owned everything in his realm.10 The main
conflicts between the VOC and the Siamese court also arose from other
reasons. Disputes erupted on a fairly regular basis over the payment of the
King’s debts to the Company, and sometimes over the overlapping
spheres of interest or sovereignty in the Malay Archipelago.

Trade Partners

In the seventeenth century, the VOC policies towards Siam were con-
structed upon the significance of the kingdom in the overall scheme of
the Company’s intra-Asian trade, in particular its operations in East Asia.
The Dutch involvement in Siam was initiated by their interests in mak-
ing use of its commercial connection with China. However, the Dutch
soon discovered the real benefit of Siam: it provided highly desired com-
modities for the Japanese market. These products were used to barter for
Japanese bullion which the VOC needed for the purchase of Chinese silk
and Indian textiles. Understandably, it was exactly the changing character
 THE COMPANY AND THE COURT 19

of the Japan trade around the end of the seventeenth century which
forced the VOC to redefine its plans in Siam. For the rest of the eigh-
teenth century, the Dutch remained in Siam for a strategic reason rather
than for real profit.
In 1604, the VOC employees in Patani, where a factory had been
established three years earlier, learnt from the visiting Siamese envoys that
they could enter the China trade under the sponsorship of the
Ayutthayan court, by sailing with the tributary mission to the Ming
Emperor which King Naresuan was preparing. Since the embassy to
China did not take place because of the outbreak of the war between the
Siamese and the Burmese, complicated by the unexpected death of the
King, the Company servants who had been sent to Ayutthaya in the hope
of joining the embassy were summoned back to Patani in 1606.11 Despite
such a setback, the Dutch quickly realized that Ayutthaya itself was a
potential trade partner. In 1608, King Ekathotsarot (r. 1605-10/11)
allowed the VOC to establish its first trading-post in Ayutthaya. The
coming of the Dutch was welcomed by Ayutthaya, whose economy had
begun to revive after a long period of wars with Burma, which had defeat-
ed it in 1569.12 The establishment of factories in the ports along the exist-
ing Chinese shipping routes, which included Patani and Ayutthaya, was
part of a Dutch strategy to seek access to the markets of China and
Japan.13
During the 1620s, commercial setbacks forced not only the Dutch but
also the English Company to close their posts around the Gulf of Siam,
including those in Ayutthaya. However, in the early 1630s, the VOC
finally succeeded in establishing a durable commercial link to East Asia,
when it obtained permission to trade with Fujian Province in China from
Formosa (Taiwan), and the trade embargo in Japan (1628-32) was lifted.
Siam now assumed importance as an essential source of goods in demand
in Japan, notably deerskins, cow and buffalo hides, and sappanwood.
Furthermore, because of the recurrent tension with the Kingdom of
Mataram and unreliable harvests in Java, the kingdom was also an impor-
tant source of rice not only for Batavia but also for other VOC posts in
Asia, especially Formosa, Japan, Malacca, and later Ceylon.14 The VOC
predominantly supplied the Siamese court with exotic and luxury items,
especially Indian textiles. But it also played an important role in the
Siamese economy by importing money, as well as precious metal, silver,
and cowries, which were used as currency in the kingdom.15 All this con-
sidered, it can be said that Siam was more important as an export than an
import market for the Dutch.
The full return of the VOC to Ayutthaya in 1633 marked the begin-
ning of the period of the commercial expansion and stabilization of its
trade with Siam in which the Company tried to obtain exclusive export
20 CHAPTER ONE

rights to important goods—animal skins and tin—and experimented

with some other minor commodities.16 Besides the positive effect of their
military assistance to King Prasatthong in 1634, the position of the
Dutch in the eyes of the Siamese court had been further enhanced since
the promulgation of the kaikin (maritime prohibition) edicts by the
Shogunate in 1636, which restricted the movements of the Japanese over-
seas traders based in and outside Japan. King Prasatthong granted the
Dutch exclusive rights to buy and export Siamese animal skins in 1634
and 1646—the latter with the right to inspect the ships leaving Ayutthaya
for illegal skin exports (but this was revoked in 1653).17 From the 1640s,
tin, especially from Ligor, emerged as another important export article
from Siam. In 1671, King Narai extended the VOC the right to export
all the tin which remained in Ligor after he had received his annual trib-
ute and had bought his yearly quota. In the following year, Batavia decid-
ed to transfer the Ligor office from the administration of the Malacca
office to that of Ayutthaya because ‘it became obvious that the power of
the [Siamese] King could greatly aid the Company in its trade there’.18
According to Smith, the ‘relative success’ enjoyed by the VOC in Siam
in the seventeenth century in comparison with its Asian competitors was
based primarily on its monopoly arrangements with the royal court.19 But
these were not absolutely watertight as in most places in Asia where the
VOC introduced the same strategy, its exclusive rights to buy and export
animal skins and tin from Siam were often violated, sometimes with the
knowledge of the King, his khunnang, or the local officials in Ligor. The
Company was constantly competing with both foreign and local
traders—especially the court members. Above all, it battled with the
‘Moors’—a generic term used for the Muslims from South Asia and
Persia—and the Chinese, both of whom in one way or another had the
advantage of already being integrated into the Siamese bureaucracy, in
particular the Phrakhlang Ministry. Two prominent Muslim traders from
the Persian Gulf indeed helped re-organize the ministry in the 1610s.20
Around 1640, when the Japanese and Japanese-Thai merchants had to
cede their position as a result of the maritime prohibition imposed by the
Japanese Government, they were replaced by the Chinese, who saw a
great potential in exporting deer- and rayskins to Japan. In 1654, the
Dutch tried to protest about the export of hides by the Chinese, and their
attempt almost led to a fight between them and the Chinese, who had the
support of a Chinese courtier.21
The conflict between the VOC and the Ayutthayan court in the early
1660s epitomizes the pressure of competition the Dutch were facing in
Siam and the extreme measures they took to protect their interests. Since
his enthronement in 1656, King Narai and his officials had been increas-
ingly expanding their commercial activities to East Asia, bypassing the
 THE COMPANY AND THE COURT 21

VOC in the shipping of Thai goods to Nagasaki by using Chinese crews

to man their junks. Narai also used Muslims and Europeans to trade on
his behalf—an innovation in the nature of royal trade but not a structur-
al change.22 Eyeing the possibility of trade with Formosa, Narai welcomed
the envoys sent by the Ming-loyalist general Zheng Chenggong (called
Coxinga by the Dutch), who had conquered that island from the VOC in
1662. Just at that time, while Narai was occupied with the war in the
north of Siam fighting both Burma and Lansang, Persian and Chinese
elements at court took advantage of the absence of the King and promi-
nent officials from Ayutthaya to further their commercial interests and
tried to discriminate against the Dutch trading in the kingdom. The
Persian official Okya ‘Pieschijt’, or Abdu’r-Razzaq, and his Chinese
accomplices seized upon the unjustified capture of a Siamese crown junk
off Hainan by the VOC as an excuse to abrogate the Dutch trading priv-
ileges. They also ordered Zheng’s Chinese followers in Ayutthaya to sur-
round the Company lodge and threaten to torture the Dutch as the
Chinese had done to their compatriots in Formosa.23 Although driven
into a corner, the Dutch managed to find help from prominent officials
returning from the war and submit their grievance to King Narai, who
immediately tried to rectify the situation by reinstating Dutch privileges
and severely punishing Abdu’r-Razzaq.24
In spite of Narai’s accommodating attitude, Batavia decided that the
accumulated problems between the VOC and the Siamese Crown had to
be solved on its terms. This resulted in the withdrawal of the Company
personnel from Siam and the naval blockade at the mouth of the Chao
Phraya River by the VOC (selectively capturing junks sailing to Siam
from China and Japan) between September 1663 and February 1664.
The conflict was settled with the signing of the first Dutch-Siamese Treaty
of 1664 which favoured the VOC, defining its commercial privileges and
the extraterritorial rights of its subjects in Siam.25 Its contents confirmed
the Dutch intention to restrain Siamese trade expansion in East Asia. The
treaty not only gave the Dutch the freedom to trade with anyone any-
where in Siam, it also reaffirmed their exclusive rights to buy and export
deerskins and cow hides. Prudently, it forbade the use of Chinese crews
on Siamese ships bound for China and Japan. In return, the Dutch were
willing to pay compensation for the goods they had seized from the King’s
junks between 1661 and 1664. Certainly, King Narai felt the impact of
the terms of the treaty. He sent envoys to Batavia to renegotiate it, espe-
cially the clause prohibiting the use of Chinese sailors. A few years later,
Narai asked the VOC in Ayutthaya ‘with intended irony’ for advice: what
was the most effective way to enforce a blockade in front of the river of
Cambodia?26 Importantly, this episode should be seen as a limited conflict
with a limited goal, in which the VOC used force as a means to strength-
22 CHAPTER ONE

en its position in the trade between Siam and East Asia. Soon enough, the
Dutch realized that their efforts had yielded only meagre success. The
trading privileges offered by the treaty were never fully accorded by the
Siamese court. It was also impossible for the Dutch to check whether
Chinese crews were being used on Siamese Crown junks; another block-
ade would have cost more than the VOC could earn from Siam.27
The 1680s was another difficult period—not only for the Dutch but
also for other foreign traders in Siam—when Narai’s Greek favourite
Constantine Phaulkon tried to monopolize the foreign trade. As a result
of his machinations, the Moor traders were forced to leave the kingdom.
The English East India Company (EIC) had also departed, three years
before King Narai declared war on it in August 1687; this conflict was
actually caused by the misconduct of Englishmen whom the Greek min-
ister had hired for royal service.28 Phaulkon’s allies, the French, did not
benefit liberally from his trade policy either. Despite their complaints of
having suffered from Phaulkon’s policy, the Dutch managed to live
through this period by holding on to their hide export rights.29
In 1688, Phaulkon’s dominance at court was brought to an end by the
Palace Revolution led by a prominent official, Phra Phetracha, who sub-
sequently usurped the throne of Ayutthaya after King Narai’s death. In
need of support from the Dutch for his new dynasty, King Phetracha
renewed the Dutch-Siamese Treaty that very year. It did not usher in a
new era as the new reign did not bring any improvement in the situation
of the Dutch in Siam. Phetracha significantly concentrated his commer-
cial activity in China and Japan, especially during the years of difficulty
with the English in South Asia, thereby becoming a competitor of the
VOC.30 Violations of Dutch commercial privileges continued. The Dutch
and the Siamese now increasingly accused each other of pricing goods
arbitrarily and quarrelled over the court’s debts.
International developments also contributed to making the trade with
Siam less profitable for the VOC. During the 1680s and 1690s, Siamese
shipping was partly disturbed by the political unrest in the Malay
Peninsula and Sumatra, and by the circumstances in India which includ-
ed a state of war between Ayutthaya and the EIC, the fighting between
the French and the Dutch in Coromandel, and the withdrawal from trade
of the Mughal officials.31 An even more fundamental change in the VOC-
Siam trade was caused by the break with the existing pattern of the
Company’s triangular trade between Siam, Japan, and India, as a result of
the decision of the Shogunate to restrict the Dutch export of bullion out
of the country. The ban on silver exports in 1668 was followed by the
depreciation in the value of gold in 1695, and limitations on copper
exports in the 1710s. It was just at that time that it became increasingly
difficult for the Dutch to sell products in Japan because its Government
 THE COMPANY AND THE COURT 23

was trying to protect and promote its own craftsmanship. In 1715, the
number of VOC ships allowed to enter Japan was limited to only two per
year; consequently, after that year the Dutch stopped buying and export-
ing Siamese hides.32
Sappanwood and tin now became the most important Siamese goods
for the VOC, but they were no match for animal skins in terms of prof-
itability. A little later, the oversupply of tin and, especially, of sappanwood
in the 1720s and 1730s forced the Company to adjust its policy on Siam
again. The Dutch-Siamese Treaty of 1709 had set out that the Ayutthayan
court would pay its debts to the VOC in three equal parts of cash, tin,
and sappanwood. The Dutch now demanded that the court pay its debts
more in cash or other products than in sappanwood.33 The disappoint-
ment was reciprocal as the VOC itself did not live up to the court’s expec-
tations in many ways. Seeing no chance of making a profit, it avoided
delivering goods, especially Indian textiles and silver altogether, or did not
deliver them in an adequate quantity or at the price preferred by the
court. During the 1730s, the tensions between the VOC and the Siamese
court rose so high that the former considered closing down its trading
posts in Siam a few times, before actually doing so between 1741 and
1747.
During the eighteenth century, the VOC made several evaluations in
an endeavour to ascertain the state of its trade in Siam. Admittedly, these
assessments showed that trade with Siam was no longer cost-effective,
perhaps even detrimental to the Company. The most important export
goods of the kingdom, such as tin and sappanwood, could now be pro-
cured elsewhere and at lower prices. Soon, the proceeds could no longer
cover the expense of keeping up the office in Ayutthaya. Furthermore, the
Siamese court proved to be an unreliable supplier of rice. If the Dutch
decided to remain in Siam, they did so because they still hoped for future
gains and did not want to cede their place to other European rivals and
forfeit the commercial privileges they had won with difficulty in the
past.34 For instance, in 1731, Opperhoofd Rogier van Alderwereld (1722-
3, 1728-31) argued against the suggestion of Batavia to close the offices
in Siam and instead to send only one or two ships a year to Ayutthaya.
He pointed out that the English who had broken up their factory in the
1680s and had operated ever since as private traders from Bengal and
Madras, without tax exemptions and a fixed price agreement, constantly
incurred losses selling Indian textiles to the court.35
Even with its trade privileges, the VOC could barely compete with the
more flexible Asian merchants or the European free traders who could
operate with lower profit margins. From the last decade of the seven-
teenth century, the Company’s position in Siam was further aggravated by
the rise of the Chinese traders. After the Qing Government had finally
24 CHAPTER ONE

overcome all opposition, including that of the followers of Zheng

Chenggong in 1683, it lifted the hai-jin (maritime prohibition) in 1684,
thereby liberalizing the overseas junk trade of Guangdong and Fujian to
South-East Asia. Chinese private traders increasingly called at or settled in
Siam.36 Chinese men had been serving in the Siamese administration for
a long time, but it was for the first time in the 1720s that a Chinese
achieved the prominent position of Phrakhlang.37 The mounting activities
of the Chinese merchants in the first decades of the eighteenth century
‘reduced the Siamese consciousness of dependence on the Dutch trading
link, and made them [the Siamese] less compliant in observing the
[Dutch-Siamese] contracts’.38 The Siamese court apparently preferred
trading with the Chinese who paid a higher price than the Dutch and,
unlike the VOC, were not exempted from import and export duties.
Despite their apparently favoured position, when the Dutch were suffer-
ing from the discriminatory trade practices of the Ayutthayan court dur-
ing the 1730s, such as higher taxation of imports and exports and strict
state control, the Chinese merchants also had difficulty in trading in
Siam.39
After 1688, the Dutch no longer regarded the French as significant
rivals; indeed, the latter never succeeded in fully reinserting themselves in
the trade with Siam. The Thai kingdom did not offer any merchandise
the French really desired, and the Ayutthayan court refused to entertain
the idea of having a French factory in its land again.40 It was the growth
of English trade in the Indian Ocean to which the Dutch paid most atten-
tion.
The great demand for Indian textiles at the eighteenth-century Siamese
court continued and these were sought from different trading partners:
the VOC, the Indian Muslim traders, and the India-based English mer-
chants. John Anderson has asserted that the EIC never managed to return
to Siam because, between 1690 and 1759, the kingdom was rife with con-
flicts which ruined trade and exacerbated impoverishment.41 English pri-
vate traders did actually return to trade there, as already mentioned, and
some of them even tried to mediate between the English Governors in
India and the Siamese authorities. The Dutch reported that King Süa had
tried to contact the English in Madras as early as 1706, presumably short-
ly after the VOC’s temporary withdrawal. But the English were not to be
wooed because the King did not concede to their demands, which includ-
ed compensation for their losses suffered during King Narai’s reign.42
Finally, in 1762, the Governor of Madras sent a letter to ask for permis-
sion to establish a factory in Mergui, with a promise to deliver linen to
the court at the same price as the VOC did. Having little faith in the
enterprising spirit of the Siamese, the Dutch trusted that the court would
maintain its long-term connection with the VOC and would not be too
 THE COMPANY AND THE COURT 25

keen on entering into any new arrangement. Only should the VOC with-
draw from Siam and stop importing textiles would the Siamese be forced
to negotiate with the English. The Dutch were well aware of the advan-
tage the English would have over them if the latter were to operate from
Mergui. Crossing directly over to Mergui from Coromandel and Bengal,
unlike the VOC which had to go via Batavia to procure textiles in India,
the English would incur much less cost. Even if the Siamese court tried
to lower the price of textiles, the English would still make a profit. Mergui
had plenty of additional advantages: the proximity of tin mines and sap-
panwood forests, as well as better access to elephants and elephants’ teeth.
Lastly, the port town was far away from the draconian supervision of the
court and would allow the English to operate more freely than could the
Dutch who, in the capital city, had no option but to deal with many offi-
cials.43
Around 1750, for one last time the VOC tried to revive its Siam trade
in order to buy tin which was much needed for its burgeoning tea export
from Canton. In addition, coincidentally, the Siamese court made a con-
ciliatory gesture by concluding another treaty with the Dutch in 1754—
the first since 1709—, which gave them the exclusive right to export
Ligor tin in return for aiding the King’s horse-buyers in Java and the sup-
ply of textiles and luxury goods at a price set by the court.44 Once again,
the Dutch faced the same old problem: Siamese goods, tin in this case,
were too expensive. This eventually led to the closure of the establishment
in Ligor in 1756.45
After the ‘demise’ of the tin trade, the Company concentrated on sap-
panwood, elephants’ teeth, and ducats; it tried to negotiate with the court
for lower pricing of the first two and a more profitable exchange rate of
the money. This time, in the aftermath of the Burmese invasion of 1760,
the Siamese court was not so conciliatory and resolved to deny all the
Dutch requests, in order to compensate for the losses caused by the war.46
Even before the second Burmese invasion, which began in 1764 and
reached Ayutthaya in 1765, the decline in trade forced the VOC to decide
to leave Siam.47

Political Allies

By the beginning of the seventeenth century, Siam had long become one
of the most powerful polities in mainland South-East Asia, with a con-
siderable number of vassal states. Supported by its military prowess and
navigational technology, abetted by its skills in organization, the VOC
swiftly grew strong, politically and territorially, in the Malay Archipelago
and had to be counted as a power in the region. No wonder that these two
26 CHAPTER ONE

powers sought a political alliance in the face of intra-regional politics

including problems in lord-vassal relations. European rivalry also formed
part of the equation.
Apart from their significance as trade partners, Europeans were often
considered a power factor in the political strategy of the Siamese rulers,
who were well aware of Western naval and military capacities and were
not uninformed about the rivalry among the European nations. In the
first two decades of the seventeenth century, the Siamese court hoped to
use the Dutch to counterbalance Portuguese power. The growing influ-
ence of the Portuguese in the region between their strongholds in Syriam
and Malacca troubled Ayutthaya when it was trying to re-open its trade
route to the Bay of Bengal via Tenasserim, which it had won back from
Burma in 1593. The Siamese King not only repudiated Goa’s demand to
exclude the Dutch from trading in Siam but, hoping to place an ally in
what was the sphere of interest of both the Portuguese and the Burmese,
even offered Mergui and Tenasserim to the Dutch in 1610 and 1616. The
Dutch did not want to be involved in this and rejected both offers.48
Soon, the Ayutthayan court found another use for the Dutch. In his
missive to the Prince of Orange in 1622, King Songtham (r. 1610/1-28)
asked for assistance as he prepared an expedition against King Chettha II
of Cambodia, who had recently renounced his status of vassal of Siam.49
Since his belligerent intentions failed to eventuate, the Dutch were spared
having to make a difficult decision. The military capacity of Siam had
hardly impressed them from the beginning. Van Nijenrode—the earliest
VOC observer of Siamese military strength—saw no dearth of weaponry,
but a lack of martial valour among the soldiers.50 Fifteen years later,
Schouten, however, noted that the Siamese armies were poorly armed
with only ‘Bows and Arrows, Shields, Swords, Pikes and a few Guns’, and
were ignorant about how to use the goodly quantity of cannons they pos-
sessed. He considered the Siamese naval force no match for the Euro-
peans. Schouten’s views were echoed in Van Vliet’s account.51 Naturally,
the fact that the Siamese King did not seem to enjoy any success in the
wars against his rebellious vassals and even needed Dutch assistance to
suppress them revealed the limits of his power and confirmed the Dutch
impression. By mid-century, the VOC no longer perceived Ayutthaya as
a major military power. Still, the Thai kingdom was a dominant political
centre in the region: however often Cambodia and its vassals in the Malay
Peninsula might rebel, they eventually always returned to submission to
it. If the Dutch wanted to trade with these satellites, they still had to reck-
on with the favour of the King of Siam.52
King Songtham had tried to maintain good relations with both the
Iberians and the Dutch. But this changed in 1624, when Spaniards seized
the VOC ship Cleen Zeelandt in the Chao Phraya River. This act, which
 THE COMPANY AND THE COURT 27

violated the King’s sovereignty, compelled him to take sides with the
Dutch and force the Spaniards to release the Company vessel. This inci-
dent and the following failed act of revenge by the Spaniards in 1628 sig-
nificantly changed the scheme of foreign alliance of Siam; they led to the
fall of the Iberians and the rise to prominence of the Dutch in the eyes of
the King. Although the Portuguese were not responsible for the Spanish
acts of hostility in Ayutthaya, their position there was undermined
because of the political union between Portugal and Spain. The Siamese
now perceived both the Spanish and the Portuguese as a threat and con-
sequently chased away or imprisoned the subjects of both nations. With
the English absent and the French not yet arrived, the Dutch were now
the sole European ally of the Siamese King.53
The return of the VOC to Ayutthaya in 1633 also marked the begin-
ning of its involvement in Siamese politics, or more precisely in the lord-
vassal conflicts of Siam. The usurpation of King Prasatthong in 1629 gave
the vassal states in the Malay Peninsula, especially Patani which also allied
itself with Portuguese Malacca, a reason to repudiate his legitimacy. In
1634, Batavia finally decided to grant Prasatthong’s wishes and send some
armed ships to assist Siamese troops before Patani. It certainly hoped to
enhance the prospect of profit from Siamese goods in its re-surgent Japan
trade, but also to stop the war which was disrupting Company business
in the affected region, besides containing the Portuguese influence there.
Although the VOC’s assistance did not really contribute to the eventual
resubmission of Patani to Ayutthaya, King Prasatthong amply rewarded
the Dutch for their willingness to help with such concessions as an exclu-
sive right to export animal hides. He later offered to help the Company
take revenge on the Cambodian King for the massacre of its men there in
1644.54 After this period, the VOC only reluctantly assisted King
Prasatthong; for instance, in 1647 and 1649, it sent a ship and some
employees to help his forces to suppress rebellious Songkhla.55
Admittedly, caution has to be exercised in saying that the Kings of
Ayutthaya used European nations to counterbalance each other, which
would attribute too much importance to European influence. Yet, the evi-
dence tends to suggest that the Siamese rulers, from Ekathotsarot to
Narai, did so. By 1636, King Prasatthong had effectively consolidated his
power by making peace with his vassals and eliminating almost all of
Songtham’s heirs. As the King became less dependent on Dutch assis-
tance, he may also have become more concerned about the growing
power of the VOC, especially in the south, and about its increasing
demands for more concessions from him. Whatever the reason,
Prasatthong hastened to reconcile himself with the Portuguese and the
Spanish.56 However, trade between Ayutthaya and both Macao and
Manila did not flourish, and the Portuguese even lost Malacca to the
28 CHAPTER ONE

Dutch in 1641. Therefore, the Dutch were able to maintain their position
as the major foreign ally of the Siamese King for a few more decades.
By 1652-3, the VOC had developed a policy of disengagement from
Siamese politics, which significantly redefined its position in the kingdom
for the rest of its presence there. Initially, the disengagement meant that
the Company avoided giving Ayutthaya any help in disciplining its vas-
sals. The employees in Siam were strictly instructed not to become
involved with internal struggles, especially the recurrent conflicts of suc-
cession. They obviously took heed as they refused to aid Phra Narai in
1656 and Phra Phetracha in 1688 in their efforts to secure the throne,
and remained neutral throughout these crises.
Politically, naval capacity was the most important grounds for the
negotiation power between the VOC and the Ayutthayan court. Since it
was impossible to refuse to help at all, from the early 1650s, the Dutch
limited their assistance to aid only at a technical level and lent no more
warships.57 There were two major considerations which prompted this
decision. The Company considered the profits from the Siam trade no
longer worth extra investments, politically or militarily, especially when
its resources were overstretched as a result of military engagements else-
where in Asia.58 It also had firm intentions to contain the naval ambitions
of Siam. In 1650, on the advice of its Commissioner to Siam, Rijckloff
van Goens, ‘not to be too liberal in this regard in order not to damage
ourselves’, Batavia decided to refuse King Prasatthong access to Dutch
ship’s tackle and pilots.59 The Company ultimately used its naval superi-
ority to force some concessions from King Narai in 1663-4.
The impact of the European presence in Asia before the nineteenth
century may sometimes be overestimated, but it has to be admitted that
Europeans had indubitably enforced control over Asian waters which
changed the nature of indigenous freedom of navigation. VOC control of
sea routes in many parts of Asia made the Ayutthayan court dependent
on its co-operation. Siam often needed the Company’s means of transport
to connect it to the outside world, and if not the vessels themselves at least
its concession to allow passage to certain regions. The instructions drawn
up in 1685 by Aarnout Faa (1678-85) reveal how much control the
Dutch had (or believed themselves to have) over Siamese shipping outside
its own territory. The Opperhoofd instructed his successor to grant a pass
to the Siamese King to enter the following places: the north of Manila,
Cambodia, Cochin China, Tonkin, Canton, Japan, Pahang, Riau, Johor,
Malacca, Coromandel, Bengal, Surat, and Persia. The King’s ships to
West Java had to call at Batavia and were not allowed to take in textiles
and opium to sell there. Significantly, the Company barred him passage
from Coxinga’s Formosa, as well as from Indragiri, Jambi, and
Palembang, with which the Dutch were the sole trade partner by treaty.60
 THE COMPANY AND THE COURT 29

As is evident in this instruction, it was not surprising that, during the

last decade of King Narai’s reign, Ayutthaya and Batavia were embroiled
in several conflicts of interest in the Malay Archipelago. The VOC vehe-
mently protested to Narai when Jambi sent him pepper as a tributary gift
in 1682. While Jambi was one of the traditional vassal states of the
Siamese King, it also had given a pepper monopoly contract to the
Dutch. The Dutch complained again when Narai again overstepped the
mark and sent his ships to Aceh through Malaccan waters without
informing them, who held the right by conquest over Malacca. Narai in
turn grumbled about the harassment of the subjects of Johor—also con-
sidered his vassal—by the Company.61 These disputes and the Dutch con-
quest of Banten in 1682—which demonstrated the rising power of the
VOC in the region—may have convinced King Narai of the Dutch threat
to Siam and compelled him to seek a new ally in the French.62
After 1688, the VOC lost its original usefulness as a political ally—
both internal and external—in the eyes of the Siamese court, and its
potential antagonism had become visible even earlier. The negative expe-
rience with the French involvement in the internal affairs of Ayutthaya
during King Narai’s reign did not make the following generations of
Siamese rulers anti-European, but it did make them wary of what
European involvement might lead to. The Kings of the Ban Phlu Luang
Dynasty no longer appointed any European in an administrative capaci-
ty. Nor did they ask the VOC for any assistance in suppressing outbursts
of internal unrest.

Diplomatic Counterparts

Since the Siamese King presented himself as the semi-divine ruler of his
realm, to interact with him, even with a purely commercial motivation,
required a ritual of alliance which visualized relations in a way designed
to highlight the King’s elevated status. The Europeans used these main
diplomatic instruments to define formal relations between them and the
Asians: contracts and, to a greater extent, visiting embassies. In Siam, the
Portuguese from Malacca were the first to introduce the signing of a treaty
in 1518. Under its terms, the Portuguese were allowed to settle and trade
in the kingdom, enjoying commercial privileges and religious freedom; in
return they supplied the Siamese King with armaments and allowed the
Siamese to trade in Malacca. While Europeans perceived a contract as a
guarantee of their interests and a justification of defence of those interests,
how seriously the Thai observed the agreements in the treaty was obvious-
ly questionable. When the Siamese court agreed to conclude its first treaty
with the Dutch in 1664, it wanted to revive a good relationship with the
30 CHAPTER ONE

Dutch rather than to observe fully the agreements which put Siam at a
disadvantage. That the court continued concluding or renewing contracts
with the European nations and companies reflects that it, too, had accept-
ed the treaty as a convention by which to define its relationship with the
Europeans.
Between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries, the Europeans and
Asians, and in our case study the VOC and the Siamese court, normally
had two elements in diplomacy in common: the idea of the hierarchy of
states and the practice of sending and receiving embassies. There were
shades in emphasis. Especially in the Asian context, hierarchy played a
more important role in diplomatic practice than it did in Europe where
the reciprocation of embassies and permanent representatives gradually
became a norm. As Van Goor asserts, whereas the great states of Asia,
especially China, Persia, and Mughal India, considered themselves cen-
tral—each in its own world order—and regarded sending an embassy as
a sign of subordination, the South-East Asian polities were more willing
to send embassies for practical reasons.63 The court of Ayutthaya itself
maintained a hierarchical order of the polities with which it had contact,
and would treat a visiting embassy according to the status of the ruler who
sent it. While Ayutthaya had embraced the ideas of kingship originating
from India which emphasized the centrality of its ruler in society, it was
always part of the China-centric diplomatic tradition. Clearly, the
Siamese Kings were aware that ‘they inhabited a pluralistic world’.64 As
Burma, Vietnam, Ryukyu and Korea did, it sent tributary embassies to
the Emperor of China and, in so doing, benefited from the imperial gifts
which outweighed its own tribute, and from the permission to trade
there.65 Furthermore, Ayutthaya entertained ‘relatively equal’, that is non-
tributary, contacts with such states as Burma, Japan, Persia, Mataram,
some Indian polities, and European nations. Lastly, its king received trib-
ute from his vassal states, such as Cambodia and some sultanates in the
Malay Peninsula.66 This differentiation in relationships reflects how Siam
perceived its own place in its world order.67
An embassy usually consisted of three essential elements: the missive,
the envoy, and the tribute or gift. For the Thai, the missive was the most
important because it was regarded as the mouthpiece of the ruler who
sent it. Consequently, the capacity of the Ayutthayan envoy was limited
because he was merely the messenger of the king. Despite the general
emphasis on its envoy’s power to negotiate, Batavia fully recognized how
important the missives were to the Siamese. Gift-giving—originally seen
as complementing the relations—developed a new function: to serve to
balance the trade profit between the Company and the Crown.68
The Dutch Republic was the first country in Europe to receive a Thai
embassy. In 1608, King Ekathotsarot decided to send his envoys there to
 THE COMPANY AND THE COURT 31

test the Portuguese accusation that the Dutch had no country. This shows
how the Ayutthayan court created its world order: it fathomed the power
of a potential ally by empirical experience. The Dutch were immediately
compelled to understand the politics of the region. The VOC administra-
tors had initially refused to transport the Siamese embassy to Europe,
fearing the high costs. However, their representative in Ayutthaya, Corne-
lis Specx, argued that, to avoid offending the King of Siam, the Dutch
had to receive his ambassadors as well as they had the envoys of the
Sultans of Johor and Aceh, whom the Siamese King considered ‘inferior’
to him.69 Since the Dutch had transported an embassy from Aceh to the
Netherlands in 1604, they could not refuse to accord the Siamese King at
least the same honour. When they first appeared in the region, the Dutch
had the urge to ‘puncture Iberian pretensions to universal authority’ and
in order to do so resorted to taking South-East Asian representatives to
witness the achievements of their home country.70
Apart from presenting Ekathotsarot’s missive to the Dutch Stadholder,
Prince Maurice, the Siamese envoys had the opportunity to observe some
major Dutch cities and ports, including a few operational bases of the
VOC, like Amsterdam, Hoorn, and Enkhuizen. The Dutch also tried to
impress their guests with a demonstration in The Hague of a recent
invention, the telescope, through which the Siamese saw the towers of
Delft and Leiden. We may assume that the information, which these
envoys related to their ruler and other court members upon their return
home in 1610, played a vital role in forming the impressions of the
Siamese about the Dutch and the Netherlands, especially in terms of
material development. This knowledge must have helped dispel any
doubts about the Dutch potential to counterbalance Portuguese power in
South-East Asia.71 But, since this embassy marked the beginning of the
exchange of letters and gifts between the King of Siam and the Prince of
Orange, it also created (or reinforced) a perception which was to deter-
mine the treatment of Dutch diplomatic representatives by Siam.
At the beginning of their presence in Asia, Dutch traders, even before
the VOC period, often used the institution of the Stadholder, usually
associated with the Prince of Orange, who was ‘appointed’ to hold the
office for the Provinces of Holland, Zeeland, and Utrecht by their
Parliaments,72 to create a diplomatic standing for themselves suitable to
the local protocol and so help introduce themselves as representatives of
a prince equal in status to the indigenous rulers. In his diplomatic order,
the King of Siam recognized only the Stadholder, or, in Siamese under-
standing, the ‘King of Holland’, as his equal and perceived the Governor-
General as a ‘servant’ of the Prince. Maurice, Prince of Orange, who held
the Stadholder’s office between 1585 and 1625, was interested in what
Asia had to offer both to the Republic and to himself. He gave letters of
32 CHAPTER ONE

recommendation and gifts to the commanders of the first Dutch ships

sailing for the Malay Archipelago in 1595, to be used to initiate contacts
with the local rulers. During the first fifty years of the Company’s exis-
tence, the trade agreements and contracts of alliance with Asian rulers,
especially in the Malay Archipelago, were concluded by the representa-
tives of the VOC also in the name of the States General and the Prince of
Orange. As time passed, the Company gradually gained so much confi-
dence from its political and military power that its need for the
Stadholder as an intermediary between itself and the Asian rulers steadily
waned. The direct correspondence between the House of Orange and the
Asian rulers finally came to an end with the First Stadholder-less Period
between 1650 and 1672.73 In the case of Siam, it had ended even earlier,
as we shall see in Chapter Three.
From a comparison of the receptions of the Persian and French
embassies by King Narai during the 1680s—the zenith of Ayutthayan
diplomacy—with the treatment the Dutch received from his court, Van
Goor draws the conclusion that the status of the Dutch in the Siamese
diplomatic hierarchy was inferior to that of Persia and France.74 The slide
towards this ‘demoted’ position had begun in the second half of King
Prasatthong’s reign for two main reasons. First, as already indicated, the
VOC lost royal favour since it had become more insistent in pressing for
commercial privileges and, at the same time, less willing to assist the King
in solving his political troubles. Secondly, after the Company had
replaced the authority of the Prince of Orange with that of the Governor-
General in diplomatic procedures from the beginning of the 1640s, the
subsequent lack of a ‘royal mandate’ for diplomatic representatives
explains why the Dutch were treated with less honour than their Persian
and French counterparts who represented their kings—the equals of the
King of Siam. Admittedly, the Siamese held the commercial and military
power of the Dutch in awe; King Narai, for instance, sent an embassy to
Batavia to defuse the tension between his court and the Company in
1686—a proof of the pragmatism of Siamese diplomacy. Nevertheless,
the Governor-General was never formally recognized as the equal of the
Siamese King and the VOC was never considered a princely body. The
emphasis on the status of the authority which sent the embassy was not
exclusively a Siamese feature. In the first half of the seventeenth century,
the position of the Dutch Republic in European diplomatic hierarchy, as
seen in the ceremonial treatment its representatives received, in no way
matched its real commercial, financial, and military power because the
Stadholder was not a monarch in the normal sense.75
Despite diplomatic disadvantages, it was the Dutch who survived the
difficult period of Phaulkon’s dominance and the political turmoil follow-
ing King Narai’s death, and even became the most important foreign ally
 THE COMPANY AND THE COURT 33

of his immediate successor, Phetracha. As Van Goor points out, although

the diplomatic status of the Dutch had been lowered, their constant pres-
ence in Siam strengthened their ability to adjust to circumstances.76 In a
sense, the VOC trading post functioned as a permanent diplomatic rep-
resentation, which was one distinctive feature of the emerging modern
diplomacy. The Company men stationed in different parts of Asia not
only traded but also, in a similar fashion to the present-day diplomats,
gathered information about local developments for their own use as well
as to aid the decision making by their superiors.
In Dutch-Siamese diplomatic relations, although ‘equality’ was
ambiguous, ‘reciprocity’ reigned supreme. After the correspondence
between the Siamese King and the Prince of Orange had been stopped
around 1640, Ayutthaya and Batavia continued exchanging letters and
gifts between the King through his Phrakhlang and the Governor-
General. It must be emphasized that, despite some troublesome phases
which will be addressed in the following chapters, the exchange of letters
and gifts between Siam and the VOC took place more regularly—virtu-
ally on a yearly basis—than between Siam and any of its other diplomat-
ic counterparts.
It should be borne in mind that the cultivation of good relations
between the Government in Batavia and the Siamese court was based not
only on the outward and visible signs of diplomacy by adhering to proto-
col, but also took the more concrete shape of giving assistance and
service. Batavia maintained its standing in the eyes of the Ayutthayan
court as an indispensable supplier of foreign material culture, knowledge,
and service. The Dutch figured importantly in introducing such Western
technology as modern weapons, ship-building, and navigation.
Unintentionally, they served as cultural broker between Siam and the out-
side world. Every now and then, Ayutthaya tried to make use of Dutch
influence and resources. Its court sometimes asked Batavia to lend neces-
sary assistance to the King’s factors sent overseas and a few times it
requested naval protection for its vessels sailing the waters beyond its ter-
ritorial reach.77 On one occasion, in 1730, after the ‘vermilion-seal’—offi-
cial licences to enter Japan—had been stolen twice by the Chinese cap-
tains it had hired, the Siamese court had to ask the Dutch to confirm the
status of the Crown junks sent there to the Japanese authorities.78 On
another occasion, in 1737/8, Ayutthaya asked Batavia to restrain the
Governor of Malacca from selling food and ammunition to the Buginese
who had aided Kedah in attacking Tenasserim and abducting its people.79
Whenever necessary, the Siamese court did reciprocate. In 1715, for
instance, King Thaisa wrote to the ruler of Cochin China to secure the
release of the VOC men who had survived a shipwreck there.80
34 CHAPTER ONE

Conclusion

The relationship between the Dutch Company and the Siamese court can
be characterized by the juxtaposition of co-operation and competition.
Both parties were in a constant search of a modus vivendi. This reflects
how much their interests had in common. Admittedly, Dutch-Siamese
relations had been initiated by commercial motivation, and profit always
played a very important role in determining the level of persuasion and
negotiating power of both sides. But it would be misleading to take com-
mercial profit as the sole decisive factor.
The Siamese court needed Batavia—its naval and commercial capaci-
ty, political influence, and resources—for accessing the international trade
network and for benefiting from the developments of the outside world.
Considering that the military power of Siam, especially its naval force,
may not have been, or was not, equal to that of the VOC, it does not
appear to have been a tie between equals. Yet, Siam certainly had other
strengths to be brought to bear to persuade the Dutch to reach a deal. In
the seventeenth century, the Dutch Company had to rely on the co-oper-
ation of Ayutthaya in its attempt to expand its trade and so strengthen its
position in Asia. In the following century, despite the loss of profit there,
it still remained in Siam with the hope of stabilizing its position, which
was being seriously challenged all over the East. In short, the Company
and the Crown owed the power to negotiate with each other to their posi-
tion in the broader world.
 CHAPTER TWO

THE COMPANY MEN AND SETTLEMENT IN SIAM

Introduction

Although the VOC dealt with the court of Ayutthaya with the confidence
born of its commercial, military, and political strength, its employees in
Siam had a different negotiating power in relation to that court, for they
were not only bound to the guidelines and regulations of their superiors
in Asia and Europe,1 but also obliged to obey Siamese rules. As far as the
daily contacts were concerned, it was these men-on-the-spot who played
a crucial role in intermediating between the two powers of relatively equal
position and different cultures. While the policies made in Batavia or the
Dutch Republic—which, though relying much on information provided
by the VOC representatives in Siam, did not always take account of their
opinions—could have a positive or negative impact on the life of the
men-on-the-spot, their own behaviour, too, was responsible for the fate of
the Dutch community as well as the success or failure of Company busi-
ness in the Thai kingdom. Being at the forefront of these cross-cultural
interactions and caught in-between the two authorities, the VOC men
created their own particular experience and attained a position in relation
to the Siamese court in a way which was perforce different from that of
their superiors who administered from faraway Batavia.
Bearing in mind the existing yet limited freedom of movement of the
foreign population bound by Siamese regulations, the presence of the
Dutch in Siam must be explained in connection with the two main loca-
tions around which they preponderantly operated: the court—which
included the residences not only of the King but also of the other chao
and the khunnang—and the Company’s own lodge. First and foremost,
following the monopolistic trading system of the Siamese Government,
the VOC employees were required to maintain direct contacts with the
King and his court members. When engaged with the Siamese elite, the
Dutch merchants fittingly assumed the roles of diplomatic representatives
of the VOC and the Dutch Republic. For the sake of formality, the VOC
Opperhoofd commenced his term of office armed with a written accredi-
tation from the High Government in Batavia, and he would usually be
granted a welcome and a farewell audience by the King, or the
Phrakhlang. He would expect to be integrated into Siamese administra-
tive hierarchy: a court rank and title, together with insignia, which he was
36 CHAPTER TWO

obliged to carry with him when presenting himself at court, would be

conferred on him.2 Above all, most of the daily activities of the Dutch
centred on the Company lodge where they pursued their business trans-
actions and carried on their day-to-day life through interactions with the
officials, local people, and other foreign communities. For this reason, it
was not only the planned commercial interest and political design, but
also the daily practice and improvised adaptation which constituted the
Company servants’ experiences and perceptions of Siam.
The presence of the VOC employees in Siam posed questions to both
the Siamese authorities—as to how to deal with them—and the men
themselves—as to how to negotiate between the two different cultural
and legal traditions. In this chapter we shall focus on the life of the
Company men at their lodge, especially in treading the thorny path of
legal questions concerning the status of the VOC employees and the
Company settlement in Siamese law and social organization. The study of
their legal status—which, as in some case studies in this chapter, appeared
merely theoretical and not actual—was not only an indication of the
power relations between the VOC and the Siamese court, but also reflects
some of the Dutch perceptions of their host society.
The most important primary documents for the pre-modern legal his-
tory of Thailand, the Kotmai Tra Sam Duang (The Three Seals Laws) do
not offer substantial information on laws pertaining to foreigners in
Ayutthaya.3 Consequently, the following reconstruction of the Dutch
legal status in Siam is based overwhelmingly on Dutch records, especial-
ly on two documents. The first document, the Dutch-Siamese Treaty of
1664, not only clarified the commercial privileges of the VOC, but also
established a clear legal protection, the ‘extraterritorial rights’, for the
Dutch and European employees of the Company in Siam.4 The second
document, the Memorie van Overgave (Instructions for His Successor) of
1720 composed by Opperhoofd Wijbrand Blom, gives exceptional infor-
mation about how the Dutch managed and protected their settlement in
practice.5

Dutch Attitudes to Siamese Law

As a rule, the VOC employees tried to acquire a basic knowledge of local

law to help them, hopefully, make the right decisions. Without an
attempt to make a systematic comparison between the Siamese legal tra-
ditions and those of the VOC, a glimpse at the attitudes of the Dutch
towards Siamese law and law enforcement will certainly help improve our
understanding of their actions and responses.
First of all, while the Dutch were aware that Siam had well-established
 THE COMPANY MEN AND SETTLEMENT IN SIAM 37

laws and a judicial system,6 the arbitrary dispensation of justice by one

person, namely the King, was evidently incompatible with the ideas of the
citizens of the Dutch Republic in the seventeenth and eighteenth cen-
turies where jurisdiction was based on a written legal corpus. In their
experience, the King of Siam could punish even the most prominent offi-
cials, such as the Phrakhlang, in an inhuman way at any time. Further-
more, the Dutch were clearly disturbed by the lack of guarantee of the
rights of the individual, especially to private property. In many cases, the
Dutch saw the King confiscate everything in the possession of officials
(who were suspected of wrongdoing), or appropriate the property of his
deceased servants, which sometimes left their relatives with practically
nothing.7 Aware of this practice, the VOC men were very anxious about
lending Siamese officials anything because, if the debtor happened to die,
his property reverted to the Crown and the Company would have to
forgo payment of the debt, too. For example, in 1652, the Dutch decid-
ed to accept namrak (black liquid lacquer)—not really a commodity in
high demand—as the debt payment of the Chinese courtier Okkhun
Phisut, who was going to accompany King Prasatthong’s brother to
Phitsanulok, explicitly because they were afraid that he might die on the
way and they would lose the loan they had given him.8
Secondly, the Dutch were terrified (and sometimes almost morbidly
fascinated) by the sadistic methods of physical punishment and trials by
ordeal commonly practised in Siam. In his ‘Description of Siam’, Schou-
ten drew the attention of his superiors and other readers to the judicial
process of the country, especially the customs of punishment and ordeal:
‘Cashiering, banishments into Desart [deserted places], slavery, confisca-
tions, mutilation of hand or foot, burning in oyl, quartering, and other
severe executions … by ducking under water, holding their hands in
boyling oyl, to go bare-foot upon hot coales, or to eat a mess of charmed
rice.’9 Throughout their presence in Siam, the Dutch witnessed and doc-
umented the cruel treatments of those men, women, and children who
had fallen victim to Ayutthaya political intrigues. Despite their aversion,
this did not mean that the Europeans were unfamiliar with using legal
violence against their own and other peoples. In particular cases, the
Dutch also used torture to force a confession.
Lastly, the VOC records often indicate that the Dutch considered the
judicial system of Siam unreliable because they believed that the Siamese
were almost ubiquitously corrupt. Van Vliet expressively voiced his frus-
tration with the ‘injustice’ of the Siamese legal process in his account of
Siam, claiming that the rich and the powerful always won in practice,
while the poor always suffered. Nicholas Gervaise, the French priest who
lived in Ayutthaya between 1683 and 1686, would have agreed with the
Dutch, for he wrote: ‘[If ] the integrity of the ministers of justice matched
38 CHAPTER TWO

the wisdom of the laws that have been established in the kingdom of
Siam, there would be no more civilized state in all the Indies. But the
inordinate passion for amassing wealth, which is the dominant vice of the
country, renders these laws for ever ineffective.’10 Again, the complaints
about the ‘corrupt’ Siamese officials did not stop the Dutch from making
use of their veniality in order to extricate themselves from their own trou-
bles.
Despite many differences between the legal code of the Company
(known as the Statutes of Batavia, which was a projection of Dutch law
on its territories and subjects in Asia11) and that of Siam (observed from
the Kotmai Tra Sam Duang12), there were a few commonalities in their
legal principles. Both the Ayutthayan court and the VOC were law-prom-
ulgating bodies, imposing law on their subjects in the public as well as
private spheres. While Siamese law treated persons according to their dif-
ferent social status, that is different sakdi na, the Statutes of Batavia differ-
entiated between persons, or more precisely ethnicities. An Asian convict
was generally punished more severely than his European counterpart for
the same crime. Besides this, both the Siamese authorities and the High
Government in Batavia allowed the multi-ethnic societies in the territo-
ries under their jurisdiction to exercise legal plurality, that is, they gave
limited administrative and judicial autonomy to other ethnic groups.13

Extraterritoriality: The VOC Men and Siamese Jurisdiction

Not only were the general attitudes of the Dutch towards the legal and
judicial practices in Siam negative, it was their experiences of being under
threat from the Siamese authorities which compelled the Company ser-
vants to seek immunity from the local jurisdiction. Especially during the
first decade of King Prasatthong’s reign, the Siamese court used not only
the lure of splendour but also physical threats to force the Dutch to make
concessions. In 1634, when the VOC was reluctant to give Prasatthong
the assistance demanded for his troops in his attempts to suppress Patani,
its employees in Ayutthaya were forbidden to leave their lodge. Only after
Schouten, who had led the Company’s armed ships to Patani, had man-
aged to prove that his superiors had indeed rendered military assistance to
the Siamese troops, were the Dutch allowed to return to business.
Similarly in 1640, the King’s dissatisfaction with the Dutch, fuelled by
further accusations brought by their enemies at court, led to another siege
of the VOC lodge and a threat to have the Dutch trampled to death by
elephants. The Dutch were reportedly saved by the intercession of friends
at court.14
The decisive turning-point for the future legal status of the Dutch in
 THE COMPANY MEN AND SETTLEMENT IN SIAM 39

Siam was the incident in 1636, coined by Ten Brummelhuis and Kleinen
the ‘Dutch Picnic in Ayutthaya’, which almost ended in the death of a few
Dutchmen in the Thai kingdom.15 It was elaborately documented by Van
Vliet whose traumatizing experience with this and other above-men-
tioned incidents significantly formed his opinion of King Prasatthong as
an arbitrary and despotic Asian ruler.16 To sum up the story, in December
of that year, while enjoying some leisure in Ayutthaya, two VOC employ-
ees, under the influence of alcohol, attacked the servants of King
Prasatthong’s brother and consequently were arrested and brought to his
court. The other employees who came to secure the release of their com-
patriots were embroiled in a fight with the courtiers, were outnumbered
and had to surrender to the Siamese. Outraged, King Prasatthong was on
the verge of having these Dutchmen executed, besides restricting Dutch
trade and stationing armed guards at their lodge. The Opperhoofd recog-
nized the fact that the Siamese King was the ‘supreme judge’ who could
put all the Dutchmen in his kingdom to death and that they would be
powerless to stop him. Even though cognizant of this, Van Vliet criticized
the King for having ‘acted against the [Dutch] prisoners as if they had
already been sentenced to death’, without a proper investigation, to which
his men were entitled according to the written laws of Siam. He hastened
to drum up all the assistance he could at court, with one principal aim,
namely, to ‘soothe His Majesty’s severity’, which suggested that in his
opinion King Prasatthong was acting on a whim rather than out of prin-
ciple. At the same time, he was trying to save himself and his men in Siam
by appealing to the higher instances, reminding the Siamese court that
the execution of the Dutch would undermine the relations with the
Governor-General as well as with the ‘King of Holland’.17
In the end, whatever motives King Prasatthong may have had, perhaps
trying to subject the Dutch to his rules as part of the consolidation of his
power within Siam, as suggested by Ten Brummelhuis and Kleinen,18 or
taking vengeance against the belligerent attitudes displayed by Governor-
General Anthonio van Diemen towards him, as suggested by Van der
Kraan,19 he stayed the intended execution of the Dutchmen and lifted the
ban on the VOC trade. Instead, Prasatthong compelled Van Vliet, as the
Chief of the Dutch in Siam, to perform before him a ritual which the
Opperhoofd painfully recognized as an ‘admission of guilt’,20 as well as to
accept, in a written declaration, his responsibility for any mistakes com-
mitted by the VOC men in Siam in the future. This declaration also
required the Dutch to conform to the laws and customs of the kingdom.21
In short, it was an attempt to subject the Dutch to the local legal proce-
dures and punishments and to the power of the Siamese King—who
promulgated Siamese law.
Prasatthong’s act was certainly unacceptable to the Company which
40 CHAPTER TWO

alone, as a rule, administered justice to its own servants and Dutch free
burghers. After successive attempts by the Governors-General, the VOC
finally managed to use its advantageous situation during the conflict in
1663-4 to force the Siamese court to place its employees outside Siamese
jurisdiction. Incorporated into the Dutch-Siamese Treaty of 1664, the
following clause provided the VOC with what Robert Lingat defines as a
système des capitulations, and Smith and Ten Brummelhuis labelled extra-
territorial rights, namely the privilege of immunity from the local law
enforcement for Company employees.22
Should (God forbid!) any of the Company’s residents commit a grave
crime in Siam, neither the King nor the Siamese courts shall judge him,
but he shall be delivered to the chief of the Honourable Company, in
order to be punished according to Dutch law; and in case the said chief
himself commit a capital crime, His Majesty shall have the power to place
him under arrest until notice shall have been given of the same to the
Governor-General.23

Hence, the extraterritorial rights according to the 1664 Treaty in effect

abolished the force of the declaration of responsibility of 1636.
In the absence of indigenous sources, we cannot know precisely what
the Ayutthayan authorities thought about the extraterritorial rights of the
Europeans. Nevertheless, it cannot be said that the Siamese court consid-
ered this privilege insignificant. Although King Narai also agreed to
exempt the French, his close allies, from local jurisdiction as stated in the
Franco-Siamese Treaty of 1687, two years earlier he had refused to grant
the same privilege to the Portuguese who had sent an embassy to
Ayutthaya from Goa to request it but who apparently lacked the influence
to convince the King.24
A quick comparison between the Dutch-Siamese and the Franco-
Siamese treaties concluded during King Narai’s reign points to a signifi-
cant difference in the policies of the VOC and France towards Siam
which, on the one hand, reflects the ambitions of the French Crown to
promote both trade and religion, and, on the other hand, underlines the
non-religious character of the Dutch presence there.
The first Franco-Siamese accord of 1685, signed only by Phaulkon,
reveals the intention of the French to propagate the Roman Catholic faith
in Siam, for it envisaged the freedom for French missionaries to preach
and provided indigenous converts with some privileges. The local
Christians were to be exempt from the royal corvée on Sundays and holy
days, completely free from that service in old age, and they would have
their own system of justice.25 The subsequent Treaty of 1687 gave the
French East India Company (Compagnie des Indes Orientales–CIO),
established in 1664, the right to prosecute those of its employees who
committed crimes against other employees in Siam, in its own way. If the
 THE COMPANY MEN AND SETTLEMENT IN SIAM 41

matter should entail a CIO employee and a person outside the Company
service of whatever nationality, the employee should appear before a
Siamese court, which would then include one or more Company officials.
In the end, the fact that these French officials would actually give a ver-
dict made this ‘international court’26 merely a formality. In effect, France
asked for extraterritorial rights not only for its own subjects but also for
the Roman Catholic community under its protection—which included
converted subjects of the Siamese King. In contrast to the French, the
VOC excluded any possibility of its employees going through the Siamese
judicial procedure, even should they have inflicted injury on a Siamese.
Although it seems that the Dutch Company, according to the Treaty of
1664, humbly limited the scope of extraterritoriality to cover only its
employees and subjects like Dutch free burghers, and obviously had no
intention of propagating religion, it actually did in some cases offer pro-
tection from Siamese law enforcement to the local people who lived with-
in its settlement, as we shall see in the following paragraphs.
In the end, all the agreements between the French and the Siamese
court became null and void immediately upon the demise of King Narai
in 1688 and did not protect the French from the anger of his successor,
Phetracha, and his followers who resented the French attempts to impose
their political and religious agendas on Siam. Apparently, the Dutch had
learnt that the ruling King could reverse or modify the law promulgated
by his predecessors at any time. Therefore, they constantly tried to renew
the Dutch-Siamese Treaty at the beginning of every reign in order to
reconfirm their commercial and legal privileges.

Order and Protection: The VOC Settlement in Siam

As mentioned earlier, the Siamese King allowed many foreign communi-
ties in his realm to administer their own settlements and peoples, assured-
ly on condition that they observed the common order of society. The
report on the Company’s property of 1731, which included a list of the
legal papers kept in the lodge, tells us about some of the rules which gov-
erned the daily life of foreigners in Ayutthaya. Most of them of course
enumerated the commodities which the Dutch were permitted to buy or
alternatively were prohibited from purchasing. One particular document
is an order prohibiting all foreigners in Ayutthaya to make an appearance
without advance permission at and around the royal court or any places
where the King and the members of the royal family might happen to be
present. Another was an order to keep a night watch to prevent fire, theft
and other disorders in all districts of Siam. The last order concerned a
prohibition on firing cannon or any ammunition or fireworks without
the permission of the court.27
42 CHAPTER TWO

The status of the VOC chief factor in Siam was complicated not only
by his duty to lead the Company employees but also by his obligation to
govern the indigenous inhabitants of the settlement. In accordance with
the Siamese concept of social organization, the Dutch settlement was
categorized as a ban (village) with the Opperhoofd as a nai (head of the
community) who, like the heads of other foreign communities, answered
to the Phrakhlang Minister through the Syahbandar (harbour master) and
via the interpreters.
The VOC settlement in Ayutthaya was established under conditions
and in a way which reflected the importance of Siam to the Company, the
dependency of the Dutch upon the Siamese court, and, at the same time,
a certain degree of autonomy to handle its own affairs.
To put this in perspective, first of all, the comptoir or factorij in
Ayutthaya must be seen as part of the broad network of the VOC settle-
ments stretching from South Africa to East Asia. There were basically
three types of settlements: unfortified trading-posts in domains of power-
ful rulers; fortified bases; and smaller forts to control vast areas and island
groups. The features of the Ayutthaya factory placed it in the first catego-
ry, which also included such VOC establishments as Deshima in
Nagasaki, and those in Canton and in Surat—places where the Dutch
had submitted to local rulers and lived under their protection.28
As other foreign communities in Ayutthaya, the Dutch were dictated
to by the Siamese authorities who decided where they should live and
trade. When King Ekathotsarot permitted the VOC to establish a trading
office in his capital in 1608, this Company lodge was located in a Muslim
quarter within the city walls. Later, in 1634, King Prasatthong granted
the Dutch a plot of land to build a new lodge, which became the place
where VOC servants and their families were to live until the Company’s
final withdrawal from the kingdom. This new settlement was situated
south of Ayutthaya proper on the east bank of the Chao Phraya River. It
was closer to the river bank and larger—spacious enough to include ware-
houses—than the previous lodge, and therefore more convenient for
loading and unloading goods. Fortunately, situated on a high isle, it was
not easily flooded.29 The lodge was protected with a bamboo fence, sur-
rounded by a moat on the northern, eastern, and southern sides. A small
bridge on each side connected the lodge with its main storehouse in the
east and with the community surrounding it. The whole compound con-
sisted of the main building, smaller storehouses, a garden, a cemetery, and
a prison.30 It was spacious enough to accommodate up to forty permanent
employees as well as some sojourning sailors.31
In the beginning, the Siamese Government allowed the Dutch to build
the main edifice of the lodge as they preferred, merely stipulating that it
should not be too close to the river bank and not too high, thereby com-
 THE COMPANY MEN AND SETTLEMENT IN SIAM 43

plying with the custom of the country.32 This probably had to do with the
security of the royal water procession which would sail down the river
passing in front of the lodge. Indubitably, it was also linked to the idea
that a foreign settlement should not compete with the magnificence of
the palace and the temples in the city. Despite these restrictions, Gijsbert
Heecq, a VOC surgeon who visited Ayutthaya in 1655, and Gervaise
described the lodge as ‘a strong and excellent building, fairly large and tall’
and as ‘one of the most beautiful and most spacious houses in the king-
dom’, respectively.33 The said quality of the building reflected the deter-
mination of the Company in the 1630s that the Siam trade was worth an
investment, which signalled a long stay. This two-storey building in
European style was one of the first structures to be seen by visitors enter-
ing the city of Ayutthaya via the river and must have made them aware of
the Dutch presence there.
Though far less than other reasons, the VOC compound also gave the
Siamese court cause for dissatisfaction with the Dutch. In early 1636,
some opponents at court—apparently trying to arouse the King’s suspi-
cions of the Dutch—told King Prasatthong that the VOC lodge had been
extended to resemble a fort rather than a house, and that there were too
many Company men in Ayutthaya. The Dutch protested but complied
with the subsequent inquiry by submitting a plan of the building and a
list of the present employees, which satisfied the King.34 On another occa-
sion, in 1732, King Thaisa’s interest in the VOC settlement unfortunate-
ly transformed into irritation with it. In appreciation of the Company
surgeon’s part in the attempts to cure the wound in his palate—which
turned out to be a fatal cancer—, the monarch showed his interest in
finding out more about the Dutch settlement. (King Thaisa must have
seen it at least from the front because he often sailed down the river in
pursuit of his favourite recreation—fishing.) Therefore, the court sent
two servants to make drawings of the VOC lodge and its surroundings
and used them to inform the King. Having seen the drawings, Thaisa
became disturbed by the tombstones in the Dutch cemetery, probably
because they resembled Thai pagodas. The Phrakhlang consequently rec-
ommended the Dutch tear down these ‘pagodas’. Digging their toes in,
the Dutch resisted, claiming that it was beyond the authority of the cur-
rent Opperhoofd and council to remove the tombstones which the fami-
lies of the dead had erected with their own money.35
The VOC had some other properties which were established by per-
mission of the kings and were also indications of the range and nature of
Dutch activities in the kingdom. Besides the comptoir in Ayutthaya, the
Company possessed a warehouse called Amsterdam situated in the village
of Ban Chao Phraya (often called the ‘Sea Village’ in the VOC records) at
Pak Nam, the mouth of the Chao Phraya River, which is connected to the
44 CHAPTER TWO

present-day Gulf of Thailand; it was the place at which the East Indiamen
called. The transportation between the warehouse and the lodge in
Ayutthaya was carried out by vessels—small enough to sail the river—
owned by the Siam comptoir or some local people. When Commissioner
Rijckloff van Goens proposed its construction, he argued that the ware-
house would protect the stored goods from the elements and facilitate the
loading of the Company ships, and its supervisor would prevent the other
employees from smuggling their own goods on the ships.36 Besides this, in
1670, King Narai gave Opperhoofd Nicolaas de Roij (1669-72) a small
plot of land at Wat Prodsat—two miles south of the lodge itself—to make
a garden and a place for holidays/excursions. On this plot which was
marked as a ‘property’ of the VOC in Siam stood a small brick house. By
1697, Opperhoofd Thomas van Son (1692-97) had turned it into a place
for storing and sawing sappanwood to replace the workshop at Ban Chao
Phraya where the Dutch had formerly had such work done, because the
latter could no longer deliver sufficient quantities of wood. Although the
labourers were no less expensive than those who lived around the river
mouth, the Dutch hoped to be able to control the quality of work done
at Wat Prodsat more efficiently.37 For a period of time, the Company also
owned a house in Lopburi. The increasingly long stays of King Narai and
his courtiers, including the Phrakhlang, in that place from the mid-1670s
required the Dutch to conduct their business there more often. Around
1687, this house was abandoned when the Dutch considered it no longer
worth maintaining.38 Last but not least, the Company had a smaller office
in Ligor, operated by a few VOC residents, to procure tin. Over time, this
settlement developed into a mixed community of VOC personnel and
local people.
Admittedly, in dividing the foreign communities in Ayutthaya into ban
according to nationality, the Siamese authorities intended to keep them
apart from the (majority of the) indigenous society, thereby making them
easier to control.39 However, it would be wrong to see each foreign ban as
a unit completely isolated from either the other foreign communities or
the indigenous people.
By the seventeenth century, there was a considerable number of foreign
communities residing outside Ayutthaya proper, especially trading com-
munities established along the Chao Phraya River. These foreigners regu-
larly interacted with each other. As a rule, the retiring VOC Opperhoofden
recommended that their incumbent successors maintain daily contacts
with other nations trading in Ayutthaya. Across the river opposite the
Dutch lodge lived the Portuguese. As Heecq observed, the relationships
between the Dutch and the Portuguese living in Siam were rather amica-
ble, for pragmatic reasons.40 The Portuguese delivered local goods to the
Company besides offering a translation service because their language,
 THE COMPANY MEN AND SETTLEMENT IN SIAM 45

besides Malay, often served as lingua franca between the Dutch and the
Siamese court. To the south of the VOC settlement were the English and
Japanese ban as well as the Peguan (Mon) and Malay communities. The
Dutch often engaged the Japanese for packing the animal skins they
exported to Japan; they obtained these services through a contract with
one of the local Japanese nai.41 Nor were the contacts between these com-
munities purely commercial, they were social and cultural as well. In the
absence of Dutch clergymen from Ayutthaya, the mainly Protestant
Dutch often sought the service of the Portuguese Roman Catholic
priests.42 The Dutch cemetery also accommodated some Englishmen after
their death as fellows in faith.43 It was reported that, in 1730, with
‘people of other religions’, the VOC Opperhoofd and his assistant attend-
ed the burial of René Charbonneau—a former medical attendant in the
French missionary hospital and later the Governor of Phuket under King
Narai—in the French settlement, after which the Dutch went to pay a
visit to the French Bishop.44 In 1733, the Roman Catholic ‘Sinhora
Donna Louisa Faulcon’—Phaulkon’s daughter-in-law—appeared as a wit-
ness of the union between a VOC employee, Paulus Scheeper, and a
Eurasian woman, Maria Wens.45 Such events reflect the cosmopolitan and
almost ecumenical daily life of the foreign population in Ayutthaya which
was sometimes overshadowed by the hostile rhetoric spouted against each
other, especially among the Europeans, in their written accounts.
Smith has presented Ayutthaya as an example of a place where ‘the
Dutch community interacted with, but was not integrated into’ the local
society.46 The living conditions for the Dutch in sovereign Siam were dif-
ferent from such ‘transplanted’ colonial towns in Asia as Batavia and
Colombo. Most importantly, the VOC never considered Ayutthaya a
place where it wanted to settle a large number of Europeans; it was only
a trading station. As elsewhere in Asia, the absence of European-Dutch
women led to cohabitation and miscegenation between the VOC men
and local (Siamese, Mon, Lao, or mestizo) women. The VOC reports
from the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries reveal that the
Dutch settlement had evolved to include not only the Company lodge
but also an adjacent village, referred to with the Malay word as the kam-
pong, where the population was composed of descendants of the VOC
employees and the Dutch free burghers and, in a greater number, indige-
nous people who were attracted to live in the near vicinity because of the
prospect of paid jobs and the protection which the Company sometimes
afforded.
In the 1720 instruction for his successor, the outgoing Opperhoofd
Wijbrand Blom (1717-20) reminded Hendrik Verburg (1721-2) that the
administration of the Dutch settlement in Siam tended to be based on
oral tradition; hence his instruction was based on experience gathered
46 CHAPTER TWO

from his predecessors.47 The content of this instruction, precisely the part
which concerns the enforcement of law and order in the settlement, has
four main points. Firstly, the document reveals how the VOC understood
its jurisdiction over its settlement in Ayutthaya. Secondly, it gives an oper-
ational instruction to the trade director telling him how to maintain order
in the settlement. Thirdly, it suggests how to counter the local authority
in the event of legal transgressions within the settlement or involving the
residents of the settlement. Lastly, it instructs him how to behave in the
presence of the Siamese royalty.
Blom emphasized to Verburg that the VOC exercised full control over
its lodge. No one could come to settle down within the privileged terrain
which had belonged to the Company for almost a century without the
permission of the Opperhoofd.48 Although the Dutch jurisdiction over the
settlement was not included in the Dutch-Siamese Treaty, it was built
upon a common understanding between the VOC and the Siamese
authorities that both the terrain where the Company lodge was situated
and its vessels were imbued with a kind of immunity from local law
enforcement. This unwritten agreement appears to have been a precursor
of diplomatic immunity.
Next, Blom pointed out that the Company wanted to maintain good
relations with such ordinary working people as carpenters, coolies or
sailors (for inland routes), and the like, whom it regularly needed for all
kinds of work. These local inhabitants of the settlement hoped to benefit
from the privileges and protection which the Dutch offered them or even
created for them—special rights which, in Blom’s words, ‘could not be
found outside the kampong other than through an almost daily practice
of bribery’.49
When the attempts of kampong inhabitants to sell small commodities
at the nearby bazaar next to Wat Phananchoeng (north of the Dutch set-
tlement) had been repeatedly obstructed by the bazaar master, Blom
solved this problem by procuring a licence from the court which allowed
the Dutch to establish a market in their settlement in the grounds behind
the lodge. In return, the bazaar paid a tax of four taels or 28.16 florins per
year to the Siamese Government. The Opperhoofd appointed one resident
to collect the rent from the traders on a daily basis. Blom remarked that
the market not only yielded a rather satisfying income, it also offered a
pleasantly large variety of goods. The Dutch certainly discerned the
dynamics of the local economy and took advantage of the prospering
domestic markets—which evidently were under royal control.50
With regard to the people in the settlement, Blom pointed out that no
one had the power to arrest any inhabitant of the kampong other than by
the express instruction of the Phrakhlang or the court. To ensure that this
was observed, the arrest warrant must be addressed first to the Company
 THE COMPANY MEN AND SETTLEMENT IN SIAM 47

interpreters, who would then communicate it to the Opperhoofd. Should

someone insist on arresting a resident on his own authority and without
the express instructions of the court, the Company employees should
either courteously escort him out of the kampong, or tell him to resubmit
his demand via the Phrakhlang.51
The Dutch side also had obligations. Consequently, as a result of pre-
vailing Siamese law, in a case of manslaughter, creating an affray and the
like which caused injury or death, the perpetrator must immediately be
arrested to prevent his escape. The case must be reported to the
Phrakhlang. The Company should try to secure a fair process in the court.
Whenever a murder, manslaughter, serious physical assault, or theft
occurred, the local authority would draw a circle around the crime scene.
For this purpose, a pole was planted on the spot where the crime had been
committed, to which was tied a cord about thirty-six fathoms long.
Taking that pole as the centre, the cord was stretched out to create a
circle. Those who lived within the radius of this circle were to be arrested
and interrogated to find out whether they had been complicit in the
crime. If they were not involved, for failing to help prevent the crime,
they still had to pay a fine which was no less than five taels or thirty-six
florins and to bear the further costs of the arrest. Blom warned that the
employment of this local method could also affect the Dutch kampong,
should a crime be committed nearby.52
In the event of a fire within the settlement, the VOC should act
according to the local law by arresting the head of the house in which the
fire had broken out and immediately summon him to be tried in a crim-
inal process. Blom actually considered this Siamese rule a ‘sound concept’.
Nevertheless, he emphasized that the VOC must act quickly to prevent
the arrest of such an individual by the Siamese authorities and try him
within the kampong or by the Company’s own Council of Justice, even
without instructions from the Phrakhlang or the court. In this way, fric-
tion with the local government might be prevented.53
As a further precaution, the number of the bamboo-built houses in the
kampong must be limited because they could catch fire easily. Fires caused
by carelessness indeed occurred annually. To prevent a repetition of the
great fire of 1718, Blom himself had ordered some houses to be torn down
and some others to be moved further away from the lodge. Yet, he admit-
ted that it was rather difficult to exercise control over the way houses were
constructed in the settlement. For example, when someone asked for per-
mission to plant a garden on the northern side of the lodge, very soon a
house appeared there to be followed by all kinds of other buildings.54
Apparently the VOC tried to limit the number of residents in its
settlement. Blom described the Siamese as a ‘quarrelsome nation’ and,
therefore, he warned that the more of them lived in the lodge, the more
48 CHAPTER TWO

problems these people would cause, thereby bringing the Dutch chiefs
into strife with the local government. However much the VOC relied on
the co-operation of the people in its settlement, in order to avoid conflicts
with the Siamese Government, the lodge authorities had to remove any-
one who misbehaved from the kampong. Sometimes, as a warning, the
trouble-makers could be gaoled for a few days and flogged in imitation of
the Dutch custom of maintaining discipline on ships.55
According to the Dutch experience, some undesirable local types occa-
sionally tried to move into the kampong on the pretext of being friends of
the inhabitants in order to escape the administration of punishment by
the local government. In an attempt to prevent this kind of opportunism,
Blom had ordered an annual census of the inhabitants, which was to be
conducted in January of every year. The Dutch also intended to use this
registration as evidence to convince the local authorities of their good
intentions, when they had to confirm or deny the residence status of the
persons who might have been involved in legal problems.56 Actually, the
first survey had probably been made in January 1689, when, as a result of
the unrest caused by the sudden presence of an unusual number of crim-
inals in Ayutthaya, the VOC decided to compile a list with a description
of the inhabitants of its kampong. Although the Opperhoofd unfortunate-
ly decided not to include that list in his report, his excuse that it was not
worth reporting to Batavia because the inhabitants, especially the petty
traders and coolies, constantly changed, it also gives us a glimpse of the
sorts of people in the Dutch settlement.57 The only surviving statistics of
the local residents of the Dutch kampong date from 1732, listing 240
households or 1443 men, women, and children.58
Debt settlement was a logical exception to the attempted self-adminis-
tration of justice by the Dutch, in the sense that the VOC entrusted this
problem to the local law enforcement. It was so important a matter that
it was included in the 1664 Treaty.
In case, … a debtor of the Honourable Company refuse [sic] the payment of
his debt, His Majesty after being duly advised to that effect by Oya
Berckelang, … shall assist the Honourable Company to recover its claim by
arresting the defaulter and keeping him in custody until the claim shall have
been settled. If, however, the Honourable Company might fail to obtain in
this way the full payment of its claim, the King or Oya Bercclang [sic] shall
be bound to deliver the debtor to the said Company.59

Blom’s instruction shows that the same procedure was to be applied to the
local inhabitants of the Dutch settlement. If a resident had incurred a
debt and refused to pay it, he should be referred to the Phrakhlang. His
debt should be settled according to Siamese custom.60 Since the Dutch
very much needed the help of the local government in this matter, they
were willing to reciprocate as well.
 THE COMPANY MEN AND SETTLEMENT IN SIAM 49

The same rules—claiming Dutch jurisdiction over the terrain of the

settlement, prohibiting the arrest of kampong settlers without the knowl-
edge of the lodge authorities, and the registration and control of the set-
tlers—were applied to the settlement in Ligor.61 From Blom’s instruction,
we can see that: first, the VOC chose to deal with cases of fire itself; sec-
ondly, it was willing to call in the local authority to solve matters arising
from debt; and lastly, it was obliged to trust the case of a murder or phys-
ical assault to local justice. However, Blom reminded his successor that,
whenever a European employee was accused of being the offender, the
Opperhoofd as well as the local authority must rule on the case in accor-
dance with the extraterritorial clause in the Dutch-Siamese Treaty. By
virtue of the said agreement and Dutch law, neither in the case of debt,
physical assault, nor manslaughter could a European employee be arrest-
ed by the Siamese authorities, summoned to appear in a local court, inter-
rogated, sentenced, or executed by the Siamese Government.62
In general, the VOC tried to keep its employees’ affairs in its own
hands. There was one exception in 1713 when the Dutch sailor Jodocus
de Vries was murdered by some Chinese, among them the servant of a
Chinese official. Since the case involved two foreign parties, it required
arbitration by the Siamese authorities. After a long struggle by the Dutch,
the Siamese judges only sentenced the murderers to life imprisonment on
the grounds that they were not subjects of the Siamese King and therefore
could not be given a death sentence in Siam. In the absence of legal
evidence to prove the existence of this rule, we have to resort to the expla-
nation that strong Chinese elements at King Thaisa’s court may have
intervened to protect their convicted countrymen.63
To return to the last point of Blom’s instruction, another highly impor-
tant matter to which he drew his successor’s attention was the manner in
which to prepare the VOC lodge and employees for any appearance of
Siamese royalty. The mere presence of the Siamese King had legal impli-
cations in itself. The code of conduct was certainly known among the
employees stationed in Siam.64 However, Blom carefully instructed his
successor, who was a newcomer, what points of etiquette to observe
whenever the King and his suite passed by the lodge. The Dutch were
obliged to decorate the front fence of the lodge and Company vessels with
flags. The Company’s ceremonial barge also had to be manned with
rowers. The Company guards should be relocated from in front of the
gateway to behind the fence. The Opperhoofd and his assistant were to
present themselves under a tent waiting to greet the King in the Siamese
way as he and his suite were passing by. While the royal procession was
passing, no one was allowed to traverse the river side in front of the lodge
or to stare at the royals.65 An infringement of the rule could be punished
with death.
50 CHAPTER TWO

Conflicts

Apart from the commercial disagreements which occurred almost daily,

incidents involving the Company settlement and its residents sometimes
brought the Dutch into conflict with the Siamese authorities. In practice,
the written agreement and unwritten legal traditions were fairly regularly
contested by both sides.
Despite the rising power of the VOC in Asia, at any time the Siamese
King could in practice pressurize the Company men in his realm by the
very fact that, devoid of any substantial military capacity, their lives were
left to his mercy alone. Throughout its time there, laying siege to the
VOC lodge in Ayutthaya was one of the most usual ways the court
expressed its dissatisfaction with the Dutch and by which it tried to force
them to make concessions. Sometimes, the ‘immunity’ of the VOC per-
sonnel and lodge was contested; which in effect meant that the degree of
the ‘immunity’ tended to be dependent on the actual state of the relations
between the Company and the Siamese Crown. On one occasion, in early
1689, the Siamese Minister of Justice sent his men into the Dutch settle-
ment to arrest some kampong inhabitants and take them to prison with-
out informing the Opperhoofd. When the Dutch immediately protested to
the Phrakhlang, on principle to ‘preserve the privilege of the lodge’ rather
than in an attempt to defend the rights of those captives, the Minister had
to apologize for violating the Company’s immunity.66 This happened at a
time when the VOC enjoyed great favour from the newly crowned King
Phetracha. During the eighteenth century, the Siamese court increasingly
resorted to inspections of the VOC lodge and ships. The search for con-
traband goods occasionally gave the Siamese officials a reason to try to
inspect the Dutch settlement and vessels. In 1713, the officials raided the
kampong looking for opium; the incident resulted in a scuffle and the
death of the mestizo interpreter Pieter Brochebourde.67 In 1731, the
Siamese wanted to search a Company ship which allegedly had a contra-
band cargo of elephant tusks. The Dutch vehemently argued that this
would be an act against the ‘long tradition’ which gave them immunity.
Eventually, both parties found a compromise; the Dutch unloaded the
suspected tusks from the ship and took them to the lodge for inspection
by the officials.68 A few other cases during the reign of King Borommakot,
which point to the vulnerability of the Dutch in Siam despite the legal
assurance they thought they had achieved, will be examined in Chapter
Seven where they can be better understood in their own context.
The Dutch and the Siamese jurisdictions did or would theoretically
overlap each other on three counts: the local inhabitants of the Dutch
settlement; the VOC employees who also took the service of the king; and
the offspring of VOC fathers and indigenous mothers.
 THE COMPANY MEN AND SETTLEMENT IN SIAM 51

More minor conflicts may have appeared on a daily basis when the
Dutch tried to have control of and give protection to non-VOC employ-
ees. In some cases the Dutch did no more than to try to prevent kampong
residents from being investigated by Siamese law enforcement. Some-
times they even attempted to free the residents from the labour recruit-
ment by the court, as they did in 1731, though without success, when
men in the settlement were taken for the construction of a pagoda.69 The
recruitment of men by the Siamese authorities, whether for the prepara-
tion of a grand ceremony, war, or construction work as in this case,
deprived the VOC of labourers to pursue its own business.
If we compare the number of the local (presumably indigenous as well
as mestizo) residents of the Dutch settlement—the statistics of 1732
pointed to about 1,500 persons—to the number of the population of
Ayutthaya—Anthony Reid has suggested an estimation of 200,000 peo-
ple for the late seventeenth century—, the former seems to be insignifi-
cant as it does not reach even one per cent of the latter.70 Although the
Dutch clearly had no intention of expanding their power in this matter,
it is still a fact that, up to the early eighteenth century as our sources
reveal, at least some of these 1,500 people, who moved into the Dutch
settlement for benefit and protection, simultaneously moved away from
their original Siamese nai towards a foreign one. Therefore, the VOC in
Siam also functioned in a pattern of patron-client relationship modelled
on the Siamese model with a foreign body being the patron of the indige-
nous clients.
Although the Dutch director bore a court rank, the King did not claim
his assets after his demise, which confirmed that his position at court was
fairly decorative. One extraordinary case was that of the VOC doctor of
French Huguenot origin, Daniel Brochebourde, who was loaned in 1672,
with the approval of Batavia, to attend King Narai in his medical capaci-
ty. He became the favourite of Kings Narai and Phetracha, and his mes-
tizo descendants, including the above-mentioned Pieter, continued serv-
ing both the Crown and the Company in Siam as court physicians and
interpreters. Though, after having served both the VOC and the Siamese
court, when Daniel died in 1697, the money he left reverted to the
Crown for the reason that it was the result of the King’s generosity
towards him and that his heirs, who were born of an indigenous woman
and therefore subjects of the King, were considered to be subject to the
inheritance law of Siam and the royal jurisdiction which authorized the
King to become the heir of his deceased servants. In this case, the VOC
Opperhoofd allowed the process of Siamese law to take its course without
any protest.71
As time passed, jurisdiction over the mestizo children became a regular
source of conflict between the VOC and the Siamese court. In Siam
52 CHAPTER TWO

natives and children of natives—including those who were partly for-

eign—were automatically the subjects of the King. The laws of 1633 and
1663, promulgated by Prasatthong and Narai respectively, forbade Thai
and Mon women to cohabit with foreign men holding ‘erroneous beliefs’,
including Europeans, Javanese, and Malays. The Kings were concerned
that such unions and the resultant offspring would harm the Buddhist
religion and the State, as well as being worried that the manpower of Siam
would be diluted by confusion about the children’s identity.72 Obviously
it proved impossible to uphold this law in the cosmopolitan society of
Ayutthaya. The fact that each case concerning Dutch-indigenous children
was treated differently from another reflects how the Dutch-Siamese rela-
tions stood at that moment. The matter was complicated even more
because the Siamese authorities, recognizing the weak point of the Dutch
in their concern about the considerable number of their mestizo offspring
in Siam, sometimes used the seizure of these children as a means to pun-
ish the Dutch during the recurrent crises in their relations.
The VOC occasionally retrieved children from their Asian mothers
when their European fathers had died or had been repatriated.73 It seemed
that the Dutch would rather place these Eurasian offspring in the orphan-
age in Batavia than leave them in the care of their indigenous mothers to
be brought up in a ‘heathen’ way. In 1689, the Siam comptoir asked the
Governor-General to consider taking the half-Dutch children born of
local women to Batavia, or having an orphanage built in Ayutthaya.74
This is an indication that the mestizo children—whose number unfortu-
nately was not mentioned—had become a ‘problem’ to the VOC office in
Ayutthaya which required a solution from the High Government.
Whenever the VOC wanted to take local or mestizo wives and/or chil-
dren of its employees out of the country, it had to ask royal permission
for each particular case, mostly not without trouble but with reasonable
success. Despite their attempts to prohibit the cohabitation between
indigenous women and non-Buddhist foreigners, Kings Prasatthong and
Narai had allowed the Dutch to take some mestizo children out of the
kingdom without much objection.75 The VOC managed to force into the
terms of the 1664 Treaty that Dutch-indigenous children under seven
years of age were to be allowed to leave Siam. We do not know for certain
whether this was fully observed.
Exceptionally difficult was the extrication of Van Vliet’s children
because their mother, Osoet, who was an influential Mon merchant, had
successfully activated all her contacts at court to prevent them from being
sent to Batavia, until her death in 1658.76 Another problematic case
occurred when, around 1690-1, Daniel Brochebourde’s son, Moses,
wanted to leave the Company service. Opperhoofd Pieter van den Hoorn
(1688-91) consequently threatened to send him to Batavia. The
 THE COMPANY MEN AND SETTLEMENT IN SIAM 53

Phrakhlang took young Brochebourde under his protection, claiming that

Moses was the King’s subject, because he had been born to a local woman,
and had entered royal service.77 In the end, the Dutch considered it not
worth a dispute with the court and gave Moses Brochebourde up. In
1706, when the VOC was temporarily withdrawing from Siam after a dis-
pute with the Crown, the bookkeeper Gerrit de Haas asked for the court’s
permission to take along his wife, who was a Dutch-Mon mestizo, and
their children. King Süa refused on the grounds that they were his sub-
jects, but he was probably also acting out a grudge he bore against the
Company. Finally, in 1710, upon the plea of the Governor-General, the
new King, Thaisa, granted permission.78 In short, this was a political mat-
ter in itself, since each party involved exercised its power or resorted to its
connections with the powerful to defend its interests.

Conclusion

Ten Brummelhuis has asserted that ‘[the] etiquette of the Siamese court
also made the position of [VOC trade] director even more important
than it already was in the company hierarchy’.79 Yet, it was not only his
status in the hierarchy of the Siamese court but his actual responsibility
as the nai of the Dutch ban which made him very important in Siamese
society. Life at the lodge reveals another obligation of the Dutch towards
the Siamese King: besides their roles as diplomats and courtiers, they were
‘administrative officials’, a body governing a part of the population in
Ayutthaya. In this sense, the Dutch were more integrated into the
Siamese system than Smith has suggested: that the Dutch-Siamese inter-
actions could be seen only at the higher level of Thai society, at court.80
Although the Company’s naval blockade of 1663-4 and several threats
to the Dutch from the Siamese authorities must have aroused a sense of
caution on both sides, the limits of the relations between the VOC and
the Siamese court were never tested. These measures served instead as sig-
nals that the one was seeking for a concession from the other. Although
the Dutch were privileged with the ‘extraterritorial rights’, in practice they
felt vulnerable and carefully avoided any conflict with the Siamese
authorities. That privilege did not have any real effect on legal procedure
in Ayutthaya in the way that its successor, the ‘Treaty of Friendship,
Commerce and Navigation between the Netherlands and Siam’ of 1860,
had in the nineteenth century.81
Smith’s above-mentioned comment does not reflect the whole reality of
the Dutch presence during the Ayutthaya Period, but this is understand-
able as it is based on the VOC records of the seventeenth century.
Contrary to the earlier period, the VOC men in the eighteenth century
54 CHAPTER TWO

increasingly reported about affairs concerning the Company settlement

and its inhabitants and less and less about their participation at court.
Unquestionable, this implies an increasing commitment of the Dutch
towards their immediate environment in Siam. Yet, perhaps the Dutch
resorted to reporting more on their lodge and its affairs, because they had
become politically and economically less significant in the kingdom.
Furthermore, the mounting number of incidents, which the Dutch con-
sidered ‘harassments’ by the Siamese officials, indicates that the Dutch
now did not enjoy as highly privileged a position as they had under the
seventeenth-century Siamese Kings.
 CHAPTER THREE

LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL:

THE DUTCH AT THE COURT OF KING PRASATTHONG

Introduction
The Emperor or King of Siam holds residence and court here [in Ayutthaya]
in a magnificent and very fine palace, separately walled, well-placed within
the city walls, no costs spared in its construction, for our countrymen a mar-
vel to behold. He is a powerful and wealthy monarch indeed, [and the city
surpasses] any place in the Indies (except for China) in terms of populace,
elephants, gold, gemstones, shipping, commerce, trade and fertility.1

Such was the impression of Opperhoofd Van Nijenrode of the splendour

of the royal court and the ruler of Siam. He was the first of a series of
VOC employees who, in their writings, gave a coherent picture of their
daily-life encounters with early modern Thai society. In his account of
1621, he tried to convince his superiors in Batavia not to close down the
office in Ayutthaya when the Company was passing through a difficult
phase in its trade with East Asia. Although his attempt failed, his argu-
ments are still interesting. He not only enumerated the strategic advan-
tages of Siam to maritime trade, stressing its excellent location and the
fertility of its soil, but also strove to substantiate his plea by linking the
visible affluence of the Siamese King and his ‘trade-oriented’ subjects with
the prospect of profit for the Company. Open-mindedly, Van Nijenrode
asserted that the King of Siam made his daily appearance with ‘a magnif-
icence surpassing any Christian king’. He emphasized that King
Songtham, under whose rule the kingdom was peaceful and prosperous,
was friendly to foreigners but particularly favoured the Dutch. Besides
granting commercial privileges, the ruler also showed the Dutch his good-
will in ‘daily contact and conversation’ and allowed them ‘free access to
the Court whenever we [the Dutch] wished to, which no other foreign
nation, whether the English, Portuguese or Moors, has ever been
granted’.2
Admittedly, by the time King Prasatthong usurped the throne in 1629,
the period of acclimatisation of the Dutch in Siam seemed to have long
been over. Even so, this moment of time will be taken as the starting point
of an extensive study of the interactions between the Company men and
the Siamese court for the following reasons. First of all, from the begin-
ning of this reign, the Company reports from Siam became better organ-
56 CHAPTER THREE

ized and, more importantly, have been preserved in considerable numbers

for present-day researchers. Only two detailed descriptions—Van
Nijenrode’s above-mentioned account and Schouten’s report on the
reception of the Dutch embassy at King Songtham’s court in 1628—are
available for the preceding period.
Secondly, Opperhoofd Schouten and his successor Van Vliet, who both
served in Siam during the early years of King Prasatthong’s reign, have left
us extraordinary in-depth accounts of elite and ordinary life there.
Schouten’s Company correspondence shows that he combined the talents
of a capable merchant and a tactful diplomat. His ‘Description of Siam’
written in 1636, was the first European account of Siam and was
published two years later.3 It was the fruits of his long experience in the
kingdom first as an assistant (1622-9) and subsequently as trade director
(1633-6). Throughout his service in Siam from 1633 to 1641, the hot-
headed Van Vliet showed himself no less keen an observer. In addition to
his portrayal of contemporary society, he also compiled histories of the
Siamese Kings.4 Sharing the same intellectual interest, Van Vliet admitted
that he was also influenced by Schouten’s writing.5 Yet, the two men were
different in temperament and in part of their views of the Kings and the
court of Siam.
Thirdly, Dutch sources on Prasatthong’s reign bear witness to the
ongoing learning process of the Company servants about the nature of
the Siamese court. When the growth of the Japan trade prompted the
VOC to re-open its trading office in Ayutthaya in 1633, the Company
was still in the process of gathering knowledge about its Asian partners
and competitors. Its employees, mostly freshly arrived from Europe,
regarded their host environment with as much caution as fascination. In
the case of Siam, since his personality and policy were different from his
predecessor’s, the reign of King Prasatthong was decisively another knowl-
edge-seeking epoch for the Company men. They were still learning to
maintain and improve their communication with the court, linguistically
as well as behaviourally. Diplomatic protocol and court ceremonial—the
language of ritual which connected the Dutch and the Siamese—were the
crucial parts which, allied with trade negotiations, constituted the context
in which the VOC and the Siamese court carried on their business.

Dutch-Siamese Diplomatic Exchange

From the outset, the Dutch had been made aware that active diplomacy
was one of the main policies of Siam. As they were in many places in Asia,
trade and ritual often were inextricably mixed at the Siamese court.
Schouten asserted it was essential for any foreign envoy to attend an audi-
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 57

ence with the Siamese King before he was allowed to start negotiating his
business with the local trade officials.6 Emphasizing the benefits of diplo-
macy, Van Nijenrode believed that the many privileges which the VOC
enjoyed were grounded in the respect the Siamese King had for his ‘broth-
er and sworn friend’, the Prince of Orange.7 The Dutch also learnt the
essential rule: observe the hierarchical order which structured foreign rela-
tions of the kingdom, of which they themselves were a part, and in which
they tried to maintain and improve their position. The following para-
graphs will deal with the receptions of four Dutch embassies at the
Siamese court during the period of 1628-41, which was the last phase in
the formal contacts between the King of Siam and the Prince of
Orange—the zenith of the Dutch-Siamese diplomatic exchange.

Two Hours of Honour: The Dutch Embassy, 1628

While still an assistant, Schouten composed a detailed report of the recep-
tion of the Dutch embassy in Ayutthaya in September 1628, which
showed his delicate skills of observation. Although this took place in (the
last year of ) King Songtham’s reign, as the ‘first’ elaborate European
account of Siamese diplomatic protocol, it deserves to be treated here in
detail. From the beginning, Schouten emphasized that the arrival of this
embassy greatly delighted the King because he ordered the missive from
the Prince of Orange to be collected from the Company vessel and trans-
lated into Thai within a few days, which was contrary to the usual cus-
tom that would have had the embassy waiting outside the city for ten to
fourteen days after its arrival.8 The expeditiousness can be explained
because this missive was the answer the Siamese ruler had long been wait-
ing for, since, in late 1621, he himself had sent letters, in which he
requested a VOC naval force to attack Cambodia, and valuable gifts to
both Prince Maurice and Governor-General Jan Pieterszoon Coen (1619-
23, 1627-9).9 The letter to the Stadholder was taken to the Dutch
Republic by Coen’s return fleet. Only when Coen was planning to return
to Asia did he urge the new Prince of Orange, Frederick Henry, who suc-
ceeded his brother in 1625, to reciprocate.
Upon the news of the embassy’s arrival, the Phrakhlang Minister
ordered the Governor of Bangkok10 to dispatch a few barges to collect the
missive of the Prince of Orange from the Dutch vessels at Ban Chao
Phraya. The princely letter was taken aboard one of the Siamese ceremo-
nial barges and placed in a round, red cabinet with silk curtains.
Proceeding upstream, this barge took precedence and was followed in
good order by boats carrying the Governor, the Dutch, and other Siamese
officials. The Dutch travelled in a long, black-lacquered prahu with
thirty rowers, sitting under a red tent and flying the prince’s flag. The pro-
58 CHAPTER THREE

cession was accompanied by the music of flutes and drums. In Bangkok,

they were awaited by a beautiful long prahu with fifty oars; the letter was
now placed under its gilded pavilion. Twelve prominent personages of
Bangkok were present, each in his own boat. Altogether sixteen barges
and around 400 men now progressed towards the capital, while other
boats made way for this official company, drawing aside to wait by the
river bank. When they reached the toll house at Bangtanao, a mile from
Ayutthaya, the grandees of Bangkok took their leave and returned down-
stream.
On the following day, one of the King’s barges manned by seventy to
eighty rowers came to take over transport of the princely missive. It bore
a painted cabinet with pyramidal roof hung with silk curtains and bear-
ing two silk parasols. It was accompanied by a number of courtiers on no
less than thirty barges. At this point, the letter was transferred from its
container into a gold bowl which stood on a big wooden dais within the
pavilion on the said royal barge. Finally, the letter arrived at a ‘beautiful
gilded temple facing the city’ where it was translated in the presence of
many khunnang. In this letter, Prince Frederick Henry officially
announced his succession to his brother’s honours and expressed his grat-
itude for the favour King Songtham had shown towards the Dutch dur-
ing the 1624 incident. But he avoided committing himself to Songtham’s
request for help to suppress Cambodia, claiming that his knowledge of
the affair was not up-to-date. Both the original missive and its translation
were immediately sent to the royal palace. Schouten reassured his superi-
ors that the princely missive was accorded more splendour than any from
other rulers.11 It should be noted that the letter from the Governor-
General to the Phrakhlang was collected and translated separately on
another occasion.
The next step would usually be an audience to welcome the visiting
ambassador. On this occasion this was dispensed with because the dele-
gate, Willem Cunningham, had died during the journey to Ayutthaya.
Instead, Opperhoofd Adriaan de Marees and Schouten were invited to
attend the customary royal banquet given by the monarch for his officials.
It was at this event that the Dutch were asked to present the gifts from
the Netherlands formally to King Songtham because, as Schouten obser-
vantly remarked, ‘His Majesty wanted the missive and gifts from His
Royal Grace [Prince of Orange] to be delivered on such an important day
and in the presence of his most prominent vassals’.12 The Dutch were well
aware of the functions of foreign elements at the Ayutthayan court: not
only were the use of foreign, especially luxurious, goods and inventions
indispensable but also the presence of foreign embassies was an integral
part of the power display of the ruler. The gifts from the Stadholder
(worth more than 4,000 guilders) consisted of a gilded suit of armour
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 59

including halberd and shield, two pistols, pieces of Dutch gold laken, and
a big mirror framed in silver.
On 25 September, the princely gifts and the VOC representatives were
picked up by court barges. They first waited in a temple opposite the royal
palace until around two o’clock in the afternoon to be summoned.
Leaving their four assistants in the forecourt, De Marees and Schouten
proceeded into the inner court barefoot despite the ground which was still
wet after the rain. Behind the third gate, beautiful elephants were stand-
ing and more than a thousand servants of the khunnang, who attended
the ceremony, were waiting for their masters. Schouten noticed that the
gate to the most inner court remained closed and was heavily guarded.
The Dutchmen waited until their names were called. Once they had
passed through, the gate was immediately closed. Now, they found them-
selves in a big square with 5,000-6,000 armed men drawn up in good
order. Here, the Dutch fell on their knees to pay the customary hom-
age—thrice lifting up their folded hands and bowing to the ground—in
the direction of the quarters of the King. They were allowed to rise and
walk, with their hands still folded, to the middle of the square, where they
were once more obliged to perform the same gesture of reverence. At the
end of this square, they crossed a small wooden bridge, at the beginning
of which, on each side, there was a small stable of two beautiful horses
caparisoned with gold and precious stones. Once over the bridge, the
Dutch made the obeisance another time and entered the higher square
situated to the right of the grand audience hall. In the front section of the
grand audience hall was the window throne (siha banchon), raised four
fathoms above the floor, where the King showed himself on some occa-
sions. Some forty feet to each side of this throne stood two richly-deco-
rated elephants. Court officials, their faces bent downwards, lay prone on
both sides of the square. After performing one more obeisance, the Dutch
‘crawled’ into the hall via the steps on the right side of the window throne.
Having crossed the threshold, they performed their obeisance again. The
audience hall was very big and long, supported by four rows of fifty
wooden pillars each. The two rows in the middle were taller than the oth-
ers (because they supported a triangular-shaped roof ). Between the walls
of the audience hall and the outer pillars sat musicians and court servants.
On the inside of them, between the lower and higher pillars sat the lower-
ranking officials. The most prominent khunnang sat between the two
rows of high pillars. Besides the court servants, Schouten estimated the
number of the King’s officials at some 400-500 people. After many more
reverences, the Dutch finally reached their sitting places at the fifth pillar
from the end of the hall. From there, they beheld on their left-hand side
the gifts from the Prince of Orange, as well as the gold and silver tribu-
tary flowers (bunga emas dan perak) from the vassal states of Siam—both
60 CHAPTER THREE

symbolizing the King’s international fame. Right in front of them was the
main throne to which they, again, did not forget to execute a reverential
gesture. While setting themselves in the Siamese way—half-sitting and
half-prone on their elbows—, Schouten noticed that, in front of him,
about twenty people of high status—for they wore a golden headdress—
surrounded the letter of Prince Frederick Henry which was raised three
feet above ground in a gold cup standing on a big gold bowl. Despite the
magnificence of the whole event, Schouten still found something to
criticize: the ‘poorly painted’ hall and roof as well as the floor covered with
‘cheap’ rattan mats.13
Schouten’s description then came to King Songtham. The monarch
appeared on the main throne, clad in white and wearing a long white
pyramidal-shaped head-cloth offset by a tiara adorned with many pre-
cious stones, which was ‘not unlike the papal crown’. The royal throne
consisted of three pieces rising up from a base in the form of a pyramid.
It was skilfully made, gilded, and exquisitely embellished with mother-of-
pearl and black lacquer. On both sides of the throne stood several para-
sols of different sizes: the tallest one was seven feet high on a golden pole
twenty-five feet long.
Despite the great number of people present, Schouten was impressed
by the astonishing silence which reigned in the audience hall. An official
announced the presence of the letter, gifts, and representatives of the
Prince of Orange, ‘whom they [the Siamese] called in their own way the
King of Holland’. The Phrakhlang explained to the assembly that the mis-
sive and presents from King Songtham had reached the Prince of Orange
who had in his turn responded with these letter and gifts, which had
made their way to Siam via Batavia. The content of the letter was respect-
fully read aloud in Thai by the King’s ‘upper secretary’. The monarch
asked De Marees and Schouten whether they had anything else to say.
But, at this moment, they only showed their gratitude for his favour. The
King expressed his condolences on the deaths of the ambassador and
Prince Maurice as well as his congratulations on the succession of the new
Stadholder. He gave De Marees and Schouten each a gold cup and a piece
of damask, which was immediately swathed around their bodies.
Schouten showed his appreciation of the ‘enjoyable’ music, which was
played during the ceremony and alternated with a long prayer chanted by
a court Brahman.14
The readiness of the Dutch to comply with court custom did have its
limits. De Marees and Schouten refused to bathe their faces in what the
latter called ‘holy water’, presumably regarding it as a ‘heathen’ practice.
The water was sent around to the courtiers in a silver cup, and presented
exclusively to the King in a gold cup by one of his Brahmans who per-
formed the ceremony. Subsequently, food, sweets, fruit, and water were
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 61

served in silver cups. Van Nijenrode had remarked that at the Siamese
court ‘no plates and cups for eating and drinking are used unless fash-
ioned of pure gold and silver’.15 During the banquet, Schouten noticed
that guards with gold sabres, with their back to the pillars, kept watch
over the whole gathering. After the meal, each participant received a
spoonful of fragrant unguent to apply to his face and hair and a small
wreath of flowers to put on his hair. These seemed to be more agreeable
to the Dutch. Once more, Schouten found the music during the banquet
‘sweet and melodious’.
When the music stopped, the whole gathering paid homage to the
King, again. King Songtham now commenced a formal conversation with
his Dutch guests, asking them about the well-being of the Prince of
Orange. The Dutch answered positively and did not fail to mention to
the monarch that their Prince was engaged in the war with Spain, obvi-
ously to remind him of the ongoing Dutch-Iberian hostility. Upon the
King’s ‘encouragement’ to speak freely about the wishes of the Governor-
General, both VOC men now tried to explain their business, especially
stressing their wish to export Siamese rice to Batavia. However, their
attempt was abortive because their request was not translated and con-
veyed to the King by the Phrakhlang who, as was his duty, supervised the
conversation between the King and the foreign guests and indeed the
whole protocol. At last, the Dutch accepted the fact that they had no
chance of succeeding. Schouten had two possible explanations for this:
either their effort had indeed jarred against the protocol which governed
the whole event, or it was sabotaged by the Phrakhlang’s attempt to
obstruct the VOC business—probably with the intention of keeping the
matter subservient to his own manipulations. Finally, King Songtham
withdrew from the scene behind the curtain which was closed with sur-
prising speed.16
From this event, Schouten drew one more conclusion, which reflected
his opinion of how the Dutch were treated at the Siamese court. He con-
sidered it an unusual honour for any foreigner in the kingdom that the
Dutch were allowed to join a court ceremony for more than two hours.
Schouten must have been informed that audiences for foreigners usually
lasted a shorter time.
On 4 January 1629, De Marees and Schouten bade their farewell to the
new King, Chetthathirat, the successor of his father who had died on
12 December 1628. Despite the fact that the Dutch had been ordered by
the High Government in Batavia to leave Siam, the young monarch
declared that he would continue his father’s friendly policy towards them.
He demonstrated his friendship by reciprocating with a missive and gifts
to the Prince of Orange—gold-sheathed swords adorned with rubies and
various sorts of textiles—and by honouring the departing Opperhoofd and
62 CHAPTER THREE

his assistant. De Marees was given a silver betel box which was the
insignia of an official of the okphra rank, which Schouten compared with
that of a European baron. Schouten himself received a sabre in a gold
scabbard which was usually given to an okluang or okkhun which was, in
his understanding, a knight or captain in the European system. The let-
ter from the Phrakhlang to the Governor-General also echoed the need to
maintain good relations with the Dutch: he asked Batavia to send its per-
sonnel to trade in Ayutthaya again. At the end of January, apart from a
few employees left behind to look after the Company affairs, the VOC
men sailed off to the Company ships at the river mouth, accompanied by
the royal vessels. They departed in a friendly atmosphere, without know-
ing that the Dutch would return to see a different King.17

Two Exhausting Hours: De Roij’s Embassy, 1633

When VOC Ambassador Jan Joosten de Roij arrived in Ayutthaya in
September 1633, the Dutch-Siamese relationship had entered a new
stage. In May, the Company had re-opened its factory in Ayutthaya under
the direction of Schouten. Undoubtedly, the arrival of the missive and
presents from Prince Frederick Henry helped facilitate the renewed con-
tact. Now, Siam also had a new ruler, King Prasatthong. De Roij’s account
of the reception of his embassy is no less detailed and fascinating than
Schouten’s piece of 1628, and also repeats it in many points. It was not
unusual that a ‘visitor’, as De Roij in this case, based his account upon the
knowledge of the ‘resident’. Therefore, the following paragraphs will pres-
ent mainly the differences between the two reports, which point to the
disparity of characters between their writers, namely De Roij’s annoyance
with and limited understanding of Siamese court ritual.
Upon his arrival, De Roij immediately transgressed the local diplomat-
ic protocol when he carried the princely missive from the vessel to the
VOC lodge himself. The Dutch had to return it to the ship in secret, from
where it was soon collected with great honour by the Siamese officials.18
During the transportation of the missive to the royal palace by a ceremo-
nial flotilla, the Dutch made another mistake: they fired a salute without
the permission of the city authorities. De Roij noted that the Siamese
showed their understanding that firing a salute was a Dutch way of show-
ing respect; however, they would have preferred the Dutch not to do so,
for the King might be displeased.19
Prior to the audience of welcome, the information gathering had
started on both sides. De Roij reported that King Prasatthong had
inquired of his officials about the Dutch embassy, asking such questions
as what quality of man was the envoy. The Dutch in their turn learnt from
the court interpreter assigned to them, Okphra Ratchamontri,20 that the
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 63

King was very pleased with the harquebus sent by the Stadholder but
wondered why the cuirass had no gold on it. The Dutch were told that,
in Siam, a gift without gold was considered ‘un-royal’.21 According to
Siamese custom, the monarch gave some money and a piece of cloth ‘of
low value and with weird pattern’ to every envoy sent to him. De Roij
deemed this act disrespectful for the Dutch who lacked neither money
nor goods.22
On 5 October, the Dutch Ambassador and the Opperhoofd were
solemnly received at court. De Roij estimated that about 11,000 to
12,000 persons, nobles as well as commoners, attended the court on that
day.23 He was more enthusiastic about the ceremoniously bedecked ele-
phants than about the poorly armed soldiers.24 De Roij’s description of
the audience hall and the protocol of the event overwhelmingly resembles
Schouten’s report of 1628. Yet, unlike Schouten who was familiar with
court etiquette, the ambassador was obviously disturbed by having to
approach the audience hall in the Siamese manner, moving along with
body bent and folded hands, crawling on hands and knees, and perform-
ing the gesture of respect towards the King’s residence, which he called a
‘nasty superstitious reverence’. In the audience, King Prasatthong formal-
ly conversed with the Ambassador, concerning the well-being of the
Prince of Orange and his vassals, as well as of De Roij himself and
Schouten. The King also offered help through his Phrakhlang and ordered
the Opperhoofd to assist the Ambassador and instruct him in Siamese cus-
tom, since he was familiar with the country’s tradition and was regarded
as one of the King’s own servants.25
After the audience, some officials told the Dutch that King Prasatthong
had never before held such a long conversation with any foreign ambas-
sador. Assuredly, this nourished the hope of the Dutch of his favour.
However, in contrast to Schouten’s opinion of the 1628 reception, De
Roij personally did not make any effort to understand the whole proce-
dure other than describing it as two exhausting hours ‘with hard labour,
pain and difficulty’.26
On the next day, De Roij was honoured with a special banquet given
at the pavilion where the Phrakhlang usually received people. The place
was carpeted with mats and decorated with painted cloths. The
Ambassador and his men enjoyed the meal alone without the participa-
tion of any khunnang who were prohibited from sharing the food sent for
the guests from the court. The meal consisted of dishes in eight copper
trays, each of which was divided into forty little silver cups. Four trays
contained smoked and fried food, two had all kinds of fruit, and the other
two were filled with Thai sweets and desserts. They were served with
water and arrack to drink, and all was rounded off with betel.
Undoubtedly, the Dutch must have understood that the offering of betel
64 CHAPTER THREE

was ‘the essence of courtesy and hospitality’, which was widely practised
in South-East Asia.27
The Dutch Ambassador proudly reported that the missive from Prince
Frederick Henry was stored in ‘the most splendid spot of his [the Siamese
King’s] throne under a ceiling decorated with gold and precious stones
where the gold statues of the late kings also stood, and beside two other
missives, namely [the one from] the Emperor [actually Shogun] of Japan
and the other from the Emperor of China’.28 Nevertheless, the Siamese
court requested that the missive which the Prince of Orange should send
to its King should in future be written on a gold sheet as was the one the
court was preparing to send to Holland. The Dutch should consider this
seriously because, as gold was the most precious and enduring substance
of all, the friendship between the Dutch and the Siamese should be ‘eter-
nal and unbreakable’.29
The Dutch and the Siamese gathered once more in the temple of the
‘Former Queens’ to translate the letter from King Prasatthong to
Frederick Henry. De Roij was irritated by the ‘unnecessary flatteries and
lack of substance’ in the letter. The Siamese ruler wrote to his Dutch
counterpart that he would treat the Prince’s servants and enemies as his
own. This was more than flattery because Prasatthong also requested their
military assistance to suppress rebellious Patani—expecting the Dutch to
treat his enemies as their own. This message was to be used repeatedly as
an argument by both sides. The King’s reciprocal gifts to the Stadholder
included a gold sabre, a gold kris, and low-quality velvet. The Governor-
General received a gold cup adorned with rubies and some pieces of tex-
tile from the King, besides two pieces of damask on the Phrakhlang’s
account. De Roij was given a silver betel box with little gold cups and
some cloth as farewell gifts from the court—this time, he did not consider
the gift-giving an insult.30

The Beginning of the Troubles: Schouten’s Embassy, 1636

When the letters and gifts from Prince Frederick Henry and Governor-
General Anthonio van Diemen (1636-45) to King Prasatthong arrived in
September 1636, there were two major changes. For the first time, instead
of sending an ambassador, the VOC now appointed the incumbent
Opperhoofd to be the official Dutch envoy, offering as an explanation to
the Siamese that Schouten was qualified to undertake this task because of
his knowledge of the local language and customs. The second change was
that this was the first time that a Governor-General displayed his power
to the King of Siam through diplomacy.
In an effort to please the Siamese monarch, besides such precious gifts
as a crown and a sword, the Stadholder’s missive had been written on a
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 65

gold sheet, precisely as the Siamese court had requested. It travelled to

Ayutthaya in the company of more than 800 men dispersed over sixteen
vessels. Schouten himself escorted it in a long boat under a gilded canopy
which the King had granted him three years earlier. As was customary, the
VOC lodge was finely decorated with flags and banners. Likewise, the
Siamese showed their readiness to accommodate the Dutch way: the
Company servants were now allowed not only to sound their trumpets
and beat their drums, but also to fire a salute from their lodge, which was
reciprocated by their colleagues on the vessels. Moreover, the council of
the factory had decided to provide the employees who took part in this
ceremony (ten soldiers, a trumpeter, and a servant) with new clothes
which they could also wear to other court events.31
The audience of welcome was as solemn as ever. The princely missive
was customarily displayed in a gold container, while the letter from the
Governor-General was placed in a smaller vessel at a lower position. The
distinction in prestige between the two was made palpably clear.
Schouten wrote that King Prasatthong, wearing a magnificent costume
and a crown, appeared like ‘an earthly god’.32 This shows that the Siamese
court protocol indeed achieved the desired effect—to create the impres-
sion of the divinity of its ruler and to distinguish him from the world of
mere mortals. Schouten assured the Governor-General that his embassy
had been very welcome because the King granted him betel in ‘a gold
vessel’.
During the audience, the Thai version of the missive from Prince
Frederick Henry was read aloud. Tactfully, those parts in the letter from
the Governor-General, in which he complained that Siam had failed to
keep its promise to deliver rice to Batavia in the previous year and
addressed the ongoing conflict between Siam and Patani, were omitted
because, as Schouten was given to understand, it was court custom to cre-
ate the impression that Siam was on good terms with other nations.33
Flying in the face of all his previous experience, the Opperhoofd still tried
to insert the Governor-General’s complaint about the export of Siamese
rice into his formal conversation with the King. The Phrakhlang obstruct-
ed his attempt on the grounds that it was not the custom to make com-
plaints during the welcoming audience.
In his above-mentioned letter to King Prasatthong, Van Diemen
explicitly accused the King of having failed to provide Batavia with an
adequate supply of rice with the consequence that ‘the city of Batavia very
nearly came to be gripped by famine, which is … a matter completely at
odds with our long-established friendship’. The accusation went on: ‘[it]
reluctantly leads us to conclude that Your Majesty has acted against the
duty of friendship, and this to such a degree that it seems as if it was Your
Majesty’s intention to weaken our city through famine and want’. Less
66 CHAPTER THREE

than tactfully, Van Diemen emphasized that the VOC had found other
sources of rice which freed Batavia from its logistic dependence on Siam.
This message had caused astonishment among the khunnang at the trans-
lation ceremony and also had astonished King Prasatthong during his
council meeting.34
Having overstepped the bounds of propriety, Schouten was faced with
difficulty in obtaining a farewell audience with the King, so much so that
he thought that the Siamese intentionally avoided setting a date. Should
Schouten be in a rush to depart, the Phrakhlang said, he could neither
give him a solemn farewell nor prepare the return letter and presents for
the Prince of Orange. At the same time, the Dutch were informed that
the Ambassador from Bengal was due to receive a farewell audience from
the King. Consequently, they felt that the present Phrakhlang did not
have their interests at heart. Schouten pointed out that with the help of
the Minister’s predecessor, De Roij’s embassy had been able to return to
Batavia within a month. Under these circumstances, the Dutch fell back
on two typical explanations: either it was the Minister’s personal sluggish-
ness, or the King’s intention not to reciprocate with precious tokens.
Schouten may have drawn the latter conclusion from his negative experi-
ence the previous year. Then, he was told by some ‘good friends’ of the
Company that, in refusing to give him—who was leaving for Batavia—a
farewell audience on the grounds that he was no envoy but a resident,
King Prasatthong hoped not to have to reciprocate the gifts of the
Governor-General.35
When it was all said and done, the Bengali envoy was not granted any
audience, and the Dutch believed that the court might have felt their
resentment. To avoid ‘loss and disgrace’, Schouten and his council decid-
ed to press for the farewell audience because they wanted the Siamese
court to show respect to the Prince of Orange and to reciprocate in gift-
giving; were this not so, the Company would have incurred a loss on its
investment in the gifts to Prasatthong.36 Having given up hope of winning
the Phrakhlang’s favour, the Dutch tried to obtain help from other offi-
cials, such as Okya Uthaitham (the King’s ‘Chamberlain’). They finally
found the right man in Okphra Alak (the King’s ‘Secretary’), with whose
help the missive from Prasatthong to Frederick Henry was issued within
a short time. This was only half the battle. Translating it turned out to be
another challenge. In the preamble to the missive, Schouten, who was
undoubtedly experienced with Siamese State letters, believed that there
were many unfamiliar, unconventional words and even words in the
Siamese ‘ecclesiastical language’ (Pali), which he unfortunately did not
specify but considered ‘utterly arrogant’. It seems that the missive and
presents for the Prince of Orange were sent to Batavia only after
Schouten’s departure.37
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 67

For the Dutch, this episode may have been another instance of proof
of Siamese ‘laziness’ and ‘greediness’. However, with all his experience
Schouten himself must also have realized that something had gone wrong
in the Dutch-Siamese relationship when he reported to Van Diemen that
King Prasatthong was better pleased with the gifts than with the letter
from Batavia.38 In contrast to the Prince of Orange’s attempt to gratify the
Siamese King with a gold-engraved missive, Van Diemen’s letter may have
offended Prasatthong and made him aware of the changing, increasingly
self-confident attitude of Batavia. The monarch now showed the undis-
guised sign of his disfavour by refusing to grant Schouten a formal
farewell as envoy. Yet, the full impact of the Governor-General’s affront to
Prasatthong was to be felt, soon after Schouten had left Siam, by Van
Vliet and those who remained behind in the ‘Picnic Incident’ of
December 1636.39
In 1638, another letter from Van Diemen again outraged King
Prasatthong, because its contents criticized the King’s actions in the
‘Picnic Incident’ and the declaration of responsibility imposed on the
Dutch in Siam and even suggested that the Governor-General was think-
ing of ‘mending the disgrace in Siam’. Reportedly, the King said that not
even an enemy had ever treated him so harshly, and that it was almost
intolerable that the Governor-General, who was ‘a mandarin of the Dutch
King’, had sent him such a threatening message and instructed him how
to rule his kingdom. From the Phrakhlang, the Governor-General
demanded free sale of all imports brought into Siam by the VOC, and the
exemption of the Company employees from the Siamese ‘servile law’ and
the King’s judicial power.40 For whatever motives, Prasatthong decided to
tolerate this second affront. According to his courtiers, he chose to take
the harshness of the letter as an ‘honest’ expression of the Governor-
General’s dissatisfaction and a reflection of his problems with Siam. He
also read the return of Van Vliet with these letters and gifts as a sign that
Batavia had no real intention of doing Siam any harm. For the sake of the
long friendship with the ‘King of Holland’, Prasatthong received the
Dutch letter and its bearer, Van Vliet, as part of the ceremony of the oath
of allegiance. The Opperhoofd emphasized that no foreign envoy had ever
enjoyed the privilege of attending this ceremony.
King Prasatthong may have tried to be conciliatory because he wanted
to avoid a confrontation with the VOC military power, or because he did
not want to lose the Dutch partnership in trade, especially their direct
access to Japan which Siam had lost after 1636. Nevertheless, as already
mentioned, in 1640, his low level of tolerance snapped and he almost had
all Company men in Ayutthaya killed.
68 CHAPTER THREE

The Benefit of an Unaccomplished Mission: Van Vliet’s Embassy, 1641

In 1641, yet another missive and gifts from the Prince of Orange to the
King of Siam arrived in Ayutthaya under Van Vliet’s supervision. The first
attempt to take the missive into the city was halted halfway and post-
poned until the following day because on that very morning the court
astrologer had deemed the day inauspicious. King Prasatthong sent twen-
ty cannons to the VOC lodge with which the Dutch were to fire a salute
when the Prince’s missive passed by their settlement. As had Schouten
and De Roij before him, Van Vliet recorded a favourable impression of
the overall splendour and honour with which the missive was collected.41
To avoid any dissatisfaction, the VOC men in Ayutthaya, who must
have been sick and tired of the tensions caused by Batavia, had decided to
soften the tone of Van Diemen’s letter to the King in the translated ver-
sion, probably with the support of the Siamese officials. Nevertheless,
they maintained the original content of the letter to the Phrakhlang.
While complaining that the King and the ‘greedy’ Minister regarded the
gifts from Batavia, which consisted of ‘paintings’ and ‘painted elephants’,
with indifference, the council in Ayutthaya decided to rescue the reputa-
tion of their Batavian superior by adding more presents on his behalf.42
This embassy marked an important turning point in the relations: Prince
Frederick Henry wrote to King Prasatthong that he would like to stop
their correspondence because their kingdoms were so far apart, and
because the Governor-General had sovereign powers in Asia.43
Through a combination of circumstances, such as the King’s progress
to Wat Thepphachan at Nakhon Luang (north of Ayutthaya) and the
‘incompetence’ of the Syahbandar and Phrakhlang, Van Vliet and his two
assistants, Reinier van Tzum and Isaac Moerdijck, were admitted to the
audience only on 29 October—almost a month after the arrival of the let-
ters and gifts. During the standard conversation with the King, Van Vliet
did not forget to inform, or rather remind, him that the Dutch had con-
quered Malacca. King Prasatthong behaved very courteously conversing
with the assistants, too, even addressing them by their names. Apparently
with more appreciation of the material splendour of the court than its
protocol, Van Vliet, who had been impressed by the magnificent recep-
tion of the princely missive, now described this audience as the ‘flattery
practice’ of the court.44
Evidently, Van Vliet gave up hope of or simply made no effort to
obtain Prasatthong’s reciprocation to the Prince of Orange. The King’s
unwillingness to reciprocate may also have taken its cue from the Prince’s
intention to stop their correspondence. More importantly, the Opperhoofd
concentrated on pressing for a return letter and gifts for the Governor-
General. Finally, King Prasatthong conceded by giving Van Vliet, but him
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 69

alone, a farewell audience, and sending a letter and return gifts to the
Governor-General, which, including an elephant, exceeded the total value
of the gifts from Batavia.45
Having achieved this small diplomatic triumph for the Dutch, Van
Vliet re-assessed the benefit of the diplomatic exchange with Siam. He
reasoned that maintaining direct contact between the Prince of Orange
and the Siamese King was essential to win the latter’s favour for the
Company. The downside was that arranging an embassy to accompany
the Prince’s letter not only burdened the Company financially but the
respect of the Siamese for the Stadholder also undermined the position of
the Governor-General in his relations with the Siamese King.
Notwithstanding Van Vliet’s previous attempt to explain the ‘kingly
authority’ of the Governor-General—to wage war, conclude treaties, and
administer justice,46 the Siamese King regarded the Prince of Orange and
not the Governor-General as his equal. Van Vliet believed that the King
and his courtiers thought that Batavia was so much obliged to preserve
the good relations between the Siamese King and the Dutch Stadholder
that it would not dare use force against Siam. He also felt that it was this
conviction which had encouraged the King to terrorize the Company
men in his kingdom as in the incidents of 1636 and 1640, which he lived
through.47
Finally, on 28 December 1641, Van Vliet and his party left Ayutthaya
without the return letter and gifts for the Prince of Orange. His conclud-
ing evaluation of the embassy read: ‘In my opinion, the King’s silent
answer [to the Prince of Orange] is the greatest benefit that the Company
derived from this mission.’ The Company men in Siam expected that,
given his ‘avaricious nature’, King Prasatthong would drop sending return
gifts to the Stadholder altogether. Van Vliet recommended to Batavia
that, in order to delay the King’s answer to the Prince of Orange—should
there be one—even longer, the Governor-General should not send letters
to the King and his Minister in the coming year (that is 1642). The
Dutch expected Prasatthong to be too arrogant to initiate another
exchange of letters and gifts himself and, therefore, would wait for Batavia
to take the first step. In this way, Van Vliet believed that Siamese pride
would be dented and the Company could save some expense, at least for
a while.
Though keen on hurting Siamese pride, Van Vliet still remained fairly
realistic. For a more immediate reason it was impossible not to write back
to the King at all because Prasatthong sent an interpreter with the VOC
ship. Officially this courtier was to arrange papers for the Dutch when
they called at ports in the Gulf of Siam and Patani as well as to deliver the
court’s letters to the High Government in Batavia. Uncompromisingly,
the Dutch believed him to be a spy who would report on the reception of
70 CHAPTER THREE

the King’s letter in Batavia. Van Vliet took pains to emphasize that, to
maintain the relationship, the Governor-General had to keep correspon-
ding with the Siamese court. The letters and gifts from Batavia were to be
delivered by the Opperhoofd in Siam who, with his knowledge of local
affairs, could perform this duty better than some unskilled envoy. As we
know, this practice, which in effect enhanced the status of the Opperhoofd
in Siam, had already become a norm since 1636. Van Vliet also recom-
mended Batavia send only a short letter containing formal compliments
and references to the time-honoured friendship, but refraining from men-
tioning what commodities the VOC needed from Siam because to show
such dependency would, again, only inflate ‘Siamese arrogance’. What-
ever should happen, the Company should continue sending presents or
having its men in Ayutthaya occasionally presenting gifts to the King and
the Phrakhlang. Van Vliet pointed out that, specifically in the case of the
Phrakhlang, Batavia had to be more flexible in budgeting expenses and to
trust the Opperhoofd to make a decision on the spot, because the holder
of this office could be demoted and replaced by another one as easily as
re-appointed, at any time.48
The post-1641 diplomacy was conducted strictly between the VOC
and the court of Ayutthaya. The Governor-General dispatched letters to
both the King and the Phrakhlang. Van Diemen’s demand of 1639 that
the King of Siam should write to him personally was not fulfilled. As a
rule, the Siamese King did not write to anyone who was not his equal—
a prince thus—but corresponded through his Phrakhlang.49 Van Vliet’s
above-mentioned proposal only endorsed the already visible trend in the
diplomatic practice of the High Government of Batavia which, by drop-
ping the part of the Prince of Orange, sought both to downsize its diplo-
matic obligations and to strengthen its standing among the Asian rulers.
In fact, not only the Siamese but even the formidable Japanese authori-
ties were made aware of Van Diemen’s Bataviacentric diplomacy.50

Siam’s Asian Diplomacy: Dutch Observations

Since the Dutch initially hoped to profit from the connection between
Siam and China, it was not surprising that one of the earliest mentions of
Siamese foreign relations in Dutch records concerned China. Also from
Siam’s experience, the Dutch realized that the only way to get access to
the China trade was to use an embassy. In 1617, Van Nijenrode wrote
from Ayutthaya:
[A]s much it concerns [the participation in] the China trade, I insist on my
previous opinion, [that] it certainly cannot be obtained, according to all
Chinese who understand the affairs of China, unless it is requested by means
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 71

of an ambassador with credentials and appropriate presents. Without asking

for [permission to] trade, the ambassadors have liberty [to trade] and at
[their] will, the traders can obtain enough goods. The Siamese ambassador
makes such a journey [to China] usually [every] two years ... Yearly, the
[Siamese] junks come over and one remains behind to wait for the ambas-
sador’s arrival. When he departs, both junks go with him.51

Later, Van Vliet wrote that by tradition the King of Siam had the right to
send an embassy to Canton ‘yearly’, under which pretext he could have
traded there, but ‘by pride and arrogance’ he had failed to seize the oppor-
tunity. While the Siamese may not have needed to send tribute yearly, this
was certainly incomprehensible for the Dutch who still sought to improve
their access to China.52
In 1634, Prasatthong’s court was considering sending an embassy to
Japan for the first time. Diplomatic relations between the two countries,
begun only in 1606, had been suspended since his usurpation in 1629
because the Shogunate refused to recognize his legitimacy. Through the
intermediacy of some officials, a certain group of Japanese merchants
urged the Siamese court to send envoys to re-establish the relationship
with their home country, in the hope of a revival of trade. If this could
not be achieved, they would rather leave Siam and invest their silver-based
capital somewhere else!
Being aware of the VOC presence in Japan, the Siamese officials con-
sulted Van Vliet about the possibility to follow up this request. The
Opperhoofd first emphasized that this embassy would have a financial
implication: the gifts required by the Japanese Government had to be
worth at least 2,000 catties of silver. Furthermore, he suggested, while
sending the embassy in the name of King Prasatthong would make Siam
look inferior to Japan, envoys sent in a minister’s name only might not be
accepted at all. Personally, Van Vliet considered this advice to send an
embassy to Japan a ruse of the Japanese merchants who hoped, in this
way, to raise capital from their Chinese and Moor counterparts in
Ayutthaya, which would enable them to load their ship with sappanwood
and dispatch it to Japan. Should the embassy succeed, much honour
would accrue to these Japanese. But if it was rejected by the Japanese
authorities, they would say that they had been forced into it by the
Siamese court. In trying to discourage Ayutthaya from attempting to
revive its contacts with Japan, Van Vliet was playing with what he per-
ceived to be characteristic of the ‘arrogant’ and ‘avaricious’ King
Prasatthong: the sense of (diplomatic) pride of the Siamese King and his
concern about the high cost of an embassy. Perspicaciously, he also report-
ed that the khunnang rather suspected that the Dutch answer was not
totally unselfish because they themselves were engaged in the trade
between Siam and Japan. In the end, King Prasatthong still decided to
72 CHAPTER THREE

send an embassy to Japan in that year, but, like all other six which fol-
lowed it, it was not received.53
In March 1639, the embassies from Pegu54 and China (the latter came
aboard a Siamese royal junk sent to Canton in 1635) arrived in Ayutthaya
around the same time. Peking sent a gold-engraved missive and the gifts
consisting of gold, pieces of silk, and cloth woven with gold thread, were
valued at 600 reals-of-eight altogether. After a translation ceremony at
court, clearly proudly, Van Vliet reported that the letter from China was
placed in the very same sacred chamber which also held the missives from
Holland.55 The presents from Pegu included a beautiful horse with saddle
and bridle, some rubies, and cloth, with a total value of 800 reals-of-eight.
Van Vliet commented that the arrival of the embassy from Pegu
delighted King Prasatthong greatly, ‘partly because, by the arrival of the
embassy, his greatness stands out even more in the eyes of his mandarins
and subjects, and partly because His Majesty has never been able to
ensure the friendship of the Peguan, which he believes now is definite’.
Burma had defeated Siam in 1569 and virtually accepted the reality of its
independence only by the early 1630s.56 In 1637, the King of Pegu had
sent an embassy to ask for Siam’s assistance in deterring the threat from
neighbouring Ava. While receiving this embassy warmly, the Siamese
court still suspected that the plea for help might be a trap set by Pegu and
Ava to lure Thai troops out of Ayutthaya so that their united force could
march to attack the unguarded capital. Van Vliet had then concluded that
relations between the Kings of Siam and Pegu were not harmonious and
yet they did not possess enough strength to wage war on each other.57
The Ambassadors from Pegu and China were given a splendid audi-
ence by King Prasatthong at the same time. Van Vliet noted that the dia-
logues between the King and both Ambassadors were arbitrated by the
Phrakhlang, who actually presented the answers from the envoys in the
way the King liked to hear and to have this heard.58 Certainly, it should
be borne in mind that the Dutchman could not possibly understand what
the envoys actually said, and that he, too, heard what he wanted to hear.
Although Van Vliet emphasized that both embassies were received in the
same manner, he particularly drew the attention of his readers to the con-
tents and style of the missive from the King of Pegu to his Siamese coun-
terpart, which he deemed to be full of ‘foolish, conceited titles and
unearthly compliments’. The message, which, fortunately for us, irritated
Van Vliet so much that he recorded it in detail, read:
That the Burmese and Siamese Kings both possess the greatest, noblest, and
most outstanding lands in the world,
that the one rules in the east where the sun rises, and the other in the west
where the sun sets,
that they both incorporate the divine might and, therefore, are illustrious
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 73

and invincible,
that they both are all-powerful who possess the power over life and death,
body and soul,
that, like the throne of the Burmese King is ornamented with rubies and pre-
cious stones, the one of the Siamese King is woven with gold,
that they both are brothers who are bestowed with red, white and round-
tailed elephants, the carrier animals that are given to no other kings on earth,
that they both possess the sword of dread and thus are always triumphant
over their enemies,
that they both are the most beloved kings among their vassals and are wor-
shipped like the sun at its height of the heaven with joy and pleasure as
immortal gods,
that all these dignities are given to them by gods and by law, regarding the
holy duties and services that they do for their gods, such as to lay on a feast,
to distribute alms to the clergy, to renovate and build the temples and
statues.
Furthermore, the King of Pegu expressed his wish to continue to main-
tain the monkhood and build temples and other religious monuments to
the glory of Buddhism. He also urged the Siamese King to do the same,
promising that in doing so their friendship would grow and they would
remain allied.59 Ironically, reflecting on their common ideas of kingship,
such a message of passionate friendship and fraternal affection was part of
the centuries-long power struggles between the Mon and Burmese rulers
and their Siamese counterparts.
The brutal fact that the immunity of foreign envoys was not honoured
in Siamese conceptions of such matters was evident to the Dutch. They
saw King Prasatthong have an ambassador and his deputies from the
Sultan of Aceh, whom the King of Siam usually treated as his equal,
thrown into prison. As Van Vliet understood the matter, this Ambassador
had caused a misunderstanding between the two rulers by giving his mas-
ter false hope that the Siamese King was willing to give his daughter in
marriage to the Crown of Aceh. The Opperhoofd complained that the
Ambassador was kept in Ayutthaya against ‘the law of nations’ (het recht
der volckeren) which was still a very new concept then. He referred here
to the concept of the immunity of diplomatic representatives, which had
been emerging, yet not fully codified, in Europe as a universal agree-
ment.60 As he was forbidden to leave the city, the Ambassador suffered
such poverty that he had to sell his gold sword and even his valuable
clothes in order to sustain himself and his suite. After all his means had
run out, he sent his servants to beg the Dutch for help. The Company
men gave him some charity and allowed him to keep the worn-out clothes
he had offered in return for a loan. When the Ambassador wanted to visit
the Dutch, the latter refused to receive him because they were afraid that
King Prasatthong who, they believed, kept surveillance over everyone,
would suspect Dutch intentions by having contacts with his ‘prisoner’.
74 CHAPTER THREE

The Dutch suggested the Ambassador should come along with the
Syahbandar of the Malays and the Company interpreters in order to pre-
vent any suspicion.61
On the lowest rank of the Siamese diplomatic hierarchy were the states
within the region which Ayutthaya considered its vassal states. The Dutch
seemed to have had an adequate knowledge of Siam’s tributary relations.
As mentioned before, Schouten reported that around twenty to thirty sil-
ver and gold flowers were displayed beside the presents from the Prince of
Orange during the reception in 1628. He understood that these tokens
represented the number of polities subject to the King of Siam, and went
on to explain that the golden flowers represented the kingdoms and the
silver ones represented the smaller lordships. He also remarked that the
envoys from Kedah, who were sent by their Sultan to show their submis-
sion to the Siamese King in return for protection after their kingdom had
suffered an invasion from Aceh, were placed on seats even behind those
of the Dutch on that occasion. Schouten also explained that King
Songtham did not speak to them because such was the convention of
treating envoys from the inferior rulers, especially those from the tribu-
tary states.62 His explanation may be only half-true, because the King of
Siam spoke—through the Phrakhlang and interpreters—to these envoys
as part of the protocol when they presented him the tributary gifts. Even
so, they certainly were made to feel their inferior status.
In August 1636, the Ayutthayan court gave a warm welcome to
Mukhtar Beg (‘Mochterbeecq’ in Dutch records), who was sent by the
Nawab of Bengal (then a governor under the Mughal Empire) with a let-
ter to King Prasatthong, although he was actually ‘merely a merchant’.
The aim of this mission was to procure fifty Siamese elephants, which,
though expensive, were considered of a good breed and esteemed among
the Indians.63 Because the Bengali ‘merchant-envoy’ was treated signifi-
cantly better than the ‘ambassadors’ from Patani who arrived around the
same time, Van Vliet assumed that the gifts from Bengal were more
impressive and King Prasatthong saw more profit in Indian cloth than
Patani pepper. Despite the strong presence of Moor elements at court,
Van Vliet did not pay any more attention to the relations between Siam
and the Indian states because ‘the [Siamese] friendship with these [Indian]
governors did not influence matters of state and was only kept up to
accommodate trade’.64

Siam’s European Diplomacy: The Dutch and the Portuguese in 1639

As mentioned earlier, the Dutch had taken the place of the Portuguese as
the most prominent European nation in Siam in the mid-1620s. During
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 75

the 1630s, their ‘decade of disasters’, the Portuguese lost several more
positions in Asia to the VOC.65 To compensate for the loss of the Japan
trade, Macao was now looking to improve its chances elsewhere, includ-
ing in Ayutthaya. Meanwhile, King Prasatthong’s policies towards the
Dutch and the Portuguese had changed. The reconciliation between
Ayutthaya and Patani which began in 1636 reduced the King’s reliance on
Dutch help, but the rising demand of the VOC and Van Diemen’s behav-
iour disenchanted him.
In 1636, King Prasatthong released the Spanish and Portuguese who
had been imprisoned as a result of the Cleen Zeelandt incident of 1624
and sent them back to Malacca and Manila with his envoy Okkhun
Raksasamut (Francisco Alveros). Schouten remarked that this action was
motivated by the King’s desire to reconcile himself with the Iberians
because friendship with the Spaniards in Manila and the Portuguese in
Macao would be beneficial to his ships’ passage to China, Japan, and
Coromandel.66 Van Vliet commented that Prasatthong may have been
displeased that the VOC had recently re-opened a factory in Cambodia
whose King was rebelling against him.67
In early 1639, the Siamese King sent another envoy to Malacca, which
unfortunately was then under Dutch siege. Even so, when his attempt
became known to Macao, its Captain General, Don Sebastião Lobo da
Silveira (1638-45), decided to send an embassy to Ayutthaya.68 Under
these circumstances, in 1639 the visit of a Portuguese embassy from
Macao turned the Siamese court into a virtual battlefield between the
Dutch and the Portuguese.
On 9 April, the embassy from Macao arrived in Bangkok and was
quickly permitted to enter the capital five days later, and its ambassador,
Captain Francisco d’Aguiar Evangelho (‘Giaelwansele’ in the Dutch
account),69 was warmly received by King Prasatthong sixteen days later.
The Portuguese galleon was allowed to lie at anchor in front of the city,
just opposite the Dutch factory, while a provisional residence was built for
the Ambassador.
The VOC employees were immediately informed about this arrival by
the Siamese officials, and were given rough details of the cargo which the
envoy’s vessel had brought in. At first, Opperhoofd Van Vliet showed no
alarm because he expected ‘neither honour nor profit from the
Portuguese’. When he heard that King Prasatthong was very pleased with
the visit, especially with the fact that an ambassador had come, he felt that
the King ‘was fancying’ big business with the Portuguese in the future.
The Opperhoofd used the pretext of illness not to have to attend the recep-
tion of the letter from Macao, probably in order not to pay honour to the
Portuguese presence.70
Nevertheless, Van Vliet paid special attention to the contents of the
76 CHAPTER THREE

Portuguese letter, which he obtained from Okphra Ratchamontri. The

letter read that by the command of the Viceroy in Goa, who acted in the
name of the King of Portugal, the Captain-General of Macao expressed
the desire to re-establish contact with the Siamese King and gratitude for
the release of the Portuguese and Castilian prisoners. Furthermore, he
asked the King to listen to the special requests which his envoy would
present. Again, the Dutch quickly learnt of these requests, which partly
concerned them, through their informant. The essence of this mission
was contained in the four capital points that the Ambassador put before
King Prasatthong through the Phrakhlang. First, the Franciscan priest
who came in his company asked to be allowed to remain at his own cost
and to be given the right to practise his religious belief in freedom and
have access to the court.71 This was obviously an attempt to re-install a
Portuguese agent at the Thai court, since the Portuguese priest had been
denied access to the King and the important officials after the 1624 inci-
dent.72 Secondly, the Portuguese merchants who came to Ayutthaya in
future should be granted the freedom to trade and travel in Siam; King
Prasatthong should grant the Ambassador a licence to ensure this.
Thirdly, the Portuguese asked for another legal document in which the
taxes and duties their men from Macao were obliged to pay in Siam
should be specifically indicated, listing how much they had to pay to
whom among the Siamese officials. The Portuguese seemed to be knowl-
edgeable about the ‘system’ of the Siamese bureaucracy and tried to find
a solution to deal with it. Up to this point, the requests seemed to reflect
typical Portuguese interests: religion and trade. The last request, however,
was the focal point of the interaction between the Siamese, the
Portuguese, and the Dutch, which would be the main point on the agen-
da for the gathering of 19 May.
While this was happening, Okya Yommarat (Justice Minister) asked
the Dutchmen for their opinion of the King’s wish to re-establish contact
with the King of Ceylon (Kandy). When the Okya asked about the best
way to transport a Siamese embassy to Ceylon, the VOC men replied that
they lacked knowledge of the island especially that related to navigation.
Their dissembling was immediately revealed. With his good knowledge of
the state of the Dutch-Portuguese relationship, the Minister of cosmopol-
itan Ayutthaya argued that the Dutch had seized one of the Portuguese
fortresses in Ceylon in the previous year (namely Batticaloa) and that the
Governor-General was allied with the Kandyan King. He also knew that
the Company ships went there constantly. However, to avoid the cost of
transporting a Siamese mission, the Dutch were not in a co-operative
mood and even suggested that the court make use of the Portuguese
galleon which had just arrived from Macao because ‘these people [the
Portuguese] without doubt sail on that water and live there like in their
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 77

own country’. With a smile, Yommarat answered that he knew that this
was not possible.73
On 19 May, both the VOC employees and the suite of the Portuguese
envoy were summoned to the Phrakhlang’s residence. Their rivalry was
palpable from the outset. The interpreter for the Dutch, Okmun
Wichitphasa, took a bribe from his Portuguese counterpart and tried to
delay the Dutch progress to the gathering. But Van Vliet and his men,
aware of that trick, took another path and reached the destination even
before their rivals. At the ministerial residence, a company of the khun-
nang commissioned by the King to observe the meeting was waiting. The
gathering was entertained by court musicians and singers. The Dutch
immediately complained about the trick the interpreter had played to
allow the Portuguese to arrive ahead of them, thereby making the Dutch
look inferior. The Portuguese entourage, which Van Vliet described as
being ‘rather comedians than merchants’, was obstructed on their way by
many curious bystanders who were attracted by its musical and visual pre-
sentations. Finally, the Portuguese arrived and sat down opposite the
Dutch. But then, to the Ambassador’s displeasure, the Phrakhlang, claim-
ing to be acquiescing in the King’s wish, invited Van Vliet to the seat
closer to the head of the table.
When both parties were present, the khunnang invited the Portuguese
Ambassador to start talking to the Dutch, which he declined to do. The
same request to the Dutch was also refused. Food and drink provided by
royal courtesy came to save the situation, but only for a while. While the
Portuguese sat silent, the Dutchmen conversed with their acquaintances.
Finally, the Phrakhlang asked the Portuguese interpreters to ask if the
Ambassador had anything to say to Van Vliet, since this was supposed to
be the purpose of summoning the Opperhoofd in the first place.
Finally, the Portuguese Ambassador made the first move and men-
tioned two factors which had discouraged his people from coming to
trade with Siam: first, the conflict between Siam and Portugal (and
Spain), and secondly, fear of a Dutch attack on their vessels. Now that the
first problem had been solved, Dutch hostility was the only obstruction
left to the revival of Siamese-Portuguese trade. He said that it was known
to the Dutch that the ‘Japanese Emperor’ had commanded the Governor-
General in Batavia and the trade director in Hirado not to attack or
obstruct any Portuguese vessels travelling between Japan and Macao, and
allowed these ships to depart each year fifteen to twenty days prior to the
Dutch ships, so that they would not be pursued or disturbed by the
latter en route. The ‘Emperor’ provided this protection because the
Portuguese in Macao were just poor merchants with badly equipped ships
who sought nothing beyond peaceful trade, and (the trade with) Japan
was their sole source of sustenance. Should any Dutch ship violate this
78 CHAPTER THREE

edict, the Hirado factory had to compensate the damage done to the
Portuguese. Now, the envoy asked King Prasatthong to forbid the Dutch
to attack his people sailing between Macao, Pulau Kondor, and Siam in
the same fashion. Since the Siamese King was no less esteemed than the
‘Japanese Emperor’, the Dutch should obey him as much as they obeyed
the Japanese ruler. In short, the Portuguese were asking King Prasatthong
to command the VOC in Siam to give a legal assurance that would guar-
antee the security of their ships.74
In their turn, the Dutch ridiculed the discordant behaviour of the
Portuguese who had always presented themselves as, in Van Vliet’s words,
the ‘phoenix of the world’ and expected to be respected as such, but
now asked for favour and help from Asian rulers. Warming to their
theme, they accused the Portuguese of helping themselves by painting a
false picture of the Dutch and telling lies about the protection of the
‘Japanese Emperor’. Here, Van Vliet rightly pointed out that the
Portuguese were actually treated badly by the Japanese authorities.75 He
also insisted that there was no instruction from the Governor-General
which prohibited his servants from attacking the Portuguese ships and
ordered them to compensate their loss. Lastly, Van Vliet indicated that he
had no authority to issue such a legal assurance to the Portuguese and that
no Company employees would obey such a command from any Asian
ruler. But were the Portuguese to give the Dutch a licence to pass the
Portuguese ships along the Indian coasts safely, he promised that he
would write to the Governor-General in their favour. The Ambassador
answered that to grant such a request lay beyond the authority and con-
cern of Macao.76
Having listened to both parties, the Phrakhlang finally intervened,
relating that King Prasatthong was delighted by the restoration to friend-
ship of the Portuguese and, as the patron of all foreigners in Siam, he also
wished to see harmony among them. Therefore, the VOC should not
refuse to help realize his wish.77 The Dutch replied that they acknowl-
edged the patronage of the Siamese King and praised him for his wish to
make enemies friends. However, both parties were traditional enemies
because they had waged war against each other for more than seventy
years—since the beginning of the Dutch revolt against Spanish rule in
1568. Therefore, even the help of a great ruler could not pacify them. If
King Prasatthong wished to have the legal guarantee the Portuguese
Ambassador desired, he should refer this matter directly to the Governor-
General in Batavia. He should be forewarned that the request would cer-
tainly be refused and the Company would rather leave Siam than comply
with it. Yet, to make amends for this potentially dangerous stance, the
Dutch quickly added they were willing to compromise. In deference to
the King’s wish, they promised to act in a friendly way to the Portuguese
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 79

on land, on the river, and on the coast within the territory of Siam, if the
latter were friendly to them, too. At sea, however, where the water was five
fathoms deep or more, the Dutch would deal with them in accordance
with the rule of war, as enemies, as the Portuguese would treat them.78
What Van Vliet offered here was actually pointless because it was no
departure from the usual practice. The Dutch would not attack any for-
eigners in Siam because they had learned well from their experience in
1624 that the King would not tolerate a foreign act of aggression in his
realm.
According to Van Vliet, the Siamese officials seemed satisfied with his
answers and also naively expected that when the Dutch and the
Portuguese treated each other in a friendly manner in their presence, this
was a sign of success. They also urged both parties to pay each other a
visit. In the end, the VOC invited the Portuguese Ambassador to visit
their factory, which the latter first accepted, and then failed to turn up.
While the Dutch were not perturbed by this breach of etiquette, a prob-
lem arose on the Siamese side. A few days later, the harbour master came
to report that, after having heard the report of the gathering on 19 May
from the Phrakhlang and Okya Yommarat, the King was satisfied with the
conduct and the answers of the Dutch. He was not pleased to learn that
the Portuguese tried to steal a march by acting deviously and seemed to
have abused his goodwill. The King commanded the Phrakhlang to inves-
tigate why the Portuguese Ambassador failed to keep his promise to visit
the Dutch. The envoy argued that since he possessed a higher position
and was of superior descent and status as a noble captain appointed by the
King of Portugal and as the Ambassador of the Captain-General in
Macao, it would be beneath his dignity to pay a visit to the Dutch before
Van Vliet had come to greet him. He claimed that he may have been
under the influence of the wine served at the gathering on 19 May when
he made such a promise, but he had never had the intention of actually
fulfilling it. The Siamese officials replied that, having dealt with the
Dutch for decades, they had never seen them boast about their descent
and status. In his turn, the Portuguese complained that the Siamese were
partial to the Dutch.
Unfortunately for the Portuguese, the khunnang interpreted this as
inappropriate behaviour on the part of the envoy who tried to obtain the
favour he requested from Van Vliet by sheer arrogance rather than behav-
ing as one who asked for help usually should behave towards his helper.79
The reaction of the Portuguese Ambassador aroused great displeasure
when it was reported to the council of officials. So offended was everyone
that all, except Okya Kalahom (the Minister in charge of Military
Affairs), suggested that the Portuguese should leave Ayutthaya without a
farewell audience or without the King’s letter. At that moment, when the
80 CHAPTER THREE

letter from the Opperhoofd in Jambi to the Phrakhlang arrived, his col-
leagues in Ayutthaya added some lines during the translation process
describing the miserable situation of Malacca under Dutch siege in order
to undermine the Portuguese image in the eye of the court!
Two days later, upon the Dutch visit to Okya Yommarat, the haughti-
ness of the Portuguese envoy was again the topic of the discussion. The
Dutch suggested that the King and the officials paid this Ambassador too
much honour and consequently encouraged his arrogance. They argued
that normally an envoy who was sent by a mere governor was not given a
royal audience, but at most a reception by the council of officials, and that
his letter was answered only by officials of minor rank. The Dutch insist-
ed that it was incorrect that the Siamese court had received this
Portuguese embassy from the Captain-General in Macao, a mere local
governor, and not from the Viceroy in Goa, in the same way it received
an ambassador from the Governor-General in Batavia, who was the coun-
terpart of the Viceroy. Afterwards, the Dutch also recalled that the
Portuguese had boasted to them that King Prasatthong himself had first
offered peace to Manila and Malacca. This had the desired effect, for it
enraged the Siamese who considered the King’s friendly message and the
release of the Spanish and Portuguese prisoners an ‘act of mercy’ and not
one of submission. Pushing home their advantage, the Dutch suggested
that, if King Prasatthong were to offer a personal farewell and send a let-
ter in his name to the Captain-General of Macao, the Ambassador would
become even more arrogant. If the King would send a letter to Batavia in
favour of the Portuguese, the Governor-General would be displeased
because, in his message to the Prince of Orange in 1633, the King had
written that he would treat the Prince’s enemies, who included the
Iberians, like his own.80 On the following day, the Dutchmen and Okya
Yommarat went to tell the Phrakhlang the same story. The furious reac-
tion of the latter was predictable.
Until now, Van Vliet’s account points to the precarious situation into
which the Portuguese Ambassador had largely manoeuvred himself, and
which the Dutch had in part helpfully tried to create for him. Contrary
to what the Dutch hoped, the King was still benign to the Portuguese.
Prasatthong, whom Van Vliet believed to be ‘haughty’, ‘choleric’, and
‘quick to condemn’,81 responded calmly to the Phrakhlang’s report of what
the Dutch said:
The Portuguese are new and have been long absent from here. Our language
and customs are not known to them. We should bring them to understand
these better with time. We must see that they are like slaves who have run
away from their owner and just have come back home by themselves.82

In this way, the King justified his own actions—to indulge and forgive the
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 81

Portuguese—by blaming their lack of understanding of Thai culture for

the Ambassador’s inappropriate behaviour.
On 10 June, the Portuguese were allowed to attend the farewell audi-
ence with the King. They were given a State letter by the Phrakhlang in
His Majesty’s name accompanied by precious gifts for the Captain-
General. Three days later, the Portuguese went to the Phrakhlang’s resi-
dence to collect the letter and the gifts. To the Ambassador’s surprise,
however, the letter was translated into Chinese and Malay, but not into
Portuguese, even though undoubtedly the Siamese court possessed Por-
tuguese translators. Again, the Dutch proved that they had an excellent
information-gathering system at court: they had already learnt from the
Syahbandar about the wording of the message two days before! When the
Ambassador insisted that he be told the content of the letter, the Siamese
explained it to him. First, King Prasatthong was very pleased with the
renewal of friendship with the Portuguese and he assured them that there
was no more disagreement between Siam and Portugal. Secondly, the
Portuguese were granted a legal licence pertaining to the payment of
duties and taxes in Siam. However, the court did not commit itself to pro-
tecting Portuguese vessels from the VOC, which may explain why the
court letter was not available in Portuguese. Extremely indignant, the
Ambassador asked the Phrakhlang what he was supposed to do if a Dutch
ship confronted him on his return journey. The Minister’s sarcastic advice
was anything but helpful: either the Portuguese should deal in a friendly
fashion with the Dutch who were, after all, good people or wave a white
flag at them. When the envoy persisted in obtaining a guarantee for his
countrymen’s security, the Phrakhlang said irritably that the King of Siam
intended to discuss this matter with the Kings of Portugal and Holland,
the Governor General in Batavia, and the Viceroy in Goa. The conversa-
tion was ended when the Minister closed his door—a sign of disfavour—
and left the Portuguese at his wit’s end.83
Despite the unfriendly gesture of the Phrakhlang, the letter and gifts for
Macao were carried to the Portuguese residence as solemnly as those for
the Dutch Governor-General would have been. Flying in the face of pro-
tocol, however, the Portuguese Ambassador still had the opportunity,
even after the farewell audience, to present some further requests to the
King. First, he asked that the King should graciously grant the Franciscan
father a stipend of four taels per month and allow him free access to the
court. Secondly, the merchants in the envoy’s company should be permit-
ted to remain in Ayutthaya until they had sold all their commodities.
Lastly, the Ambassador asked for a loan to buy goods to load onto his ves-
sel for the return journey. The King granted most of these requests. While
the Portuguese source states that the King went as far as to ask for
Christian missionaries (which was highly unlikely), the Dutch text only
82 CHAPTER THREE

mentions that King Prasatthong allowed the priest to stay in Ayutthaya at

his own expense.84 As even the Phrakhlang found these requests unreason-
able because they were submitted after the farewell audience, the Dutch
assumed that the Ambassador had found a helpful friend who had access
to the King.
The Dutch assumption was right. Okya Kalahom, whom Van Vliet
described as a ‘friend of foreigners’, gave the Portuguese a helping hand at
the last minute by carrying their requests to the monarch. The Opperhoofd
remarked bitterly that the Portuguese were helped even better than the
Dutch had been. Actually, the grandee must have been convinced that
Prasatthong himself wanted the Portuguese to be helped, because to have
defended someone in the King’s disfavour would have cost anyone who
did so dearly. The Portuguese Ambassador told Okya Kalahom that, if
Siam could manage to protect them from a Dutch attack, five or six trad-
ing ships from Macao and Manila would call at Ayutthaya every year. Not
only that, merchants from Macao would come to open a factory there.
The Okya promised to report this to the King and to persuade ‘his good
friends’ (the Dutch) to present the problem to their superiors in Batavia.
Unperturbed, the Dutch considered this merely lip service on the part of
the Siamese.85 On 24 July, the Portuguese galleon carrying the embassy
sailed down the Chao Phraya River to the high seas to commence its
return journey to Macao. Van Vliet’s last remark on the episode was that
the vessel was so heavily laden that it would be a miracle if it ever reached
its destination safely.
Despite such disparaging words by which they chose to designate this
Portuguese embassy as ‘comedy’ and ‘comedians’, Van Vliet’s extremely
elaborate report shows that the Dutch were anxious about the prospect
that King Prasatthong would ally himself with the Portuguese. The VOC
men hoped to ‘sabotage’ the Portuguese embassy by using their knowl-
edge of the protocol and people of the Siamese court. Although some of
the Portuguese requests remained unfulfilled and they had to endure
some unfriendly gestures, as described in the Dutch account, the indis-
putable fact was that King Prasatthong had shown them great favour.
Despite his awareness of the Dutch-Portuguese rivalry, he was not ready
to be bound by relations with the Dutch alone. He broke with the legacy
of hostility against the Portuguese which had come down from King
Songtham’s reign, obviously because he felt that the Dutch alliance was
not reliable. Regardless of his efforts, the renewed Portuguese-Siamese tie
did not prosper, exactly as Van Vliet had predicted. After the fall of
Malacca, the position of the Portuguese in the eyes of the Siamese court
again declined.86
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 83

Dutch Participation in Siamese Court Ceremonies

It did not take the VOC employees long to realize that ceremony and fes-
tivities were an essential part of court and common life in Ayutthaya,
including their own. Some Opperhoofden found the Siamese court ritual
fascinating, whereas others deemed it tedious. Indubitably, the Dutch and
other foreigners were tempted to participate in these expressions of court
splendour. Nevertheless, it was a common complaint among the Com-
pany men that, almost throughout the entire year, they were, directly and
indirectly, obstructed from conducting their work by the preparations for
and participation in various court ceremonies and festivities, which
absorbed the concentration of the officials as well as the manpower that
the Company needed to run its business. It was Schouten who first metic-
ulously documented the impressive details of Siamese court ceremonial.
Yet, it was the same man who commented with some irritation on the fact
that the Siamese were deeply occupied with all kinds of celebratory
activities:
[We] could not obtain any labourer because everyone accompanied the King
on his voyage. This month [October or November] is the most inopportune
period of the year [for dealing with the court] when the nobles and the com-
mon people spend time on making offerings to gods and recreational trips
so zealously and uselessly, as if their life and well-being depended on this.87
Certainly, the Buddhist Siamese did feel their life and well-being depend-
ent on these activities for they considered them the means to accumulate
their merit.
Apart from seeing them as time-wasting and distracting them from
their ‘real’ work, the Dutch certainly also realized the significance of court
ceremonies and festivities because they offered an opportunity to have
contact with the King and important courtiers. Participation was neces-
sary as a way of returning the host’s friendliness and for competing with
many other foreign representatives for the court’s attention and favour. It
was essential that people behaved appropriately and read the signs of
favour and disfavour correctly.
To what extent such obligations occupied the time and challenged the
wits of the Company men can be seen from Schouten’s dagregister from
1634. In July, Schouten and Van Vliet were invited by the court, first to
attend the reception of the embassy from Bengal led by Mukhtar Beg and
then to observe the elephant round-up. In September, the Dutch attend-
ed a temple feast and later a celebration in connection with the moving
of four famous Buddha statues from Phitsanulok and Sawankhalok in the
north to Ayutthaya. In October, the Opperhoofd and his assistant
appeared at the farewell audience given to the brother of the King of
Kedah who had come to offer obeisance to King Prasatthong. On the
84 CHAPTER THREE

same occasion, King Prasatthong also gave a warm welcome to the heads
of the Mon refugees who had fled the war in their homeland.88 All were
entertained by an elephant fight on the grand square of the royal palace.
When King Prasatthong asked Schouten’s opinion of this show, he
answered diplomatically that it was a ‘rare and princely spectacle’. Two
weeks later, the court, once more, invited all the prominent foreigners for
the ‘yearly triumphant feast’ given by the King in the ‘main royal temple’
(presumably Wat Phra Si Sanphet which was situated in the royal palace).
Knowing that ‘the Siamese officials would appear with great pomp and
entourage’, Schouten came with his own ‘entourage’ of Dutchmen, for
whom he had asked the court to arrange good seats from which they
could observe the King’s procession and pay him homage. A few days
later, the Dutch attended the farewell audience for the Bengali
Ambassador. In early November, Schouten had to decline an invitation
from the court to join the King’s annual water procession on the grounds
that he was occupied with the loading of the Company ships.
For the foreigners at the Ayutthayan court, an ‘occasional’ reception of
an embassy was different from a ‘routine’ court ceremony because, while
the former concentrated on the one particular nation the envoys repre-
sented, the latter was a chance for the representatives of foreign commu-
nities to compete openly for the King’s attention. As an example, on a
merit-making trip after King Prasatthong had appeared stately on the
back of a fierce elephant, he had his officials ask the Dutch and other for-
eign envoys what they thought of his regal persona. Mukhtar Beg of
Bengal answered that he had never known any monarch who displayed
such magnificence. The envoy from Kedah said that Patani was wrong to
refuse to submit itself to such a powerful ruler. In his turn, Schouten
replied that King Prasatthong ‘was more majestic than any previous kings
especially because he displayed himself to the people on such a fierce ani-
mal as a great ruler’. The Dutchman believed that his own answer espe-
cially pleased the King.89 Whether his opinion was true is less important
than the fact that Schouten showed by his answer that he understood
what the message of protocol was—that it was the demonstration of the
King’s prowess—and how he used that understanding to serve his posi-
tion by giving the Siamese ruler the satisfaction of knowing that his power
was acknowledged.
The Dutch were aware that the King of Siam showed himself outside
his palace only sparingly. But they also realized that each of his public
appearances was made to impinge well and truly on the consciousness of
his subjects. Schouten was evidently impressed by the magnificence of
kathin bok and kathin nam, the solemn ritual of the King travelling by
land and water to distribute yellow robes to monks. He estimated that
15,000 to 16,000 people on elephant, horse, and foot accompanied the
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 85

King on the kathin bok procession; and around 25,000 to 26,000 on

boats in the kathin nam procession, besides ‘an infinite number of People,
who reverence and adore their King in his passage, with bended heads and
folded hands’. (Failing to do so would have cost them their lives.) It is
striking how much manpower was absorbed at each ceremony from the
total population of Ayutthaya of about 200,000.90
In October 1636, the Dutch were invited to attend the annual merit-
making ceremony at Wat Mahathat—also one of the few occasions on
which the King appeared in public. To observe the royal procession from
the royal palace to the said temple, about forty VOC men were given a
convenient place at the corner of the ‘biggest’ intersection in the city,
where they were joined by Mukhtar Beg, who had returned on a second
mission, and by other prominent Moors. The Siamese King not only used
court ceremonial to demonstrate his own power, but also to show magna-
nimity to his guests. Schouten reported that King Prasatthong, on ele-
phant back and displaying a friendly countenance, had his elephant stop
for a short while at the spot where the VOC men were sitting and per-
forming the reverence to him in the Siamese way, while he watched them
‘curiously’. In this kind of encounter, the Dutch must have felt their spe-
cial position in Thai society. This was enhanced even more because as
(foreign) guests of the State they were allowed to look at the King—which
was strictly prohibited for the indigenous subjects. Adding to their sense
of exuberance was the fact that the sword, which the Opperhoofd had pre-
sented to the King as a gift from the Prince of Orange, was now borne
along by a courtier walking in front of the King’s elephant. Schouten indi-
cated that these gestures were signs of special favour to the Dutch nation.91
In August 1637, the Siamese court again held a ceremony at Wat
Mahathat. Van Vliet reported that although King Prasatthong was not
going to attend it, he had ordered some Moor merchants to decorate the
booths in the vestibule of the temple with costly cloth and other magnif-
icent ornaments. The shopkeepers who came from the neighbourhood
were also told to display their most precious goods (unfortunately, there
is no indication of what they were). According to the Phrakhlang, the
presence of the Dutch and the most prominent Moors in the city was
required as part of the display of the plenitude and splendour of Siam.
This was meant to impress the Ambassador from Pegu who was invited
to attend this event. The court also borrowed some ‘curiosities’ (again,
unnamed in the report) from the Dutch to display at the temple.
Although Van Vliet had first given a not very enthusiastic answer to the
invitation, he, his assistants, and some sailors attended the ceremony in
their best attire. Van Vliet described the appearance of the Peguan
Ambassador at the temple and (his opinion of ) the reaction of the
Siamese courtiers:
86 CHAPTER THREE

[T]he Ambassador and his suite came in piously, they went with folded
hands around the temple a few times, at different times [they] knelt down in
front of the idols [that is Buddha images], offering some flowers, little paper
flags, and other bizarre stuff. After they had finished their worship, the
Peguan envoy, together with his closest nobleman, was led to the shop of
Sediamet [a prominent Moor] by the Siamese guides (who were two miser-
able haughty persons) who showed him Siamese splendour, which was dis-
played in the honour of the King (at the cost of the foreigners). We were also
shown a place in that shop. This Ambassador and his men appeared to be
much [more] polite, than the Siamese guides were. They [the Siamese
guides] were penniless noblemen, full of arrogance in their heart but little
money in their purse. Their eyes were greedy and wanted to have everything.
… After we had been seated beside these miserable people for a while and
secretly observed their haughtiness with disgust, we bade the Moors farewell
without having talked to these high officials or them speaking to us.92
Van Vliet’s depiction of the ‘greedy’ and ‘arrogant’ Siamese as opposed to
the ceremony-conscious and humble Peguans fits in well with his general
perception of the ‘avaricious’ court of Ayutthaya and its King who owed
(part of ) his splendour to exploiting foreigners. Foreigners were often
asked to make a social contribution to support court activities, such as a
merit-making event as in this case, the renovation of temples and many
more such events. Here was a clear difference of view between Van Vliet
and Schouten. The latter usually portrayed State ceremony and festivities
in Siam as an opportunity for the court to display its goodwill towards
foreigners. Even so, Van Vliet’s account tells us that foreign elements,
materials, and persons, were a source of Ayutthaya’s court splendour.
In August 1637, the VOC men were again invited to participate in the
trip to worship at several temples around Ayutthaya. At first, they excused
themselves, claiming that the act of worshipping idols contradicted their
belief. Their objections soon vanished when the Phrakhlang gave the prag-
matic reason that their participation would be ‘for the satisfaction of the
King and not the Siamese god’. Their consciences apparently clear, Van
Vliet and about thirty Dutchmen joined the excursion. They first assem-
bled at the Phrakhlang’s residence, where the cosmopolitan character of
Ayutthaya was on full view. There various important officials were wait-
ing, such as Okya Yommarat and Okphra Chula, some prominent Moors,
especially the said Sediamet and Radje Ebrehem, and the Makassarese
captains (‘nachodas’), besides important figures from the Malay and
Portuguese communities. Yet, Van Vliet emphasized that he was invited
to sit next to the Phrakhlang. The Minister told the Opperhoofd that he
had prepared four of his best horses for Van Vliet, his deputy Van Tzum,
and the two Moors, to show that the Dutch were among the foreigners
whom he esteemed most—which without doubt included the Moors. At
the same time, he asked the Dutch to co-operate by walking in a proper
order so that he could constantly keep an eye on them. When they were
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 87

entering their first destination, Wat Mahathat, the Minister allowed all
the Dutchmen to go in and gave them seats as good as those given to
Sediamet and Radje Ebrehem. After all, a person’s position at a court
ceremony was important as it revealed the status of the person or the
community which he represented in the eyes of the court. The Dutch
themselves often used the Portuguese as a point of reference for their self-
positioning. In the aftermath of the fall of Malacca, Van Vliet pointed out
that the Dutch were allotted better seats than the Portuguese at a court
celebration.93
Van Vliet described Wat Mahathat as ‘the most beautiful and famous
temple in the whole kingdom’.
The tower [prang] of the temple suddenly broke down in the year 1632,
about August, without being influenced by the weather condition. That was
regarded as an omen but the Brahmans and astrologers did not want to
reveal their prediction. Since then the said tower was, by the command of
the King, rebuilt and was almost complete in 1633, at the height of 200 feet,
[but] the whole (which was nicely woven with bamboos and rather strong)
surprisingly collapsed again, like in the previous year. However, the work was
resumed and completed very beautifully. The whole tower from top to bot-
tom was covered with lead and gilded. Buried in this were many gold and
silver [Buddha] statues. And as we heard, so many treasures were buried here
(consisting of gold nuggets, coined silver, precious stones and jewels) that if
the Siamese Kingdom should be destroyed, this treasure could be spent to
rebuild the kingdom.94

This description refers to the ancient Thai practice of hoarding precious

objects in Buddha statues and the fabric of temples. Van Vliet wrote else-
where that the Siamese used ‘many dead guards’—hence human sacri-
fice—to protect the hoarded assets, but he also accused King Prasatthong
of plundering these secret chambers himself.95
Having shown the depth of his knowledge of the history of the place,
Van Vliet also described the architecture of the temple and the ritual tak-
ing place around it.
The temple is skilfully and curiously built but to relate all the details would
require a separate description. The gallery is ornamented with more than
800-900 copper and stone statues, of which some are extraordinary high and
the smallest are three feet high. All statues are from the motionless heads to
the immovable feet nicely gilded. Apart from that, there are so many small
statues that they are almost countless and are put around the big [statues].
The Phrakhlang draped the cloth around the neck and chest of all the big
statues according to the Siamese custom.96

The Phrakhlang repeated the same procedure at three other famous tem-
ples, which were also skilfully built and superbly decorated. Although Van
Vliet enthusiastically described the splendour of these temples, he
thought:
88 CHAPTER THREE

[A] considerable sum is consumed pointlessly in this ridiculous (in our eyes)
offering. But these lost heathens are so eager and blind in their superstition
that they fancy that their prosperity will arise from that offering. In this way,
Siam is like a bottomless vessel and will remain so because all the wealth is
spent (by the King as well as the noblemen, the rich and the common
people) on building and repairing the temples, towers, pyramids and offer-
ing to the idols.97

Apparently, although Van Vliet’s interest in what he observed during the

ceremony was genuine, his mindset remained profit-oriented. His opin-
ion echoed the views of his predecessor. Although Van Nijenrode was
rather impressed by the religious tolerance of the Siamese, he, too, was
disturbed that the Siamese ‘waste great sums of money and copious means
on their gods, shrines and temples’, which was yet ‘of little help to them’.98
Van Vliet could accept the reason for storing valuable objects in the tem-
ples because they were to be used in time of emergency, but the concept
of merit-making or investing resources in the next life was more difficult
to digest. Likewise, the Abbé De Choisy, who was a French diplomat to
Siam in 1685, saw no good in the way the Siamese Kings hoarded gold
and silver in their treasuries, instead of spending them, thereby allowing
them to circulate in the country’s economy.99
In 1639, as the year Chulasakkarat 1000 (the Lesser Era according to
the Thai-Buddhist concept) approached, the Siamese court was occupied
with attempts to prevent the arrival of an age of calamity which was
believed to begin in the last year of the millennium. King Prasatthong had
to solve the crisis by disguising the animal year: he symbolically erased the
actual last year of the millennium, khan (the Tiger), and replaced it with
kun (the Pig), which was the first year of the now ending millennium.
Consequently, the millennium never reached its end before starting anew.
The building and repairing of the temples and other acts of merit-mak-
ing were intensified during these last years of the 1630s.100 Some of the
ceremonies mentioned in the previous paragraphs were part of this attempt.
To mark the New Year and the new Chulasakkarat millennium, King
Prasatthong gave a three-day grand celebration which started on 16 April
1639 on the square of the outer court of the royal palace. Van Vliet did
not reveal to what extent he actually understood the purpose of the whole
thing: Prasatthong’s attempt to solve the millennium crisis. What cap-
tured his attention during the celebration was how people were treated.
He wrote proudly that he and Mukhtar Beg entered the palace immedi-
ately following the highest-ranking officials of the okya rank, such as
Wang, Phitsanulok, Phonlathep, Chakri, Sawankhalok, Kamphaengphet,
Sukhothai, and Kalahom. The lower-ranking khunnang even followed
behind him. Van Vliet did not mention the presence of the leading Moor
merchants. Although their masters were the equal of the King of Siam,
 LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF RITUAL 89

the envoys from Lansang and Pegu had to crawl across the whole square,
which was about two hundred paces long, while performing manifold
customary homages to the King on their way. The fact that the Dutch and
the Bengali did not need to do so indicates that different conventions
were applied to different groups of foreigners at the Siamese court.
The participants were divided and placed behind the two leading offi-
cials, Chakri and Kalahom. The Dutchman and the Bengalis were seated
at the very end of the tent of Okya Chakri. As Schouten had been on an
earlier occasion, Van Vliet was amazed by the fact that the whole gather-
ing offered obeisance to King Prasatthong in such a silence that ‘we (after
the instruments paused), among so many thousands of people, heard
[only] the birds above our head sing—a thing that seems to be a wonder
but [was] very real’. Also, Okya Chakri and Okya Kalahom, two of the
greatest grandees in the kingdom, remained immobile throughout, with
folded hands and body bowed, although they were sitting so far away
from the King that they were actually out of his sight. The Opperhoofd
thought that this indicated their subjection to or fear of the King. The
guests were entertained with various spectacles: acrobatics, dancing,
wrestling, fencing, horse-riding, fighting between mounted horsemen
and elephants, and duels between elephants.101
Although the VOC men considered a diplomatic reception a necessary
part of court ritual, they regarded other Siamese ceremonies and festivi-
ties with mixed feelings, fluctuating between fascination and fault-find-
ing. In particular, they may have disapproved of such occasions which
served the purposes of a religion other than their own, in this case
Buddhism. Both Schouten and Van Vliet implied that they understood
that the intention of ceremonies like kathin bok and kathin nam was to
enhance the good fortune of the King and his realm; however, it did not
mean that they accepted them as meaningful ways of achieving that
goal.102 Nevertheless, the Dutch reconciled themselves with whatever cul-
turally and religiously motivated objections they may have felt by enter-
taining the pragmatic idea that their participation was important since it
would earn them the King’s favour. When the Phrakhlang asked for a
Dutch contribution to the repair of Wat Phra Si Sanphet, Van Vliet
informed him that the religion of the Siamese was different from his own
and that the Dutch worshipped neither the (Buddhist) temples nor the
gods (Buddha) but that, nevertheless, they would place themselves at the
service of the King and the Minister.103 Sitting side-by-side in a Buddhist
temple revealed that both the Christian VOC men and the Muslim Moor
merchants did indeed feel that in order to reciprocate the goodwill of the
Siamese King and to maintain his favour they should set aside their own
convictions and emotions. In their turn, the Siamese certainly saw
through this and benefited from it.
90 CHAPTER THREE

Conclusion

The available accounts by different Dutch observers show that they did
not always perceive the same situation in the same way. For instance,
although Schouten and De Roij were impressed by the magnificence of
the Siamese diplomatic receptions, the former saw the audience with the
Siamese King as two hours of honour, the latter believed he had wasted
two hours in exhaustion. However, it can be said that the Company men
in general spoke the language of Ayutthaya ritual fairly ably, although
they often did not understand or agree with the purposes of the ceremo-
nial. Certainly, the language of diplomacy was always flowery, but the
Dutch merchants were ready to avail themselves of this and other existing
local conventions. They were constantly trying to discover their status in
the eyes of the Siamese court by reading the signs of favour towards them
which were expressed in each court event; avidly comparing these with
how other foreigners were treated. Nevertheless, the Dutch were some-
times disappointed that what they understood to be the correct protocol
was not followed. After all, everything, or most things, in Siam was in the
power of its King to do, including altering some ritual to suit practical
considerations.
Van Diemen’s insensitive treatment of the Siamese court in the second
half of the 1630s and the omission of the role of the ‘King of Holland’ in
Dutch-Siamese diplomatic contacts were shaped by the need of Batavia to
strengthen its political status in Asia and to have control over its own
diplomatic affairs. In so doing, Batavia subordinated the necessity of the
Siamese King who needed diplomatic prestige for ‘domestic consump-
tion’ as much as for foreign relations. These changes and the resulting
conflicts mostly affected the VOC men in Siam, who were caught
between attempts to defend the Company interests and trying to comply
with the local rules for their own survival.
 CHAPTER FOUR

LEARNING SIAM’S POLITICS:

THE CASE OF KING PRASATTHONG

Introduction

As we have seen, the VOC men used court ritual as a tool to recognize
and measure the positions of their own and of other foreigners at the
court of Ayutthaya. Equally important, in order to understand how the
Siamese court functioned and how they should behave in interaction with
its members, the Dutch needed to comprehend the interpersonal rela-
tions within the court. In this learning process, the Dutch merchants not
only learnt about Siamese kingship and court institutions, they also pur-
sued their quest for knowledge about the law, history, and style of admin-
istration of the kingdom in order to make sense of this environment in
which they were determined to survive.
Although the Dutch court watchers of the first half of the seventeenth
century were wont to describe the Kings of Siam as possessing absolute
power, they also knew, often from their direct experience, that the control
of a monarch was not always absolute. The King’s authority was almost
constantly challenged by external and internal elements, openly and
furtively. King Prasatthong’s rise to power and his struggle to maintain it,
which was not entirely a unique case for Ayutthaya’s history, significantly
gave the Dutch a basic understanding of the political culture and reality
of the Siamese court.

Theorizing Absolute Rule

Empirically, the Dutch felt the full impact of the pomp and circumstance
created in an unceasing attempt to elevate the ruler above the rest of
society. Van Nijenrode, the first VOC employee to write about Siamese
kingship, mentioned that the King was addressed as ‘Lord of lords and
King of kings’. Besides remarking that ‘the king lives happily in all imag-
inable worldly pleasures’, Schouten regarded ‘this reverence better becom-
ing a celestial deity, then an earthly Majesty’. The even deeper impression
the King’s power made on his subjects did by no means escape the keen
eyes of the Dutch. Van Vliet affirmed his predecessor’s observation,
although such treatment was evidently not to his liking. The titles of the
92 CHAPTER FOUR

Siamese King were ‘very bombastic and more than [deserved by a]

human’; indeed, people did not even dare to mention his name aloud.
Van Vliet continued: ‘[W]hen the king passes, all the people along the
roads kneel down, fold their hands, and bend their heads to the ground.
This way of greeting comes nearer to superstitious idolatry than to pay-
ing reverence to a king.’ The sanctity of this ruler even crept into the
minds of his people: ‘Also one hardly dares to carry a wicked intention in
his mind, as they [the Siamese] have the idea (although this is absurd) that
there is a Divine Majesty [living] in the king and they for that reason
ought not to do wrong [to the king].’1
To introduce his ‘Description of Siam’, Schouten ‘theorized’ the
absolute power of the Siamese King as follows:
The Soveraignty and Government of Siam is in the King, a Prince of a Noble
and ancient family, who hath been in possession of this Kingdom, and the
neighbouring Provinces, many hundreds of years; this Prince is absolute in
his Dominions, disposing of War and Peace, Alliances, Justice, Pardons and
Remissions’. He maketh Laws without any advise or consent of his Council,
or Lords, his will being the rule he walks by, unlesse his goodnesse descend
sometimes to counsel with his Mandoryns, them of his Council; these some-
times deliberate upon his Majesties propositions, and present their result to
him by way of humble supplication, which he confirms, changes or rejects,
as he thinks good. He disposes Soveraignty of all the Dignities and great
Offices of his Kingdom, without respect of persons, noble or otherwise,
(except some of the Antientest and greatest Families) to such as have or may
serve him well, whom he againe deprives of their honours for small faults; so
that they are all his Slaves and Vassals, which the Great ones esteem an hon-
our, and put in their titles. The King thus soveraignly disposing of all things,
doth notwithstanding nothing without some appearance of reason, and con-
formity to the Laws of the Kingdom, which however antient, he by his
usurped prerogative and power, doth interpret and bow to his Arbitrary will
and pleasure.2

Although Schouten and Van Vliet agreed upon the central position of the
King in Siamese society and his arbitrary power, their accounts differed
on one issue. While Schouten seemed to consider it a matter of fact that
the King of Siam acted arbitrarily, Van Vliet did not see Siamese kingship
as innately despotic but as developing into absolutism. For a start, he
ascribed the role of the original creator of law and the founder of religion
to the first King of Siam. Besides considering that Siam was ‘an old king-
dom, since it is provided with good laws and policies’, he believed,
‘according to the written laws His Majesty had to consult the imperial
council, and where His Majesty used bad judgement, partiality, or exag-
geration, the mandarins had the power to check him’. Hence, Van Vliet
blamed the deterioration of the kingdom on the violation of the original
rules by ‘the later kings’.
 LEARNING SIAM’S POLITICS 93

By the encroachment of many prerogatives the power of the kings became

absolute, the laws were bent according to their will and were changed and
corrupted to their advantage and pleasure.3
Van Vliet reasoned people believed that, by giving more power and priv-
ileges to their King, the other nations would fear Siam more. The prob-
lem lay in the fact, as it turned out, that no one any longer dared, for fear
of his own life, to contradict the King’s decision. So a situation ensued, in
which ‘[t]he king was not there for the good of his community, but that
the whole country and the people were for his pleasure alone’. One exam-
ple was the introduction of new rules regarding taxation and the inheri-
tance law by one of the ‘later kings’, Ekathotsarot, which benefited the
Crown and burdened the commoners most.4 This was the same line of
argument that had been followed by the Dutch in opposing King Philip
II of Spain during the 1570s and 1580s.
Nevertheless, opinions regarding the ‘later kings’, Songtham and
Prasatthong to be exact, differed in the sense that the Dutch tended to
idealize the former. Van Nijenrode, who knew King Songtham, argued
that although his subjects were slaves to the King, they lived peacefully
under his rule. That the Dutch were rather fond of Songtham was the
result of the privileges and protection, especially during the 1624 inci-
dent, he gave them.5 Conversely, Prasatthong’s attempts to curtail the
VOC privileges in Siam gradually reduced the self-confidence of the
Dutch in their position as the most favoured nation of the King of Siam.
At the same time, his behaviour in general only confirmed their notion of
the absolute power of the Siamese ruler to a mounting degree. As we shall
see in the following pages, arbitrary use of power and the urge to exert
control were two sides of the same coin when Prasatthong exercised his
absolute power.
Van Vliet stigmatized King Prasatthong as the epitome of a distorter of
Siamese law. With the seizure of the throne and the killing of the rightful
heirs, he also had ‘usurped [the] supreme power’ of the Government and
he did not ‘allow anybody [an official] to perform his duty according to
the written laws’.6 In March 1636, a big ‘cabinet reshuffle’ took place
among the officials of the highest okya rank. Van Vliet noted that this
important change occurred partly as the consequence of the ‘unmerited’
execution of the King’s former co-conspirator Okya Phitsanulok, and
partly in consequence of his generally mistrustful nature. Van Vliet wrote,
using Biblical figures to make his superiors understand the unfamiliar
situation:
Being the intruding Absalom and no anointed Solomon, he [Prasatthong]
allows no one to settle in one’s position. He will give the one who holds an
office today another [office] tomorrow. At a certain point, he will throw the
one who is sitting in the highest position under everyone’s feet.7
94 CHAPTER FOUR

In 1638, Van Vliet wrote that the two former Phrakhlang (one of whom
became Okya Kalahom who helped the Portuguese embassy in 1639) had
been removed from their position because King Prasatthong was ‘jealous’
that they were popular because of their helpfulness towards foreigners.
Another official, who was hostile towards the Dutch, was appointed to
this important position instead, not only because he was the brother of
one of the royal consorts but also for political considerations. Van Vliet
thought this Phrakhlang actually was as vigilant as a man in his office
should be; however, he was also a lascivious man who knew well that no
one dared to complain about his laziness and incompetence because of his
connection to the royal family. The Dutch believed, too, that, despite
knowing of this official’s failure to perform his duty, sometimes even to
complete the King’s business, Prasatthong still remained loyal to this
Phrakhlang because he was not as popular as his two predecessors. Van
Vliet explained that the King himself had risen from the ranks of the offi-
cials; therefore, he was careful not to allow any of his men to gather sup-
porters.8
In 1638, when King Prasatthong made another reshuffle of the admin-
istration, Van Vliet commented that the ruler did so ‘without consulting
anyone’.9 A similar remark had been made earlier by Ambassador De Roij,
who had criticized Prasatthong for being a ‘tyrant’ because he declared his
intention to attack Patani and named the generals ‘without consulting
anyone’.10 It was obvious that these citizens of the Dutch Republic and
employees of the Dutch Company would almost naturally dislike the idea
of one man making a political decision alone. Because of his conviction
that the written laws of Siam compelled its King to consult his council,
Van Vliet had every reason to accuse Prasatthong of being arbitrary. But
for the Ayutthayan court, it was common practice that an official be
employed for a task at the King’s whim rather than on account of his own
expertise. (The obvious exceptions were for example the Krom Tha Khwa
and Krom Tha Sai offices, which required particular expertise and ethnic
background.)
Van Vliet was convinced that King Naresuan was the first ruler to make
the khunnang approach him crawling and lie prone with their faces avert-
ed before a Siamese King. But King Prasatthong was ‘the first who made
the mandarins so slavish that they come to court every single day and are
allowed to visit each other in their houses or sequestered places but are
not permitted to speak to one another except in a public meeting place’.
The monarch would even send his doctor to visit those who excused
themselves from routine attendance by pleading illness. Such control also
extended to the families of the officials. The wives of the high-ranking
khunnang were obliged to spend at least half of every week in the court of
the queen(s).11 This royal policy apparently had an effect on the interac-
 LEARNING SIAM’S POLITICS 95

tions between the khunnang and foreigners, as the Crown was also afraid
of a multi-ethnic conspiracy. In 1637, when the Dutch tried to contact
the outgoing Phrakhlang, he refused to give them an audience, being
afraid of being suspected of any hint of conspiracy. Only later did he agree
to talk with the Dutch at a temple feast—a public place. Once, the
Chinese Syahbandar, Okphra Thongsüe, and some court interpreters
were imprisoned because, against the rule, the official had allowed the
Dutch to remain at his residence late into the evening, and the inter-
preters had not prevented this.12
Prasatthong’s efforts to control the foreigners did not escape the atten-
tion of the Dutch, although the court of Siam did not discriminate
against foreigners, especially foreign merchants, who contributed to its
economy. One way to integrate and keep control of them—as manpow-
er and for their assets—was to include them in the Siamese administra-
tive hierarchy. Shortly after Malacca had fallen into VOC hands, the
newly appointed Dutch Governor asked his colleagues in Siam to con-
tribute to the new colony by encouraging ‘wealthy merchants’ in
Ayutthaya to pursue their business in Malacca. In reply, Van Vliet said
that he believed that he could not find any wealthy Malays or Chinese in
Siam who were ready to take a chance because
all and everyone, whether natives or residents, who possess a little esteem or
reasonable resource, are made noble by the King, revered with court titles or
marks of honour, and thus so firmly bound to the Siamese court that when
they die the Majesty declares himself to be the universal heir of the assets
they left behind, which makes a rich king but a poor folk. The destitute
Chinese and Malays can, we think, serve neither the Company nor Your
Honour [Governor of Malacca] because their [request for] departure will be
turned down, because His Majesty much prefers the abundance of popula-
tion and does not tolerate it when someone leaves his country (which he
esteems above all other lands in the world). The Siamese do not travel from
their land, except when they are sent out on ships on a short journey or by
the king somewhere. But to choose a domicile somewhere else outside the
country will never be permitted, also because the common people are most-
ly bondmen, or at least so slavishly restricted to their masters that, without
the knowledge of the court, they are hardly allowed to leave the city for a
mile. And with the Peguans, it is even worse, because they are considered
lowlier than the Siamese. So that, in conclusion, Your Honour can expect
nothing from here.13

Contest from Within: The Conflicts of Succession

Whereas none of the surviving indigenous sources sets out rules of succes-
sion in Ayutthaya clearly, the Dutch accounts themselves offer informa-
tion which differs from one another. On the basis of his experience in
Siam in the 1610s and 1620s, Van Nijenrode stated that the king’s eldest
96 CHAPTER FOUR

son had the pre-eminent right to succeed over all other candidates, pro-
vided he was older than fifteen years. If this prince was younger, the king’s
eldest surviving brother would succeed to the throne. A decade later,
Schouten and Van Vliet gave a different opinion: they wrote that the right
of succession always went to the king’s eldest surviving brother.14 No mat-
ter whether were they right or wrong, nurturing these sorts of views, King
Prasatthong’s usurpation was an irregularity which challenged the Dutch
observers to investigate.
Van Vliet devoted one of his works, ‘Historical Account of King
Prasatthong’, written in Ayutthaya in December 1640, to the story of the
ruler’s rise to power. Although Van Vliet claimed to have collected the
information during the time he spent there, I suspect that he once again
picked up what Schouten had begun. The factual content of his
‘Description of Siam’ is also similar to Schouten’s. Schouten departed
from Ayutthaya at the end of January 1629 and therefore did not witness
the power struggles which followed King Songtham’s death in that year.
However, having known many who were to be involved in these conflicts,
he did his best to follow the development of the situation. Later, in
December 1639, on his return voyage from the Netherlands to Asia, on
board he composed a short report on those violent conflicts of succession
and especially the usurpation of Prasatthong, entitled ‘The Story of the
Unlawful, Cunning and Violent Succession of the Kings of Siam’.15
Schouten did not explain the purpose of this report. Possibly, he wanted
to draw his superiors’ attention to his return to their service by impress-
ing them with his knowledge, thereby furthering his career in Batavia. He
may have thought that it was important to be able to provide the VOC
with information about the reigning King, Prasatthong. After all,
Schouten and Van Vliet, who served in Siam around the same time and
had been colleagues for many years, were likely to share the same source
of information. Broadly speaking, the story-lines of their pieces agree with
each other. Yet, Van Vliet gave far more details and flavoured his report
with ‘European dramatic conventions’ of his time.16 Since the succession
conflicts of 1629 have been thoroughly studied by Dhiravat in his doc-
toral thesis, in the following paragraphs I shall attempt to show only what
the Dutch understood to be the nature of the power struggle in Siam.17
Schouten began his disquisition by observing that, for centuries, Siam
and the nations adjacent to it had been ruled by ‘successive Siamese
Kings’, and that ‘it happens with such power, respect and honour, as [are
given] to only a few rulers on earth’.18 Problems arose when King
Songtham, a ‘very good, virtuous, and devout legitimate ruler’, who had
ruled the kingdom in peace and prosperity for almost twenty years, died
and left several contenders for the throne—one brother and ‘five’ young
sons. Schouten and Van Vliet agreed that the late King’s brother, Phra
 LEARNING SIAM’S POLITICS 97

Srisin, should have been the lawful heir. Passing him over, King
Songtham had decided to name his eldest son, Chetthathirat (eighteen
years old according to Schouten and fifteen according to Van Vliet), his
successor out of ‘fatherly love’ and at the ‘instigation’ of his first cousin
Okya Si Worawong (head of the King’s household), the future King
Prasatthong. Chetthathirat fared better than his uncle because, Van Vliet
says, he received assistance from the influential Okya who helped him to
secure support from Okya Senaphimuk (Yamada Nagamasa)19, the com-
mander of the Japanese guards in royal service, who brought his men to
join some thousand Siamese under Si Worawong’s command. Well aware
of what was afoot, Okya Si Worawong made sure that he controlled the
communications to and from the dying King Songtham until his death.20
Under these circumstances, Chetthathirat came to the throne by what
Schouten labelled an ‘unlawful succession’.21 Van Vliet gives more details
of what happened next. At first, all the officials accepted the new ruler,
‘some of them by inclination, others out of fear of his powerful support-
ers and of the soldiers that the Minister [Si Worawong] had brought into
the palace’. Despite the apparent acquiescence, a purge began immediate-
ly. Many prominent officials who disagreed with the succession, or had
somehow antagonized Si Worawong, were executed, banished, or impris-
oned, and replaced by his followers. The victims of the purge included
three of the ‘most powerful, wealthiest, and wisest’ grandees: Okya
Kalahom, Okphra Thainam, and Okluang Thamtrailok. They were killed
not only because of their opposition to Si Worawong but also because of
‘their prominence and wealth’. Some khunnang were fortunate enough to
be pardoned by the young King. At his own request, Okya Si Worawong
took the office of Kalahom, which allowed him to have command of the
elephant department (which had a large number of men in its service),
and had his brother succeed him in his former position. Furthermore, the
Okya managed to persuade Chetthathirat to give the confiscated estates of
the victims of the purge to those officials, ‘who were dependent more on
that Minister [Si Worawong] than on His Majesty’.22
Disappointed and in fear of his own life, Phra Sisin entered the monk-
hood which was supposed to give him the ecclesiastical protection that a
secular ruler might not violate a person dressed in a monk’s robes.23
Senaphimuk, however, succeeded in deceiving the Prince into taking off
his yellow robe and entering the royal palace in secular attire. Upon the
malevolent advice of the new Okya Kalahom, the King decided to send
his uncle into exile with the intention of taking his life later. In
Phetchaburi, Phra Sisin was placed in a subterranean pit and left to starve
to death. He was rescued from such a wretched end by some sympathet-
ic monks and officials loyal to him. Having gathered many followers and
an army of 20,000 men, he declared himself King of Siam. This rebellion
98 CHAPTER FOUR

was soon defeated by the stronger royal troops. Phra Sisin was captured
and executed in the traditional way, as Schouten rightly understood,
reserved only for members of the royal family, namely being battered to
death with a sandalwood club so that no royal blood should be shed.24
Having eliminated his uncle mostly with Kalahom’s help, King
Chetthathirat became irresponsible, dissolute, and negligent so that
everything was left to be decided by the council and especially by his
mentor. The young King was and did ‘all of which served to alienate the
affection of the people around him, although no one dared to say so
openly’.25 Whereas Schouten asserted that Okya Kalahom performed his
duty diligently and that many believed in his loyalty, Van Vliet was con-
vinced that the grandee was only paving his way to power. He was increas-
ing his esteem and supporters among the khunnang by the tried and test-
ed means of redistributing offices and presents.
While Kalahom’s enemies, including the Queen Mother, planted sus-
picion in the King’s mind, the Okya’s popularity became unbearable, bla-
tantly displayed when so many officials thronged to attend the cremation
of his father, which was arranged ‘with greater magnificence than had ever
been observed for a Mandarin’, and fewer people consequently showed up
at court on that day. King Chetthathirat would not tolerate such compe-
tition and now threatened to eliminate his mentor. The Okya expressed
his distress in front of the gathering of the officials; he said he was ready
to die but could not let his innocent followers suffer by this unfair deci-
sion of the ‘tyrannical’ King.26 The fear of persecution, which Kalahom
brilliantly conjured up, united the officials and they decided to rebel
against the young monarch. With his mother, Chetthathirat now suffered
the same cruel death that he had ordered for his uncle. Purges and the
redistribution of the victim’s assets and offices were repeated.
Chetthathirat’s twelve-year-old brother was crowned King Athityawong.
Again, Okya Kalahom assumed control of the affairs of state. Very soon
the council of officials decided to eliminate the child-king and invite their
own leader to ascend the throne as King Prasatthong. Although Van Vliet
thought that Athityawong was ‘unjustly sentenced to death’, he defended
the decision of the conspirators by quoting a Machiavellian principle:
It is better, said Machiavelli, that the wisdom and authority of a single Prince
should decide all matters of state, and that he should be a speaking law-
maker. The Siamese Mandarins and Councillors, too, were of the view that
for the maintenance of the commonwealth it was preferable to do away with
the young and incompetent King and to elect the Regent [Okya Kalahom]
as King for reason of his manifest wisdom and prudence.27
For the new King, the most urgent task was to entrench the new dynasty.
Prasatthong lost no time in making his brother the Wangna Prince or the
Uparat—the highest-ranking chao after the King himself.28 ‘In order to
 LEARNING SIAM’S POLITICS 99

strengthen his claim to the throne’, Prasatthong also took Songtham’s eld-
est daughter as his wife. He had the mother of King Athityawong, sup-
posedly the most beautiful woman in Siam, cut into two after she had
refused to become his consort. Van Vliet also added the story of the
unbearable tortures and cruel executions of those who dared to mourn the
death of the young Kings and their mothers. The extreme cruelty gener-
ated such fear that no one dared to express any kind of lamentation.29
Then, Prasatthong managed to send away his powerful ally, the Japanese
Senaphimuk, to govern Ligor and later to get rid of him by means of poi-
son. As a result, the Japanese guards rebelled but were defeated by the
royal troops. This had a destructive effect on the Japanese community in
Ayutthaya, since the new King now ordered a surprise attack on its mem-
bers who were eventually forced to flee the city. In the course of his reign,
the Japanese would return and enter royal service but none of them was
ever to gain the same prominence as Senaphimuk, whose political influ-
ence was perceived as a threat and so brought about the downfall of his
people.30
On the way to consolidating his power, King Prasatthong stepped on
many dead bodies, but one death he was to mourn sincerely was that of
his most faithful helper, Okya Phitsanulok. Schouten and Van Vliet
seemed to have felt sympathy for this grandee who had served as
Phrakhlang during the previous reign and was undoubtedly familiar to the
Dutch.31 Van Vliet alleges that the Okya’s successful performance in the
conquest of ‘Lijcoon’ (Lampang) in 1632 aroused the jealousy of the
Wangna Prince. A conspiracy between the King’s brother, grandmother,
mother, and some ‘flatterers’ gradually managed to bring Okya
Phitsanulok into disfavour. Among other schemes, they had some for-
tune-tellers spread the prediction that, given his time of birth,
Phitsanulok possessed the political potency to pose a threat to the King.
In Van Vliet’s eyes, this was enough to prompt the ‘mistrustful’ ruler to
eliminate Phitsanulok in early 1636. It was Okya Yommarat, another
rival, who put the finishing touch to this conspiracy by making sure that
the execution of the grandee took place before King Prasatthong could
change his mind. Previously, the King had commanded Phitsanulok to
supervise the plundering of Yommarat’s house as punishment. Van Vliet
remarked that Prasatthong intentionally encouraged friction among his
officials—to prevent them from uniting against him.32
Schouten expressed his regret at the fall of the ‘honourable house’,
which revealed his sympathy with King Songtham’s family.33 Several
young sons of King Songtham had survived the initial attempts to elimi-
nate them at the intercession of various people, especially the women of
Prasatthong’s family.34 We must not forget that King Prasatthong not only
married some of Songtham’s womenfolk but both men were first cousins
100 CHAPTER FOUR

as well. Yet, as these boys grew older, they were perceived as a threat. At
least one of them did indeed pose a threat to the King, even though only
for a few hours. In December 1642, a teenage son of King Songtham,
known as the ‘Thasai Prince’, led two hundred men to seize the royal
palace and declared himself King of Ayutthaya. He failed and was killed
by Prasatthong’s superior force. In the following two years, the last male
members of King Songtham’s family were ultimately eliminated. Van
Tzum (1641-5), who succeeded Van Vliet, lamented that ‘whether it is
true or whether it is false, it is always thus, everyday of my stay here, in
past as well as in this newly-discovered treason, many people have been
burnt, roasted, … chopped up, and [suffered] other cruel deaths’.35 When
it was all said and done, the punishment of the losers had to be violent
because it was meant to be a public admonition. Without doubt, the
VOC men would not only have heard of but also have had to witness this
public terrorization when they went about their business in the city.
Schouten ended his account of King Prasatthong’s usurpation as fol-
lows:
And although all this clearly proves, [that] this king unlawfully came to the
throne by very cunning means and cruel murders and secured his unjustly
obtained state (according to barbaric custom) with no less cruelty, it is still
worthy of note that in matters of government and well-being of state, he is
a wise, prudent and moderate prince, who peacefully possesses his kingdom
in prosperity and affluence of the common, and, therefore, deserves an
immortal memory.

The evidence that this paragraph was copied almost word for word
by Van Vliet betrays that he had access to Schouten’s writing.36 At
various times Van Vliet had described King Prasatthong in his Company
reports and earlier works as a ‘tyrant’ and a ‘drunkard’, who at a certain
point turned into a ‘superstitious’ wreck.37 However, he added here that
the ruler was ‘neither tyrannical nor bloodthirsty, because the judgement
has to be made that His Majesty has not condemned anyone to death
other than for reasons of state and to secure his Kingdom’.38 Van Vliet
conveniently seems to have ignored that Prasatthong had threatened
to have the Dutchmen in Ayutthaya killed not only in 1636, but also a
mere few months before he wrote this piece—an experience which
Schouten had never had. He may have genuinely admired the King’s
decisions, since they corresponded to his own Machiavellian political
morality, which prioritized the interests of the State—a view which
Schouten may have shared with him.39 At the same time, he may have
found this episode in Thai history and Schouten’s account of it an inter-
esting piece to include in a text which was composed to address a
European audience used to and even greedy for tales of excessive prince-
ly power and, perhaps, expected them to be even more horrendous when
 LEARNING SIAM’S POLITICS 101

these stories were about the supposedly barbarian despots who ruled the
East.

Challenge from Outside: Vassal Rebellions

The Dutch were familiar with the problems of the ‘unstable’ relationships
between Siam and its vassals, since they were sometimes asked to assist
Ayutthaya in this matter. The vassal states resisted Thai suzerainty when-
ever they could, though most of the time only to re-submit later. Upon
his enthronement, King Prasatthong was immediately confronted with
the revolts in some vassal states, which made their suppression one of the
priorities in his efforts to consolidate his power. In 1632, King
Prasatthong organized his campaigns against the vassal rebellions, begin-
ning with the northern province of ‘Lijcoon’. According to Van Vliet, the
King himself led the army to the north in order to ‘frighten’—to give a
signal to—rebellious Patani in the south. Notwithstanding his success
there, Prasatthong expected to meet with a greater challenge in dealing
with Patani.
Among the important services Schouten performed for the Company
in Ayutthaya was his crisis management in the expedition of Siam against
Patani in 1634. The event and its outcome are adequately presented in
previous research and partly mentioned in a previous chapter;40 therefore,
a short account will suffice here. In that year, King Prasatthong asked for
naval assistance to bring Patani back under his suzerainty. Schouten tried
to ward off the request but was strongly pressured by the Siamese court
to acquiesce. Consequently, he went to Batavia to convince his superiors
why the Company should help Siam.
To explain why the Dutch decided to commit themselves to King
Prasatthong in this matter, previous research has emphasized the aspect of
commercial interest—a valid explanation, considering that trade had pri-
ority in the relations between the VOC and Siam. Besides expecting com-
mercial privileges from the Siamese ruler, Schouten also saw in this an
opportunity to defeat the Iberians in Siam once and for all, particularly
since Portuguese Malacca was supporting Patani. He hoped, too, that, as
a reward for the VOC’s contribution, its Opperhoofd or representative
would be allowed to attend the gathering of the council of officials. Again
a valid explanation, but I shall emphasize two other arguments proffered
by Schouten, which may not have corresponded to the interests of his
superiors in Batavia but represented his very own understanding of
Siamese kingship: these concerned Siam’s legitimate rule over Patani and
Dutch-Siamese diplomatic relations.41
As a starting point, Schouten emphasized the right the Siamese King
102 CHAPTER FOUR

had exercised over Patani for a very long time. The Malay Sultanate had
two obligations towards the King: to show him obeisance annually by
presenting the tributary flowers, and to aid him in war by sending its
troops. In return, as Patani’s protector, the King of Ayutthaya was obliged
to confirm as king or queen of Patani the person whom the council of the
Sultanate had chosen to succeed. This was the reflection of the broader
tradition in which the Emperor of China confirmed the enthronement of
the new king in the polities which recognized his suzerainty, including
Ayutthaya.
Schouten says that Patani had rebelled against Siam for no legitimate
reasons; this is perhaps to say that no violation of their mutual obliga-
tions, which he explained above, was committed on the Siamese side. He
thought that Queen Ungu had received bad advice from her First
Minister, Dato Besar, and had initiated the rebellion under the ‘pretext’
(which Patani took as its ‘legitimate reason’) that they refused to submit
and pay tribute to King Prasatthong because he had usurped the throne
and murdered the rightful heirs. The force from Patani also had attacked
Thai territories, Phatthalung and Ligor, and seized royal junks on their
way to Batavia. Therefore, Schouten deemed Prasatthong’s expedition
against Patani justified.
Diplomatic relations between the Siamese and the Dutch were not
confined to the pompous exchange of embassies and friendly words alone;
they sometimes had the effect of a treaty between States. The Siamese
court had reminded Schouten that the Princes of Orange and the
Governors-General had promised to help it fight its enemies.42 This cor-
responds to what Ten Brummelhuis asserts, namely that, between the
early modern Dutch and the Thai, formal international relations were
referred to from time to time.43 The Opperhoofd now warned his superi-
ors in Batavia that if the Dutch did not keep their promise, their ‘diplo-
matic credibility’ would be undermined.44
Unlike in his account of the conflicts of succession of 1629, in this case
Schouten did not question the legitimacy of King Prasatthong but accept-
ed his de facto rule. Certainly, as the representative of a trade organization,
he judged the legitimacy of a regime by its commercial potential and
political stability because any change could affect his business. Yet,
Schouten’s vision went beyond a purely mercantile rationale and includ-
ed the concept of interstate relations. He also explained the legitimacy of
Siamese kingship in terms of its rights to demand its vassal fulfil obliga-
tions and demand foreign diplomatic representatives give him what they
promised, out of respect for the sacredness of the diplomatic bond.
In the end, the High Government gave Schouten a few armed ships to
sail to Patani. When they arrived there, the Siamese troops had failed to
take the city and been recalled. Schouten decided to proceed to
 LEARNING SIAM’S POLITICS 103

Ayutthaya, bringing along some Patani captives who were to confirm to

the Siamese court that the Dutch had come to help, though too late. In
fact, the Dutch did not directly contribute to the re-submission of Patani.
Two years later, the Sultanate was forced to reconcile itself with Siam, for
fear of an attack from the ever expansionist Kingdom of Aceh.45 But in
1634, King Prasatthong generously rewarded the attempt by Batavia to
help by immediately receiving Schouten personally, lifting the barricade
around the VOC lodge in Ayutthaya, granting the Company an exclusive
right to export animal skins, and a good piece of land on which to build
a new lodge, as well as facilitating many other Dutch requests, including
that for the right to attend the council of officials. As a result of this
involvement, the Dutch substantially enhanced their prestige in Siam.
But their enjoyment of it was rather short-lived.

Daily Manipulation: The King’s Men

In 1634, Schouten gave Van Vliet, who was to take charge of the comp-
toir during his journey to Batavia, instructions. He inferred that the
decline of the Company’s status in Ayutthaya in the few years prior to his
directorship was caused by the clumsy inexperience of the resident
employees in the matters of ‘court management’. In order to restore the
old good reputation of the Dutch nation and the former trade privileges,
he strongly recommended that his assistant should treat not only the King
but also his officials discretely.46 Although, ultimately the Dutch depend-
ed on the King’s favour, it was indeed negotiating and arranging with his
servants which consumed most of their time, eating it up even more than
attending court events.
Being a foreign trade organization, the VOC had to deal regularly with
the men of the Phrakhlang Ministry. These officials could obstruct the
core business of the VOC—buying and selling goods, loading and dis-
patching Company ships from Ayutthaya, all of which required the
court’s permission—by delaying or even silencing Dutch requests. As we
have seen, even in the ceremonial receptions of embassies in the presence
of the King, the officials could manipulate the situation because the
Dutch and other foreigners were disadvantaged by the linguistic barrier
and the intricate protocol governing the event. The VOC and all other
foreign merchants were especially dependent on the favour, schedule, and
even fate of the Phrakhlang Minister; without his authorization, trade
could not take place. As a custom, the outgoing Opperhoofd brought
some gifts to the Phrakhlang and the King’s favourites, when he intro-
duced his successor.47 In 1634, when the Phrakhlang was released from a
short spell of imprisonment, the Company men went to congratulate him
104 CHAPTER FOUR

with gifts, although Schouten admitted that they hated him bitterly.48
On a daily basis, the Dutch came into contact, directly and indirectly,
with many more officials outside the Phrakhlang Ministry for many other
reasons besides trade. A few days after the execution of the officials who
had failed in the 1634 expedition against Patani, Schouten and Van Vliet
were invited to a celebration prepared by Okkhun Phiphat at a temple
where they had the opportunity to meet other officials ‘publicly’ and dis-
cuss the unsuccessful campaign.49 Such social events certainly served to
facilitate the exchange of information and consequently were important
to political and trade relations between the Thai and the Dutch.
Importantly, the khunnang did not always limit their actions to the duty
assigned to them. Schouten mentioned that the VOC exchanged silver
into local money with such officials as the Justice Minister and the
Governor of Nakhon Ratchasima.50 In 1634, Dutch sailors quarrelled
with some slaves of Okya Phitsanulok, which resulted in the death of one
slave. Schouten reacted immediately by seeking to deal with the slave-
owner personally in order to keep the matter from the King’s knowledge.
Although both parties had seemed to reach a compromise, the Okya still
reported the case to the monarch. Fortunately for the Dutch, King
Prasatthong valued his friendship with the Company more highly than
Phitsanulok’s loss. After providing the Siamese with some compensation,
the Dutch were able to interrogate their own men and send them back to
Batavia.51
The Dutch attitudes towards Siamese officials were overwhelmingly
negative. To Van Vliet, the khunnang were ‘avaricious’ exploiters, like the
King himself, ‘very jealous of each other’, ‘political intriguers’, and ‘arro-
gant’.52 Their households mirror the situation at the court itself.
Yes, every one of them wants to be served, honoured, and feared as if he were
a worldly god. They usually practice great authority over those who are in
their houses and over their slaves. … they do not allow themselves to be
addressed otherwise than with bent body, folded hands, and with ceremoni-
ous praisings. … In their houses and on the streets the mandarins are hon-
oured like small kings among their subjects, but coming to court they are
only slaves.53

As far as the Dutch were concerned, the Siamese administration was

moved or unmoved by the greed, lethargy, and abuse of power of its
members. Schouten asked his colleagues to direct the Company’s business
with patience and be tolerant of the ‘innate laziness’ and ‘unchanging cus-
tom’ of the Siamese nation.54 Van Vliet saw himself locked in a struggle
against the ‘unreliable course of the world and inconstancy’, which he
perceived to be the nature of the Siamese court.55
When VOC Commissioner Antonij Caen came to Ayutthaya in 1632,
the aim of his mission was to mediate in the Siamese-Patani conflict,
 LEARNING SIAM’S POLITICS 105

which was troubling the Company trade around the Sultanate, and pur-
chase goods, especially rice. Although he was personally received by King
Prasatthong, the conflict clearly was beyond the Company’s powers of
persuasion. In reflecting his bitter experience in negotiating on exporting
goods with the Siamese bureaucracy, Caen’s report of his frustrating
encounter with the Phrakhlang is unexpectedly amusing. At the first and
second meetings, the Minister sat behind and talked through a door
which was ajar about ‘two inches’ only. At their third and last get-togeth-
er, the Siamese opened his door wide enough to show his entire face and
told Caen to come again and to remain longer to explore Siam. The
Dutchman answered that he had seen more than enough and did not
wish to come back; in response to that answer the Phrakhlang began to
laugh.56 The Commissioner also described the painful procedure of
obtaining a licence to export goods. The licence should be issued by the
Phrakhlang with King Prasatthong’s permission (or in some cases, his
brother’s), then checked by Okya ‘Rabbasit’ (probably Ratchaprasit), and
stamped by Okphra Chula, and finally brought to the Dutch by the
Syahbandar. The harbour master suggested to Caen that should his peo-
ple desire a speedier procedure, they should give the Phrakhlang more
presents—a suggestion which the Dutchman resisted and suffered from
for not following it. Caen expressed his despair:
They handle their affairs so cleverly that one can feel and grope how well
they catch the ball and throw it back from one man’s roof to the other. … If
we complain about it to the Phrakhlang, he will laugh at us and close his
door. If we grumble about it to Okya Rabbasit, he will drive us off with a
sigh (since he is a formal party, only). If we go to Okphra Chula, he will con-
sider us crazy.57
Despite the success of his 1633 embassy, De Roij did not fare much bet-
ter than Caen when it came to negotiating with the khunnang. Every time
he made an appearance at court, he had to pay fifteen guilders to the
doormen and ‘other beggars’, whom he did not specify. He complained
that these courtiers did not regard begging as shameful. In order to earn
something extra, they repeatedly postponed issuing the export licence so
that the Dutch had to come to court again and again.58 Considering the
system worked as a whole, the Siamese were ‘efficient’ in their own way.
The Dutch did have several friends at court. But an official who was
considered too helpful to the Dutch could expose himself to the danger
of court intrigue. In 1634, Okphra Ratchamontri, who was a competent
interpreter and good friend of the Dutch, was imprisoned as a result of
the accusation made by his rivals of being ‘too devoted to the Dutch and
neglecting the royal service’. The VOC tried to secure his release by peti-
tioning to King Prasatthong, while his ‘clever wife’ sought help from one
of the royal consorts. Despite such representation, the monarch remained
106 CHAPTER FOUR

unconvinced. Schouten believed that the interpreter had fallen victim to

the King’s efforts to coerce the Company to help his expedition against
Patani. Depriving the Dutch of their interpreter—who officially interme-
diated for them with the local bureaucracy—was one of the many ways
the King showed his displeasure and put pressure on the VOC men in
Ayutthaya. A few months later, the ailing Ratchamontri was released but
prevented by the Phrakhlang and the influential Okya Chakri from show-
ing his gratitude to the King. He was replaced by Okmun Songphanit
(‘Trongpanit’ in Dutch reports). Whereas the former was fluent in
Portuguese and Malay—the usual languages used between the Dutch and
the Siamese court—and knowledgeable in dealing with the Dutch, his
successor, who gained the position with Chakri’s help, knew only the
‘Moor’ language.59
It was logical that a close tie with the Dutch might engender not only
suspicion but also jealousy. The positions of interpreter and harbour mas-
ter to the Dutch must have been attractive to Siamese officials, because
they could profit from the constant chance of gift-receiving (in kind and
money). For example, the Dutch rewarded the said Ratchamontri for
helping facilitate the reception and the departure of the Dutch embassy
in 1633 with thirty reals-of-eight. Okphra Choduek, who issued the
licences to allow VOC vessels to pass the tollhouse, received four to five
catties (of Siamese money) a year from the Company. To keep their busi-
ness flowing, the Dutch had to try to please many people from the King’s
current court favourites to the tollhouse keepers.60
The Company men were actually aware that Siamese officials did not
receive a regular income from the State—they made use of the land and
manpower assigned by the King to earn a living—and that they also made
a profit from foreign merchants.61 When the court asked whether the
Dutch could transport some of its servants to some of the places with
which they had contact, Van Vliet refused and explained that the
Company did not want to bear the cost. The Dutch had to provide their
workers with food and wages, whereas the Siamese King did not pay his
‘slaves’ anything for their labour. According to Van Vliet, that was a dif-
ference between the ‘free’ Dutchmen and the ‘servile’ Siamese.62
During one of his bitter fights for the Company’s interests, Van Vliet
told the Phrakhlang that the Siamese regarded the VOC as a ‘milk-rich
cow’, which gave them profit and hence deserved a better treatment. The
Minister chose to privilege the Japanese and Chinese merchants who
‘never came to him with empty hands’, although they, as Van Vliet point-
ed out to him, were often absent from Siam for a long period, unlike the
Dutch who remained in the kingdom permanently.63 The Dutch were
aware that this position was ‘one of the most profitable offices in the
whole kingdom’.64 But they did not want to take into account that, to the
 LEARNING SIAM’S POLITICS 107

Phrakhlang, a long-term profit, as Van Vliet suggested, was understand-

ably less appealing than an immediate benefit, especially when his term of
office was anything but certain.
‘Abuse of power’ was another recurrent topic in Dutch observations of
the Siamese officials. An incident in 1635 infuriated Schouten with the
way the high officials in Ayutthaya mistreated the wife, and her female
relatives, of the Dutch free burgher Jan van Meerwijk who had been
engaged in a serious conflict with a prominent courtier. Schouten lament-
ed that ‘it is noticeable what kind of people have been elevated to the
highest positions and honour here in this kingdom through the usurpa-
tion of the crown’. However, he also wrote that ‘it is certain that once this
depraved and shameful act is made known to His Majesty, he will not let
them [the abusive officials] go unpunished’. Schouten was successful in
making his plea for the release of this family to the King through the good
offices of Okphra Chula.65 Another case of the abuse of power by court
officials which Schouten witnessed ended tragically. A ‘prince’ from
Pahang who was exiled to Ayutthaya attempted to escape with his family,
allegedly in order to save his wife from harassment by Okya Chakri. Both
the family and its followers were hunted down by the Okya and other offi-
cials. The hunt ended in disaster for the fugitives: the prince, after having
committed the ‘honour killing’ of his wife, was murdered. King
Prasatthong even rewarded Chakri and the other members of the lynch
party for this outcome.66
The Dutch had good reason to avoid any direct confrontation with the
King’s men and did not always want to put their complaints before the
King himself. Schouten described King Prasatthong as a strict ruler who
punished so harshly that his actions often engendered hatred—though we
can assume that it was well concealed. The Company men in Ayutthaya
were afraid of the revenge which the relatives or the followers of those
who were punished might take.67
Despite his high rank, a man in the Phrakhlang’s position could be sub-
ject to humiliation at any time, as was often reported in the VOC sources.
In early 1634, King Prasatthong sentenced the Phrakhlang to death for
having had an innocent person, whose sister he tried to harass, killed dur-
ing his governorship in Khorat. However, the King’s favourite, Okya
Chakri, successfully begged for his ally’s life. Soon, the Minister was
released but had to demonstrate his gratitude to the King before he could
start working again.68 In 1639, another Phrakhlang was punished in the
most horrifying way for problems his slaves had created. The Dutch
documented the horrors to which the grandee was subjected:
The King ordered to decapitate two of the Phrakhlang’s malicious slaves who
fought against those of [Okya] Pichaisongkram. The Phrakhlang was locked
on five positions of his body, and seated between the dead, one head was put
108 CHAPTER FOUR

in front of him, the other tied to his neck, and his body was smeared with
the blood of the executed.69
Half a month later, the Phrakhlang was released from prison. However, his
insignia (two gold betel boxes), his title, and office were not immediately
restored to him. For some time, he was confined to his house and was not
allowed to appear in any council.70 In the absence of the incumbent
Phrakhlang, business transactions stood still for a few days until the court
had appointed another official to assume the necessary tasks. To the
Dutch it seemed that King Prasatthong punished harshly but also forgave
arbitrarily. This may have been part of his strategy of making the khun-
nang uncertain about their future—as long as they had not given up their
hope of his amnesty, they might not react against him out of sheer des-
peration.
In their writings, Van Nijenrode, Schouten, and Van Vliet give the
impression of the absolute power of the Siamese ruler over his servants.
Only once did Van Vliet write: ‘By dishonesty and avarice of the man-
darins, his [the King’s] mandates are seldom carried out or maintained.’71
In the Company reports based on day-to-day experiences, it is clear that,
from these early days, the Dutch had not only learnt that the power rela-
tions at the Siamese court were characterized by the officials’ dependence
on the King’s favour, but that the khunnang also consciously tried to
manipulate their master. Van Vliet especially reflected on what the limi-
tations of King Prasatthong’s information were:
We agree with what the Siamese mandarins say, namely that their King has
only ears and no eyes, that is to say that His Majesty always shuts himself up
in the palace, [and] knows nothing other than what his mandarins bring to
him.72

Whether the Dutch liked it or not, they still found that the Siamese King
was the last resort in their fight against his ‘inefficient’, ‘avaricious’, and
‘abusive’ officials. Consequently, they had to find ways to be heard and
seen by the King. Schouten and Van Vliet’s directorships were the time of
trial and error as they were constantly inventing means to deal with the
Siamese. First of all, Schouten emphasized that the VOC employees
should take the title and rank conferred upon them by the court more
seriously than as just a flattering compliment. Van Vliet praised his pred-
ecessor for having created a situation in which the Company men were
officially allowed to appear in the gathering of the court officials, which
was sometimes presided by the King. He believed that such opportunities
would generate respect and even cause a frisson among the courtiers, who
feared that the monarch might converse with the Dutch and learn from
them of their ‘deceitful and greedy conduct’.73 Consequently, the Dutch
operated a preventive strategy, as well. Shrewdly, they tried to make use of
 LEARNING SIAM’S POLITICS 109

the competition among the khunnang. For example, when Schouten was
summoned to translate the Siamese letters to the Governor-General, he
took this opportunity, in the absence of the unhelpful Phrakhlang, to
make known the VOC’s requests to the council of officials.74 He obvious-
ly hoped to circumvent the manipulation of information by the
Phrakhlang and to get a message through to the King via one or more of
these officials, who might be working to the disadvantage of the Minister.
Van Vliet was extraordinarily bold in dealing with the khunnang. He
once succeeded in forcing the Phrakhlang to agree to talk with him about
the sappanwood delivery, by threatening to call the issue to King
Prasatthong’s attention by firing a musket in front of the palace.75 On
another occasion, royal officials asked the Dutch to show their customary
homage to the King as he proceeded past their lodge along the river.
Knowing that he could not completely refuse to comply with the officials’
request, Van Vliet decided to use this chance to show his frustration about
the lack of co-operation of the newly appointed Phrakhlang. He sum-
moned his men, all ‘badly dressed’, to await the royal procession in an
‘undecorated’ barge moored at the river bank in front of the lodge. The
VOC men remained there until the King passed by their settlement with-
out any of them performing a gesture of reverence, and immediately
retreated. The Opperhoofd believed that this action would surprise anyone
who remembered how well the VOC usually co-operated with court pro-
tocol. Normally, the Company employees decorated their lodge with
colourful bunting and flags and waited on the front quay even until the
procession of the nobles which followed the King and his family had
passed by.76 Admittedly, this kind of unco-operative action flying in the
face of protocol was exceptional, and in this case, though attracting
Prasatthong’s attention, it did not have the desired effect. Yet, it shows the
differences between the position of the Dutch, at least in 1637, and that
of the indigenous people (and some other foreigners). Normally, if the lat-
ter dared to rebel against the protocol, they would either be tortured or
put to death.
The Dutch had another trick up their sleeve, the intermediaries. Local
merchants, both indigenous and foreign, male and female, were impor-
tant collaborators since they not only supplied the goods required by the
VOC but also served as contact persons with the different levels of the
court to which the Dutch had no access or to which their efforts to make
contact with were hampered by social, cultural, and linguistic divides.
When the Dutch wanted to know what kind of cloth they could sell in
Siam, they obtained the samples via a Portuguese mestizo Alexander
Pinheiro (Pinjeur in Dutch sources) who picked these up from the
court.77 Not only did Van Vliet obtain local commodities through his
Mon concubine, Osoet Pegu, he also used her wide-ranging network to
110 CHAPTER FOUR

gain access to the officials via their wives or to the female members of the
court. For instance, Osoet contacted the wife of the mint master to facil-
itate money exchange for the Company.78 In 1636, when the Dutch want-
ed to get rid of their Syahbandar Okluang Siyot, they recruited her assis-
tance, too. While Van Vliet tried to approach the King’s Chamberlain
Okya Uthaitham, Osoet helped the Dutch to reach the royal consort (via
that lady’s female servant) whose brother was the incumbent Phrakhlang.
Undoubtedly, gift-giving played an important part in this. The consort
consequently sent one of her ladies-in-waiting to guide the Dutch to her
brother. The Minister was surprised by his sister’s involvement and by this
move made by the Dutch and promised help. Despite these elaborate
manoeuvres, none of these people managed to convince the King to
replace Siyot with the official the Dutch had in mind.79 Understandably,
the King did not want the Dutch to have a collaborator whom they had
chosen themselves. At least, the Dutch had made themselves heard.

Conclusion

The Dutch were fully aware of the centrality of the King in Siamese soci-
ety, as everyone directed their attention to him. The politics of Siam
absorbed them into its centripetal movement. At the same time, they were
not blind to the fact that the King’s power was contested and negotiated
at every level—foreign relations, internal politics, and daily life.
Did the Dutch understand the necessity for King Prasatthong’s brutal
rule? It seems that they did. Not only did the Siamese State need a strong
man to lead it, the ruler himself had to be strong to survive the many
challenges addressed him. Neither law, the legitimacy of the royal blood,
nor the sacredness of a monk’s robe could safeguard the Siamese Kings
and their heirs. In the end, a forceful will allied with control of force pre-
vailed. The Dutch accounts tell us how vulnerable and sometimes
defenceless the Kings of Ayutthaya were, in contrast to the pictures con-
jured up in the court ceremonial and protocol which focused on elevat-
ing the ruler above the rest.
In order to survive in this competitive environment, the Dutch
believed they always had to be visible to the eyes of the King. The Siamese
ruler was the ultimate ally in their fight against the inefficiency and cor-
ruption of the Siamese bureaucracy. However, this was not an easy goal
either, especially when even such a powerful king as Prasatthong was said
to have ‘no eyes’ to see what his khunnang were doing. Also, the world of
the Siamese elite was founded on, to combine the words of Schouten and
Van Vliet, the ‘unchanging custom’ of ‘inconstancy’.
 CHAPTER FIVE

OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD

Introduction

What made King Narai one of the most famous Asian rulers in and after
his own time was his internationally oriented conduct. This monarch’s
avid interest in the outside world expressed itself in many forms of inter-
action: not only through the trinity of trade, war, and diplomacy, but also
at the most personal level of consuming and acquiring foreign material
culture and ideas. Characteristic of his reign was the dominant position
of the King himself in politics and administration, attributable to his
forceful personality, as well as the strong presence of foreign elements at
court.
Having successfully disposed of his opponents in the conflicts of suc-
cession of 1656 and 1657, for much of his thirty-two-year reign, King
Narai was occupied with attempts to maintain his hegemony over the vas-
sal states and to expand his territories, in particular towards the north.
Even during these hectic periods of war, the sources conjure up a picture
of the vivid diplomatic life at his court, which reached its zenith in the
1680s, notably with the glorious exchange of embassies with France and
Persia. At the same time, Narai kept a tight control on foreign trade which
always remained a very important source of the wealth he needed to pur-
sue his extravagant personal interests in reaching the wider world.
In comparison with various French accounts from the same period,
such as those by De Chaumont, De Choisy, Tachard and La Loubère, the
Dutch records about King Narai seem to be far less ‘exciting’, since they
pay less attention to the ‘details’ of Siamese court life than they used to do
during the previous reign. The relationship between the VOC and the
Siamese court had reached the state of ‘business as usual’. The Dutch were
by now acquainted with the basic rules governing their relations with the
Siamese. Newcomers in this cross-cultural context, such as the French,
were still in the process of learning but failed to understand the essential
rules, especially that of not mingling in the internal politics of Siam.
Although the French seemed to replace them as the Siamese King’s
most favoured nation, the Dutch found a new focus for their attention
which arose from the fact that, to a greater extent than his predecessors,
King Narai interacted energetically with the outside world by expanding
his own to meet it. Admittedly, the active diplomacy and the craving for
112 CHAPTER FIVE

foreign goods and the reception of foreign knowledge—for which Narai

was known—were by no means new to the Kings of Ayutthaya. It was the
degree of their use which was unprecedented and, in retrospect, was never
to be repeated by any of his Ayutthayan successors. His interest in the
world inspired his courtiers as well as the foreigners to compete for his
favour through diplomatic exchanges, and by supplies of material culture,
knowledge, and services.
The first part of the present chapter deals with the question of how the
Dutch learnt to deal with the new reign, the ruler, and his servants and
how they tackled the new elements at the court, namely the French and
Phaulkon. The second part investigates Dutch understanding of the
expanding ‘worlds’ of the King, in terms of a search for diplomatic glory,
material and intellectual curiosities, and their own attempts to make use
of that insight.

The VOC and the Conflicts of Succession of 1656

One important lesson which the Dutch traders had learned about Siam
was that its political culture was prone to problematic bursts of succession
strife and violent elimination of rivals. At the end of King Prasatthong’s
reign, the politics of Ayutthaya faced a situation in which the chao were
strong and the khunnang were weak. Through keeping strict control by
various strategies, Prasatthong had been successful in preventing his offi-
cials from becoming too powerful. Upon his death, submerged problems
arose from the rivalries among the princes of the blood.
As Prasatthong’s reign approached its third decade and the King had
entered his fifties, the question of who would succeed the ageing ruler
arose, at least in the form of rumours. The VOC men closely monitored
the situation. In 1650, Commissioner Rijckloff van Goens reported a
rumour that the King might abdicate in the throes of his grief at the death
of a beloved queen and entrust the kingdom to his son (unspecified)
before his own demise, to make sure that his brother the Wangna Prince
would not become King as he was entitled to ‘according to the Siamese
law’. (Van Goens, too, was convinced of a brother’s right to succeed to the
throne of Siam.) According to his report and other circumstantial evi-
dence—that, in the last phase of his rule, Prasatthong deliberately pre-
pared his sons for government tasks—, it seemed that the King did not
want his brother to succeed him. As a precaution, Van Goens advised the
High Government to consider sending a letter and some gifts to the pre-
sumptive heir to the throne, ‘the King’s son’ (probably the first-born,
Chaofa Chai), in order to secure his favour for the future.1
Since the succession troubles of 1656 have been well studied by
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 113

Dhiravat,2 also on the basis of Dutch sources, only a short summary of the
events is needed here. In August 1656, King Prasatthong died without
appointing any clear heir. Consequently, the throne of Ayutthaya was
claimed by three factions, led respectively by the Wangna Prince, by
Chaofa Chai (who was born before his father’s enthronement), and by
Phra Narai (who was born of a queen who was a daughter of King
Songtham). The Dutch seemed to be familiar with all three, since the
VOC sometimes needed their assistance in obtaining Siamese goods.
The first to take control was Chaofa Chai who seized the royal palace
—the symbolic centre of political power in Siam—immediately after his
father’s death and claimed the throne. However, the Wangna Prince and
Narai combined forces against him and ended his reign on its very first
day. Prasatthong’s brother became King Sisuthammaracha but soon
clashed with Phra Narai. On 27 October, Narai and his helpers were able
to seize the royal palace and capture the new King. As did his one-day
predecessor, Sisuthammaracha died a royal yet horrible death: he was
beaten to death with a sandalwood club. Thereupon Narai assumed the
throne at twenty-four or twenty-five years of age. In the following year
and in 1670, he in his turn was to be challenged by two of his half-broth-
ers (Phra Traiphuwanathityawong and another unnamed prince), whom
he managed to eliminate without great difficulty.3
Whereas Schouten and Van Vliet composed their records of the succes-
sion disputes in 1629 without having witnessed the events, the report of
16 November 1656 by Volkerus Westerwolt (1650-1; 1652-6) has a con-
temporaneous quality and is indeed the only eyewitness account available
for the succession conflicts. Unlike his two predecessors, Westerwolt did
not bother with pondering the question of the rules of succession because
the absence of rules, or rather of respect for rules, must have been
obvious to him. He was more concerned with how to get the Company
business done amidst the chaos.
The Dutch were affected by these internal struggles in three ways. First
of all, there was an attempt on the Siamese side to involve the VOC—
regarded as a military power in Ayutthaya—in the earliest stage of the
conflicts. On 8 August, the Company interpreter came to the lodge to
report the death of King Prasatthong and asked the Dutch on Phra
Narai’s behalf for some men and guns to fight his eldest brother. Biding
his time, Westerwolt made an excuse for not coming to the young Prince’s
aid on the grounds that he had to prepare the few men he had at that time
to defend the Dutch compound against robbers and thieves who might
seize this opportunity to attack the lodge. Most importantly, the
Governor-General had forbidden his men in Siam, on pain of death, to
become involved in any internal troubles.4
Secondly, a rumour was spread intimating the possibility of a com-
114 CHAPTER FIVE

bined attempt by the Dutch and the Japanese to replace King

Sisuthammaracha with Phra Narai. Speculation was rife that the royal
consorts were so afraid of an alleged attack on the royal palace by the
Dutch that they were preparing to flee. The rumour was completely
unfounded but it reflected the views of people in Ayutthaya on the
strength of these two foreign communities. Though fearful for their lives,
the Dutch could not help feeling proud that the Siamese were afraid of
them more than of other nations.5
While this rumour of a possible threat from the VOC was spread, King
Sisuthammaracha tried to win the loyalty of the Dutch. The first step was
that the Opperhoofd and his deputy were obliged to drink the water of
allegiance to the King. The oath of allegiance was an obligation by which
officials and court servants, apparently including some representatives of
the foreign communities who were integrated into the Siamese court hier-
archy, swore their loyalty to the monarch. This ceremony, which took
place twice a year in March and October, had been mentioned by Jan
Joosten de Roij, Schouten, and Van Vliet, without any indication of their
direct participation. At a certain point, the Dutch showed their adaptabil-
ity to the local situation and embraced this tradition, though not without
some reservations. In March 1644, Van Tzum was ordered to drink the
water of allegiance to King Prasatthong. He first used the pretext of an ill-
ness to excuse himself from participating in the ceremony, which he
deemed ‘improper’, presumably considering himself already a sworn ser-
vant of the Governor-General. However, King Prasatthong diplomatical-
ly compelled the Dutch to swear their loyalty to him, at least ceremonial-
ly, by offering the Dutch a special audience, in which the ‘sick’ Opper-
hoofd did not have to crawl on the ground but was allowed to walk
towards the King’s throne. It was such a great honour that the Dutch
dared no longer refuse.6 The situation in 1656 was different: Westerwolt
and his successor, Jan van Rijck (1656-62), showed no hesitation about
swearing the oath. To their amazement, apart from expressing his wish to
continue a good relationship with the Governor-General and promising
to re-confirm the Company’s commercial privileges, King Sisutham-
maracha rewarded each of them with a silver betel box. The Dutch per-
ceived this gesture as a great honour, especially since they believed that the
Siamese ‘did not love to give’. Some Japanese traders even came to con-
gratulate the Dutch in their lodge. Both men asked permission from
Batavia to keep these gifts, as their predecessors had been allowed to keep
the tokens given by King Prasatthong for their service or as compensation
for the difficulties the Dutch had experienced at the Siamese court.
Lastly, the succession conflicts obstructed the Company business. As
an example, the permission to export rice which the Dutch had obtained
from King Prasatthong was now annulled. Westerwolt and his men had
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 115

to start anew applying for 1,000 lasten of rice from King Sisutham-
maracha. Their hope of obtaining at least half of that amount was thwart-
ed by the new Okya Chakri. The process suffered further interruptions
because of the suspension of the Phrakhlang who was demoted because his
brother had aligned himself with Chaofa Chai. When his replacement
told the VOC that the King had granted 320 lasten of rice, Westerwolt
was apparently satisfied. Then, another ‘unexpected disaster’ for Dutch
business came on 26 and 27 October when Prince Narai launched his
attack on the royal palace.
Westerwolt seems to have explained Narai’s action in terms of self-
defence. He reported that the friction between the Prince and the new
King had been kindled by Okya Chakri. The Opperhoofd remarked that
this grandee was motivated by his own ambition to succeed
Sisuthammaracha, who had no male heir, after other princes of the blood
had been eliminated. Narai’s men had been sent out of the capital,
molested, and even killed for ‘trivial reasons’. On 26 October, when the
Prince did not appear at court, as he was expected to do, his uncle took
this act—which Siamese court protocol regarded as rebellious—as the
reason to try to get rid of him.7
The Dutch sources say that Phra Narai was then assisted by various
groups. First of all, he was joined by his younger brothers. Then, the for-
mer Phrakhlang, now Okya Sukhothai, whose brother had been executed
at the behest of King Sisuthammaracha, also defected to him. These and
other helpers brought in their own men to buttress the Prince’s forces.
Lastly, Phra Narai managed to recruit assistance from foreign communi-
ties in Ayutthaya: the Japanese, the Ayutthaya Malays, and the Patani
Malays. Other sources mention more foreign groups involved, including
the Persians and the Portuguese.8 It was nothing new in Siamese politics
to seek foreign help; previously, the Japanese force in Ayutthaya had
helped Prasatthong to overcome his rivals in 1629. But the scale of the
foreign help Narai was able to obtain showed that he had established an
even vaster connection with various communities in Ayutthaya and gave
a clearer indication of Ayutthaya as a cosmopolitan port city by 1650s.
Without meeting much resistance from his uncle’s men, Narai’s attack
on the royal palace proved to be a lightning success. In his last words
about Sisuthammaracha’s short reign, the profit-oriented Westerwolt
regretted having given Portuguese gold chains to him, who ‘craved for
gold’: ‘Had we known that his life would soon end, we would have post-
poned it [namely giving the gifts].’9
Westerwolt praised Phra Narai for his ‘manly and audacious deed’.
Nevertheless, he was amazed by the fact that the symbolic centre of power
in Siam fell shamefully to attackers twice within only two and a half
months, before remarking, characteristically: ‘It can be well measured
116 CHAPTER FIVE

what the Siamese would do when they are faced with courageous and
experienced soldiers’, the implication being a Dutch force. He went on to
comment that the Siamese did not stand by each other and, in contrast
to people in other countries, did not flock to defend their king in times
of trouble. Westerwolt estimated that there must have been more than
200,000 able-bodied men within and around the capital, but only 10,000
men were involved in this fight, and that ‘during the assault on the court,
no one other than the Malays and the Japanese were armed with muskets’.
He explained that Siamese men usually went to war armed only with a
sword and a pike, or no weapons at all, and that no common man had a
gun.10
Dutch neutrality during the turmoil of 1656, even their refusal to aid
Phra Narai, did not jeopardize their position in the eyes of the new King.
The familiarity of King Narai with the VOC can be traced back to, at
least, as early as 1655, when he granted some timber to and ordered some
goods from the Company. Although the Prince promised to pay for his
orders, the Dutch were not sanguine that this would happen. Westerwolt
had earlier described Prince ‘Promnarit’, as the Dutch called him, as
someone who ‘appears to be fairly avaricious’ and ‘seems to take after his
father’.11 The Opperhoofd now told the High Government how to deal
with this new monarch:
A young ruler will assume that the Honourable Company is afraid of his
power, which he believes to have. Thus, in the first instance, not everything
he desires should be given [to him] because, in this effeminate nation, if one
shows no manly courage …, one will not be respected by them.
Westerwolt also told his colleagues in Ayutthaya not to let themselves be
intimidated by any threats, since ‘it seems to be a local custom here to
frighten someone with a death sentence’.12
Finally, after a long delay, in mid-November Westerwolt obtained per-
mission to leave Siam with four Dutch ships. In the company of the
Malays, the Japanese, and the Portuguese, the Opperhoofd was summoned
to the court, where he bade farewell to the new monarch. King Narai
called the officials by their name to find out whether anyone was absent,
which would be understood as a sign of repudiating his right to rule.
Westerwolt remarked that the damage from the attack on the royal palace
was barely visible: ‘It seems that those who stormed the court tried to
avoid damaging it.’13 The Dutch were glad to receive the news that, on 16
December 1656, King Narai had announced a pardon to the rest of
minor malefactors. This was a signal that business could start again after
having been blocked by the fighting and by the absence from daily work
of the main trade officials. Within a few months, people returned to their
normal life from hiding and again took up their crafts and trade. The
VOC even managed to buy rice, though at a high price, despite a bad har-
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 117

vest season.14 These events reflect both the limited nature of this political
conflict and the resilience of Ayutthaya in recovering from a political cri-
sis within a short time.
At the beginning of King Narai’s reign, the Dutch found themselves in
a favourable position, as a major trade partner of the royal court. The
King and the prominent officials were friendly to them. On 19 November
1656, the new Opperhoofd, Jan van Rijck, reported having drunk the
water of allegiance with the khunnang in front of the King. King Narai’s
generosity towards the VOC can be deduced from the list of his inaugu-
ral presents to the Governor-General, which included, among other
items, two elephants and two gold dishes on pedestals. Van Rijck gave
reassurances that, although the latter were not really appreciated by the
Dutch, such a gift expressed the King’s truly beneficent inclination
towards the Governor-General. He believed that these golden dishes were
highly esteemed in Siam because they were used to serve betel to the
King; it was a gift no Siamese King had ever before sent to any foreign
potentate.15

The Dutch and King Narai’s Officials

In general, King Narai was in a strong position in his relations with his
officials. He overcame the challenges from his half-brothers and their fol-
lowers as well as the uprising of the Makassarese in Ayutthaya in 1686,
which also involved a faction at court.16 Apart from these, as Dhiravat
observes, ‘court conflicts and rivalries were between courtiers and did not
involve the issue of the royal succession’.17
On the other side of this master-servant relationship, King Narai must
have been served by many officials who shared his interests in commer-
cial, military, and diplomatic expansion. For example, in January 1661,
Van Rijck wrote that the ruler had been advised by the ‘young rash lords’
to go to war in the north, but another group, the ‘elderly’, was trying to
talk him out of it. Considering that living conditions in the kingdom
were desperate, the Dutch hoped that the young King would stop listen-
ing to the young officials and start ruling his realm peacefully instead of
seeking glory by conquering other lands.18 Needless to say, these officials
did not always serve their lord’s purpose more than their own.
As various studies have shown, not only King Narai but also his khun-
nang involved themselves actively in trade. The VOC records repeatedly
describe how difficult it was for the Company men to compete with local,
or localized foreign, officials. Opperhoofd Nicolaas de Roij (1669-72)
described his view of the nature of the behaviour of the khunnang as fol-
lows:
118 CHAPTER FIVE

The noblemen, who are extremely self-seeking people, will never fail to swin-
dle a part of the gain for themselves. It occurred so even when they knew
that the King would punish them for it and arrest them as a result of it.
[That is] because the Siamese have such a nature that, [even if ] one has by
now seen his predecessor beheaded today, one [still] would commit the same
offence tomorrow, like we have seen enough in Siam at court—that is with-
in the King’s sight. And if they do so at court, one can easily assess what they
are supposed to do in remote places.19
In short, for these khunnang, the chance of benefiting from trade,
whether this would be the fruits of a direct participation or came with
‘gift-giving’ or ‘bribery’ by merchants, was irresistible, whatever the costs
and the consequences. The Phrakhlang Kosa Lek was an excellent exam-
ple of a Siamese official actively participating in trade, which made him a
formidable rival of the VOC. He had a strong personal tie to King Narai
because his mother had been the King’s wet-nurse and he had been
brought up as the King’s foster brother.20 He was undoubtedly a wealthy
man, considering that, for example, every time the VOC requested rice
for export, it gave him two catties of silver.21 Kosa Lek also served as a field
general in the wars against Burma and Lansang during the 1660s and
1670s.22
In 1670, Governor Balthazar Both of Malacca recommended the
Ayutthaya office procure the tra for the export of Ligor tin directly from
the Siamese King instead of from the Phrakhlang, because he believed that
the licence issued by the Minister did not have the desired effect. De Roij
had to explain to Batavia why it was not possible to comply with
Governor Bort’s recommendations, emphasizing that no one other than
the Phrakhlang was entitled to issue the export licence, which in turn had
to be approved by the King. In other words, the tra the Minister author-
ized was the King’s permission. The King of Siam never granted anyone
a tra personally. Nor did he write in person to any foreign rulers, except
for the powerful ones like ‘the great Mughal, the Emperor of China and
the King of Golgonda’. De Roij insisted that there was no more powerful
letter of authorization than that issued by the Minister and no solution
was available other than to bribe the local authorities and even the min-
ers in Ligor in order to obtain tin. He added that, in response to his com-
plaint, Kosa Lek insisted that he should not be blamed for the Company’s
failure to procure tin but that the Dutch themselves were at fault for fail-
ing to strike a better deal locally. The Siamese also refused to support the
Dutch request for privileges to trade in Phuket and nearby Bangkhli
(especially in tin), where the English had already obtained permission to
build a factory.23
The Dutch continued to believe that their difficulties in obtaining tin
in Ligor during the late 1660s and early 1670s owed much to the
Phrakhlang himself, who also had a share in the tin trade.24 The problems
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 119

the Dutch experienced were not illustrative of the situation of the other
foreign traders in Siam at that time. When Governor Bort in Malacca
suggested that De Roij should intervene and try to exclude Asian and
other European traders from Phuket and Bangkhli, the latter explained
that it was the King’s policy to attract as many foreign merchants to his
kingdom as possible. The royal court, for example, had written off the
debt of the English of 1,000 catties of Siamese money because King Narai
hoped to have them trading in Siam. Meanwhile, the Malay, the Indian
and other traders were also treated cordially, being accorded banquets and
other favours. When they did not sell their goods, the court would even
intervene by buying them and order more commodities from these mer-
chants.25 Without the support of the Phrakhlang to present their case to
the King, the position of the Dutch was even more aggravated by this
royal policy of open competition.
Although the khunnang benefited from King Narai’s commercial
expansion, their enthusiasm for it was not unbounded. Besides ‘the
khunnang’s inherent prejudice against active participation in trade’, the
Crown strategy of using the inheritance law (which made the King his
servants’ heir) and the confiscation of property as punishment made it
difficult for officials to pass on their wealth to their next generation and
prevented the formation of a ‘commercial class’ of officials or dynasties of
rich trader-officials.26 De Roij’s interesting observation should also be
added to the explanations for the seeming lack of initiative among
Ayutthaya officials. When King Narai’s ships returned from Bengal and
Coromandel fully loaded with the much desired textiles in 1670, the
Opperhoofd was obliged to assess the situation. Despite this successful
shipment, the Opperhoofd still did not believe that the monarch was plan-
ning to become directly involved in the ‘silk trade’ with Bengal—an
action which might deprive the VOC of its share in the textile trade
between India and Siam as well as that with East Asia. He asserted that
Narai was not accustomed to and hence not confident enough about
sending a large capital sum overseas. He pointed out that the Siamese
King preferred to trade in such produce from his own country which cost
him little to procure as tin, areca, sappanwood, namrak, elephants and
elephants’ teeth, and iron. Nor would his officials dare to encourage him
to invest abroad because: ‘If the undertaking shall fail, it is a rule here that
those who have recommended it must pay back, that is why they all keep
quiet.’27
Kosa Lek, once more, serves as a good example of how uncertain the
life and career of an Ayutthayan courtier could be. Although he had a
close personal relationship with King Narai and supplied many services,
he did not escape the fate which khunnang often encountered. Despite
having returned victorious from the northern campaign in May 1672, the
120 CHAPTER FIVE

Phrakhlang apparently fell from King Narai’s favour because, according to

De Roij, the King questioned his loyalty—or to put another interpreta-
tion on it: he probably grew envious of the grandee’s power. Whatever the
true cause, the King’s displeasure was made known when the returning
army under the Minister’s command entered the capital without any cel-
ebration. The keen eyes of the Company office in Ayutthaya were caught
by these political developments, and it consequently advised that Batavia
divide the usual presents for the Phrakhlang into two parts: one for the
Minister and one for the King’s favourite, the Persian Okphra Sinaowarat
or Aqa Muhammad. The latter, who held the office of the head of the
Persian community in Siam, was also actively engaged in trade.28 The
Dutch had been aware of the ‘hidden hatred and jealousy’—suggesting a
rather indirect confrontation—between the two grandees and carefully
tried to balance their relationship with both men.29 But it was only in
1683, four years after the death of his Persian rival in 1679, that the
Dutch saw Kosa Lek’s ultimate fall from grace. According to the only—
French—source giving an explanation of his eclipse, King Narai punished
the Phrakhlang for having taken a big bribe from some phrai who did not
want to perform corvée building a European-style fortification.30 The
Phrakhlang died in July 1683, after having been severely flogged. The
Dutch say that the King mourned the death of one of the kingdom’s most
competent ministers. His grief did not stop him seizing all the wealth
Kosa Lek had accumulated during his career, and leaving his family with
nothing.31 The fall of Kosa Lek appears very much a repeat of earlier sto-
ries of an official being too powerful, popular and/or wealthy to be trust-
worthy. Yet, King Narai did allow his courtiers more freedom to pursue
their own interests than his father had done. That someone like Kosa Lek
was able to hold his office for so long and to hoard such great wealth
would have been impossible under King Prasatthong.
VOC policy towards Narai’s officials was forged by the hard experience
of its men-on-the-spot during the previous reign, especially with the for-
mer Okya Sombattiban under King Prasatthong. Between 1648 and
1653, the Dutch were to a large extent dependent on the patronage of this
influential courtier. In his report of 1650, Van Goens recognized how
important it was to secure the Okya’s support but also envisaged the dan-
ger of relying on one official only, especially when he was ‘old and has
many enemies’. Therefore, he recommended his colleagues in Ayutthaya
look for other allies at court as well.32 When Sombattiban as admiral of
the Siamese fleet not only failed to conquer Songkhla in 1652, but also in
his role as the King’s negotiator could not muster naval assistance from
the VOC for this expedition, he was disgraced. From that moment, the
Okya turned his bitterness against the Dutch. When he was made the
Phrakhlang in late 1654 or early 1655, he was in the position to make
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 121

their life difficult to the extent that they even believed that King
Prasatthong had revoked the VOC export right in hides of 1647 because
of Sombattiban’s influence, compounded by the intrigues of some
Chinese traders. They were saved from further bullying when he perished
in the purge following the fall of Chaofa Chai, with whom he had taken
sides. As Dhiravat points out, this was a particular case in which an offi-
cial, who usually relied on the King’s favour, was also dependent on a for-
eign power, in this case the VOC. The Dutch now resolved to avoid ever
again being closely associated with a courtier of Okya Sombattiban’s emi-
nence.33
Immediately after his enthronement, King Narai rewarded his ally,
Okya Sukhothai, by appointing him Okya Chakri. This grandee was list-
ed by Westerwolt as one whom the Dutch should handle with kid gloves.
Nevertheless, having had to deal with Okya Sombattiban earlier, the
Opperhoofd advised his successors not to foster a close relationship with
the new Chakri. The Dutch had visited the late Sombattiban’s residence
in the evenings ‘on a daily basis’ in order to secure his favour and to learn
the inside news from the Siamese court. (This shows that King
Prasatthong also relaxed his control on his officials’ movements in the
later stages of his reign.) Such close contacts were no longer advisable
because most of the court news no longer gave the Dutch any clear advan-
tage and the visits only added to the Company’s costs. Bitter experience
had taught that courting Okya Sombattiban by no means guaranteed his
support: their most powerful friend paradoxically had turned out to be
their most dangerous foe. In the end, Westerwolt’s prudence saved the
Company from another wasted investment because, in December 1660,
Okya Chakri fell from royal favour as a result of the machinations of King
Narai’s Queen and half-sister who blamed the Okya for the death of her
brothers in earlier court conflicts.34
Westerwolt not only recommended a policy change, he also sought to
preserve existing useful tools. First and foremost, he thought that the
Dutch should still try to maintain the alternative way to gain access to the
Siamese court which Schouten had been able to obtain: participating in
official gatherings, which was less individual and more structural. To
make use of the right to attend the daily court gatherings, Westerwolt rec-
ommended that the assistants Hugo Culemburgh and Enoch Poolvoet
who, but especially the former, had mastered the Thai language and were
knowledgeable about court affairs, should be present in order to follow
such resolutions taken by the court as might affect VOC interests. From
such a distance it is difficult to ascertain from the sources available to
what extent and for how long the Dutch made use of their right to attend
the official gatherings of khunnang. Westerwolt’s second recommendation
was to continue the practice of gift-giving, but suggesting it be set up
122 CHAPTER FIVE

more systematically. The Phrakhlang should be given considerable gifts

twice a year without the VOC requesting anything in return. In Wester-
wolt’s experience, when the Dutch made a request, they had to give and
keep giving until the Minister was satisfied and decided to grant their
wish. But in following the course he suggested, he hoped to secure the
Phrakhlang’s favour in advance.35 This did not effectuate the desired
effect, since the Dutch kept complaining that they had to give presents to
the ‘greedy’ Phrakhlang.
The employment of foreign experts in the Siamese bureaucracy had
long been a part of the system. However, what was innovative in King
Narai’s politics was the employment of foreigners in administrative posi-
tions to counterbalance the power of indigenous administrative officials.
The advantage to the King was that these foreign administrator officials
had no control of (indigenous) manpower and were therefore unlikely to
pose a large-scale threat.36 The strong presence and increasing influence of
foreign officials in Narai’s administration could not have escaped the
Dutch, especially since they were suffering from the abuse of power by
these foreign courtiers more than ever. The most notable case was the
threat to the VOC employees made by the Persian official Abdu’r-Razzaq
and his Chinese accomplices, which partly contributed to the crisis in
Dutch-Siamese relations in 1662-3. In the later stages of Narai’s reign, a
courtier of Greek origin, Constantine Phaulkon (1647/8-88), became the
most trusted official of the King and the most powerful person in the
kingdom. He recruited many more foreigners, especially the Europeans,
into royal service.37 His rise to prominence and close connection with the
French had far-reaching effects on the commercial and political life of
Siam.

Novelties at Court: The French and Constantine Phaulkon

Two remarkable developments took place in the second half of King

Narai’s reign: the onset of the French involvement in Siam in the 1660s
and the emergence of Narai’s new favourite, Constantine Phaulkon, in
the 1680s. Although the results of these developments were felt in the
personal life of the King, their coincidence undoubtedly affected the
politics of the realm, as well.
The French involvement in Siam, which ended in a highly dramatic
manner with the eviction of their troops and the persecution of the
French subjects in the kingdom during the political turmoil of 1688,
actually began with a chance encounter, the rather accidental arrival of
French priests of the Société des Missions Étrangères in April 1662.38 After
the Apostolic Vicar Bishop Pierre Lambert de la Motte and his com-
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 123

panions had been prevented from reaching their destination by a combi-

nation of storms at sea and reports of the persecution of Christians in
Cochin China and Tonkin, they decided to call at Ayutthaya. The French
quickly became aware of the potential of this port-polity to become a base
for their missionary work in South-East Asia, impressed in particular by
its central location between the Bay of Bengal and the South China Sea,
and the religious tolerance of the local inhabitants and the Government.
In 1665, King Narai responded positively to the Missions Étrangères by
permitting its members to proselytize freely in the kingdom, except in the
palace. In return, Lambert volunteered to set up a school to teach
European sciences. In the following year, the King granted the French a
piece of land and construction materials to build their church. The site
developed into a complex including a two-storey seminary, a presbytery
and school, a residence for missionaries in transit, a cemetery, and a hos-
pital.
In Siam, the Missions Étrangères decided on the strategy (used by the
Jesuits) of evangelizing the local elite in the belief that the ordinary peo-
ple would follow; that is to say, they hoped to convert King Narai to
Roman Catholicism. Lambert failed completely to see that the Siamese
King identified with Buddhism on cultural and constitutional grounds as
closely as the French Crown did with Roman Catholicism. From a mis-
understanding born of their own religious conviction and fond hopes, the
French priests also mistook Narai’s openness to foreign culture as a sign
of spiritual longing. This misperception was responsible for the subse-
quent French political and military policies towards Siam. To achieve the
said strategy, it was essential for the French priests to create a ‘political and
social standing’ which would allow them access to the monarch. Despite
their misconception of the King’s attitude towards Christianity, the
priests were realistic enough to know what captured Narai’s interest:
trade, royal opulence (which included diplomacy with great foreign
rulers), and science. This was by no means innovative; the Portuguese and
the Dutch had created their own standing in Siam by offering commer-
cial and diplomatic contacts, as well as military and navigational technol-
ogy. The Missions Étrangères recruited help from the newly established
French East India Company and Louis XIV of France. In capturing the
interest of the French Company, the priests tried to build up a convinc-
ing picture of Siam’s wealth and strategic location as a commercial centre
in the well-connected trading network of East Asia, more specifically of
its access to China and Japan—the markets still closed to the French. To
both Louis XIV and King Narai, they emphasized the idea of the royal
responsibility to defend the faith, partly to ensure the obedience of the
population to the Crown.39 The members of the Missions Étrangères not
only offered themselves as intermediaries between the French East India
124 CHAPTER FIVE

Company, the French Crown, and the Siamese court but also between
King Narai and the material and spiritual world of Europe.
With the appearance of this new actor, the rivalries among the
Europeans at the Siamese court once more became perceptible. The eccle-
siastical status of the Missions Étrangères did not change the fact that its
members were very much serving the political cause of the French King
and the CIO, which was a Government enterprise. In 1674 and 1675, the
Dutch reported that the French priests, notably the visiting Bishop
François Pallu, were using their access to King Narai to undermine the
positions of other Europeans in the King’s eyes. Not only did they
request, with the papal sanction, that all local Portuguese clerics should
fall under the jurisdiction of the French Bishop in Siam, they also tried to
discredit the Dutch by informing the monarch of the progress which
France had made during the Dutch War (1672-8), in which France and
England fought against the Dutch United Provinces and its allies.
According to the VOC report, the French statement that the Dutch had
lost their country was countered by Narai’s question as to how the Dutch
could maintain their previous condition, if they no longer had a country.
Non-plussed the French could not answer this and told him that they had
been informed of this by another priest in Surat. The Siamese court was,
it seems, rather circumspect in accepting foreign news. As we have seen,
King Ekathotsarot even sent an embassy to Holland to test the Portuguese
allegations about the ‘country-less’ Dutch and to evaluate the potential of
the Dutch as his new ally.
The Dutch were certainly not inexperienced in this kind of battle; dur-
ing the first three decades of the seventeenth century, they had fought the
Portuguese, who had levelled all sorts of accusations at them, such as
being ‘buccaneers without a country of their own’.40 One way to counter-
act European rivals was to make their own (version of the) news public.
In 1656, the VOC had obtained royal permission to hold a celebration to
mark its conquest of Colombo. It was reportedly witnessed by all com-
munities in Ayutthaya and was believed to have had the effect of discred-
iting the Portuguese in Siam.41 In October 1674, the Dutch in Ayutthaya,
by permission and with the sanction of King Narai, publicly celebrated
the ‘glorious news’ from their home country and expected that the French
priests at court would not be pleased. This probably concerned the sign-
ing of the Treaty of Westminster on 19 February of that year which ended
the Third Anglo-Dutch War (1672-4), which was part of the Dutch War.
Kosa Lek, who otherwise was not very helpful, now made a contribution
of gunpowder, with which the Dutch could fire salutes from their can-
non.42
As if one rival nation were not enough, the Dutch in Siam faced anoth-
er opponent—one man, yet even more powerful than any national fac-
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 125

tion. Judging from how fast he made his career at the Ayutthayan court,
Constantine Phaulkon from Cephalonia undoubtedly possessed the qual-
ity most required of him, to help King Narai reach the outside world.
Intensely ambitious, he strove for more than the role to which he was ini-
tially assigned. Much has been written about this Greek adventurer dur-
ing and after his own time, and yet his true personality remains obscured
by the contrasting stories surrounding his life.43
Phaulkon probably arrived in Ayutthaya in 1678 serving as an inter-
preter to Richard Burnaby of the EIC. English Roman Catholic sources
indicate that, a year later, Burnaby presented his Greek subordinate to the
Phrakhlang Kosa Lek to help facilitate the trade between his Company
and the Crown, by installing his own intermediary at court.44 Dutch
sources give only little of Phaulkon’s background. They mentioned him
for the first time bargaining for textiles in Ligor in 1679. In 1685, Opper-
hoofd Johannes Keijts (1685-8) told a different story: only after his
English patron had left Ayutthaya did Phaulkon decide to learn the
Siamese court language and was therefore able to put himself in the
service of Kosa Lek. Yet, the rest of his report agrees with the general
knowledge that the Greek soon became a favourite of King Narai, who
was impressed by his keen intellect, and his real chance came after the
death of the disgraced Phrakhlang.45
Various sources suggest that Phaulkon impressed the Siamese court
with his ability to manage its ‘foreign affairs’. He was able to reduce the
transportation cost of the Siamese embassy to Persia in 1681-2 to half its
initial price. He also dealt ably with the payment of English debts to the
court, and acted as a translator during the second interview between
Bishop Pallu and King Narai in 1682.46 In 1683, the monarch offered
him the chance to replace Kosa Lek in the office of Phrakhlang. The wily
Greek declined and instead accepted to act as an advisor to the Malay
Okya Wang who assumed the position. In this way, he hoped to avoid
attracting the envy and resentment of the other officials and from a prac-
tical point of view was in a position to run the khlang (royal treasury)
which controlled the buying and selling of commodities for the Crown.47
Unquestionably, on a day-to-day basis the Dutch felt some of the
advantages that Phaulkon brought into the Siamese administration
because of his ability to facilitate between different systems. His initial
role as interpreter eventually made a difference at the Siamese court, even
for the Dutch. In early 1682, Opperhoofd Faa asked Batavia to attach a
translation of its future letters to the Ayutthayan court in Portuguese or
English, besides the Malay version, because Phaulkon who had mastered
both languages could help the Phrakhlang understand the content better
than the Malay interpreters did.48 The Dutch were also alerted to his ris-
ing importance when, in that year, they asked him which presents King
126 CHAPTER FIVE

Narai preferred. Incontrovertibly, the Greek helped facilitate one of the

most stressful tasks for the Company men: the settlement of the King’s
debts. It was a constant problem, the more so because each official
involved kept his own account, and to compare all of them only compli-
cated the matter. Phaulkon had made the suggestion that the account of
the King’s debts be kept only with his European bookkeeper or hired
scribe, an arrangement which Faa admitted was effective.49
Real problems arose later, when the man who was the intermediary
between the powers became a man of power himself. The VOC men who
had no close tie with Phaulkon considered his rising influence a hin-
drance rather than an opportunity. Jur van Goor points out the similari-
ties between the difficult situations of the Dutch in the early 1660s with
Abdu’r-Razzaq and in the mid-1680s with Constantine Phaulkon. In
both cases, the Dutch had no direct access to King Narai and had no
means to try to negotiate their position.50 Phaulkon’s strong grip on the
administration of trade and monopolistic handling guaranteed friction
with the Dutch as well as with other trading communities in Siam,
including his former employer, the EIC, which failed to make the most
of this connection. According to the Dutch, while quarrelling with the
English Company, Phaulkon still felt comfortable and powerful enough
in his newly acquired position to send some gifts via his ‘friends’ to King
Charles II of England in 1684.51 It was a different story for the English-
men in royal service at Mergui who were exploiting their freedom of
action and Phaulkon’s backing by preying on cargo ships in the Bay of
Bengal. Their activities inevitably led Siam to a clash with the EIC.52
Phaulkon had qualities which are reminiscent of Narai’s former
favourite, Okya Sinaowarat. The Ship of Sulaiman, the account of Siam
written by Muhammad Rabi Ibn Muhammad Ibrahim who was a mem-
ber of the Persian embassy to Ayutthaya in 1685, mentions that this
Persian grandee had enjoyed the King’s favour not just because he had
‘much knowledge of the real workings of politics and governing’, but also
because he was ‘well-versed in matters pertaining to kingly magnificence
and the regulations of food and drink in formal gatherings’.53 These were
the qualities which proved highly satisfactory to King Narai who used
ceremonial to promote his glory in the eyes of foreigners.
In 1685, Phaulkon notified the VOC that, from then on, King Narai
should be addressed in the letters from Batavia by the title of ‘Emperor’
and as ‘His Imperial Majesty’ (as ‘keizer’ and ‘zijn keizerlijk majesteit’).
Keijts believed that this change was fabricated by the Greek himself, and
that the ruler was either not aware of the difference between the new and
the old titles, or not even informed of the change. The Opperhoofd point-
ed out the fact that the Siamese King was called by his subjects nothing
other than ‘Propouto Tjoekka’ (Phraphuttha Chaokha), which meant the
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 127

‘highest lord’. His insight was, however, not appreciated by the High
Government which preferred instead to present this change to the
Gentlemen Seventeen as Narai’s arrogance.54 Whether King Narai under-
stood it or not, Phaulkon was trying to enhance his master’s glory in the
way the Europeans would understand.
The Dutch Opperhoofd reported that he had attended two banquets
given by Phaulkon in the King’s name for all prominent Europeans at his
residence in Lopburi. The first banquet was a vehicle for the glorification
of King Pedro II (r. 1683-1706) of Portugal, and the second to honour
the coronation of the English King James II (r. 1685-8).55 At one of these
banquets, Keijts encountered five French Jesuits and a military com-
mander, the Chevalier De Forbin,56 whom he called the regular guests of
the Greek grandee. The alliance between Phaulkon, the French, and
Roman Catholicism had started in 1682, when, in order to marry Maria
Guyomar de Pinha, a Roman Catholic of Japanese and Portuguese extrac-
tion, the Greek official formally embraced her faith.57 The French engaged
him as part of their strategy to gain access to King Narai. The Dutchman
described the event:
There [at the banquet], all was princely served in silver service. The table was
served by French and some Siamese, and incessantly provided from the
palace with a variety of food. We toasted various times, among other things,
the already departed and still to depart friends of His Majesty. We did not
talk about anything other than the war affairs and especially how vigorously
His Majesty of France (whose portrait was displayed in the front hall)
besieged the city of Luxembourg [in 1684] and conquered it’.58

Again, this European gathering sponsored by the Siamese court was not
an unprecedented scene. Promoting the ‘harmony’ among Europeans,
however ephemeral, had been part of the European diplomacy of Siam,
along with balancing them off against each other.
Unconventionally for the Kings of Ayutthaya, from the beginning of
the 1670s, King Narai preferred to spend long periods outside the capital
at his palace in Lopburi, which became the place where people did busi-
ness with the court. While staying there, King Narai relaxed his routine a
little. In 1676, the Dutch were invited there to meet the King personally
for half an hour.59 However, they also complained that, in Lopburi, the
King was blinded from everything.60 In the 1680s, it was impossible to do
business at court without the involvement of Phaulkon and the French.
Keijts was irritated that the French priests and De Forbin kept Phaulkon
busy and away from other business (especially concerning the Dutch), for
example, with a fortification project. He also remarked that the French
Jesuits would ‘shamelessly’ join any meeting. For instance, they attended
a meeting between him and Phaulkon which did not concern them at
all.61 What the Dutch did not know was that there was also a complaint
128 CHAPTER FIVE

current among the French that the Greek prevented them from gaining
direct access to King Narai.62
Despite the changes which resulted from the presence of the French
and Phaulkon, the Dutch, experienced and resourceful in dealing with
the reality of the Siamese court, did not easily give up their position and
their share in the Siam trade. They sought for accommodation rather than
direct confrontation, especially when it came to dealing with the power-
ful Greek courtier. Phaulkon was apparently well aware of how to make
use of his position in relation to the Dutch when he simply asked them
why he, despite the assistance he gave the Company, was in Batavia’s bad
books. Implicitly, he was saying that, if the Dutch wanted to prove that
his suspicion was not true, the High Government should present him
with some precious rarities as a token of its cordiality.63 Keijts actually
nurtured no hope of an improved relationship between the Dutch and the
Greek ‘because of his character and his conversion to Roman
Catholicism’. Nevertheless, both parties tried to keep up appearances.
The Ayutthaya comptoir not only gave wine and other European provi-
sions to Phaulkon as gifts, it also hosted a feast for him, his family, and
his Portuguese father confessor and secretary Frei Pedro, with other
prominent Europeans in Ayutthaya, as best as its limited capacity
allowed. On that occasion, Phaulkon generously rewarded the entertain-
ers and servants with no less than 900 guilders.64 In November 1685, the
Greek arranged for Keijts to meet King Narai personally in Lopburi. The
scene was impressive: King Narai made his appearance from the inner
court on an elephant, standing only three or four steps away from the
Dutchman, who was sitting on his heels. He communicated with Keijts
via Phaulkon and bestowed a Siamese lower-body garment on him. After
the King had withdrawn, Phaulkon and De Forbin came to congratulate
the Dutchman on the royal gift. Despite the grudges against Phaulkon’s
trade policy, the experienced Opperhoofd, who had been playing along
with the whole protocol, expressed his gratitude to the Greek whom he
had since recently begun to address as ‘Your Excellency’, for arranging this
audience. Considering that many French officers were not ready to accept
Phaulkon’s high position at court and accord him the concomitant
honours, Keijts’s behaviour was highly diplomatic.65
With the second embassy under the leadership of Simon de la Loubère
in 1687, France sent along 600 French soldiers under the pretext of giv-
ing Siam protection (for instance from the Dutch). Phaulkon was proba-
bly seeking to solve his problem of possessing no (indigenous) manpow-
er by recruiting the French soldiers, but this number was a few times more
than he had requested. The French actually meant to intimidate King
Narai into allowing them to garrison the most important ports of Siam,
Bangkok and Mergui.66 The presence of the French troops caused increas-
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 129

ing friction between the French and the population, indigenous and for-
eign, in and around the capital city. Undoubtedly, the Siamese officials
were deeply disturbed by the prospect of foreign troops in charge of the
defence of the kingdom. The Dutch reported that many of these soldiers
had been left there with nothing and had to beg or steal to survive. Keijts
remarked, ‘the impudent wantonness of the French is unbearable even for
this simple national character [the Siamese]’. Local women were ‘publicly
caught, abused, and raped on the street’ by these soldiers. Consequently,
the land and water gates, which usually remained open, were closed and
guarded. The VOC handed in a written protest and then presented an
oral petition during an audience at court after Keijts and his assistant, Jan
Wagensvelt, returning from the warehouse Amsterdam to the capital, had
been ‘illegally’ searched—a breach of their immunity—in public by fully
armed French soldiers. On that occasion their protest counted ‘no more
than those of the Siamese women’. Later, a ship of the CIO was similarly
inspected, but the Dutch believed that this was staged to cover the French
mishandling of the Dutch. The French then sent the French Governor of
Phitsanulok, René Charbonneur (formerly Governor of Phuket), to ask
for a reconciliation with the Opperhoofd. The French Company men even
came to visit the Dutch lodge. Keijts believed that they might have felt
compelled to seek reconciliation because King Narai was very angry about
what their troops had done.67 Likewise, the heads of the Portuguese gar-
rison in Ayutthaya could not get along with the French commanders to
whom they had to submit. Serious frictions led to the King’s decision that
the French commander, De Forbin, and his Portuguese counterpart,
Ferdanabo, were to be banished from his service. The Dutch said that De
Forbin was ‘expelled’ from the country, but the Frenchman wrote in his
memoir that, being tired of the destitution of life in Siam and ‘the malice
of the minister [Phaulkon]’, he had asked to be released from King Narai’s
service and for permission to return to France.68 Ferdanabo was sent to
Phitsanulok. A series of exemplary punishments was performed on minor
officers on both sides. They included the chopping-off of hands (which
were then hung around their necks), noses, and ears, or the branding of
cheeks.69

King Narai’s Diplomacy

For the VOC employees in King Narai’s Siam, diplomatic exchange and
participation in court ceremony had ceased to be the ‘decisive’ indications
for Dutch status in the eye of the Siamese court. Nor did these occasions
any longer serve as the most important means to access the King of Siam.
The Dutch even discarded Phaulkon’s suggestion that an embassy sent by
130 CHAPTER FIVE

the Prince of Orange would be appreciated by King Narai. The Company

reports of this reign do not contain ‘detailed’ descriptions of receptions of
any other embassy either; Siamese diplomatic protocol had become less
enchanting to the Dutch. Despite the dimming of its magic, diplomacy
remained one of the most important clues the Dutch had by which to
understand the situation in Siam, for the lively diplomatic activities not
only exposed King Narai’s personal ambitions, they revealed the coincid-
ing commercial and political dynamics of Asia. After all, diplomacy main-
tained its traditional function as a solution to the recurring conflicts
between the Dutch and the Siamese. As in the 1660s and 1680s, Dutch
and Siamese envoys travelled between Ayutthaya and Batavia to seek
reconciliation.70
The exchanges of letters and gifts between the VOC and the Siamese
court continued on a regular basis. Whereas the contents of the letters
from the Governor-General to the King were mostly restrained by formal-
ity, the gifts in exchange often generated small but recurrent disagree-
ments, which wasted the time and energy of both sides. In 1665, when
the court refused to accept Batavia’s gifts, Enoch Poolvoet (1662-3; 1664-
8) ascribed this diplomatic failure to the fact that the ‘greedy’ King Narai
valued the Dutch presents ‘too lowly’. He recommended that in future
Batavia send the following as gifts: gold chains and diamond rings of con-
siderable value, Indian textiles, sandalwood, Persian rose-water, and some
spices.71 In 1670, the Ayutthaya office asked the High Government to
stop sending small amounts of spices as gifts to the court, but to send
either a large amount or none at all. By then, the Company clearly no
longer considered the King of Siam one of its most important diplomat-
ic partners, but its employees in Ayutthaya still had to worry about their
prestige at court, because the letters and gifts from the Governor-General
were presented to the King (or more likely, via the Phrakhlang) in the
presence of ‘other foreigners’.72 In 1672, the VOC even negotiated about
the nature of the return gifts from the Siamese court. When King Narai
generously wanted to give elephants, Batavia asked instead for tin or ele-
phants’ teeth because, as it claimed, its Siam-bound vessel was a warship
and could not transport the animals, and presumably because the latter
two products were more saleable.73
King Narai continued the tradition of sending tributary missions to
China which was now under Qing rule: in 1659, 1663 (twice), 1664, and
1665.74 Dutch archival documents record that, in 1674, the Siamese court
received a missive from the Chinese Emperor and an imperial seal in gold,
stating that the officials in Canton were no longer allowed to open and
translate the letters from the Siamese court to Peking.75 In 1662, King
Narai’s warm welcome of the envoys of Zheng Chenggong, who had
taken Formosa from the VOC, really disturbed the Dutch. The Dutch
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 131

perceived the King’s cordial welcome of their fierce enemy’s envoys to be

an insult, if not an outright breach in Dutch-Siamese relations. They
must have also been afraid that the bond between Ayutthaya and Formosa
would strengthen Siamese competition in the East Asia trade. The Dutch
remarked that the King was motivated to weave this diplomatic tie with
the Chinese warlord because his treasury was empty, drained by his mili-
tary campaigns in the north.76
The VOC paid special attention to Siam’s relations with the polities in
and around the Malay Peninsula, which the Company considered its
sphere of interest and influence, in order to be well aware of or predict the
situation in the region. In 1661, the King’s envoys returned from Aceh
with complaints about how badly they had been treated by the court
there. The Dutch, who would have little to gain from any direct trade co-
operation between the polities in this region, deemed that the attempt by
Ayutthaya to cultivate a good relationship with Aceh had reached a dead-
lock.77
The alternations between war and tributary mission remained the main
feature of the unstable relations between Ayutthaya and its vassals—rela-
tions, in which the Dutch also played an important role. In July 1662,
two ambassadors from Kedah arrived in the Siamese capital with letters
and gifts including the bunga mas dan perak. They used this opportunity
to make a complaint in the presence of King Narai that the Dutch in
Malacca had blockaded their river—an experience which Ayutthaya was
soon to face—and consequently ruined their trade to the extent that, as
they put it, the local people almost went naked because of the lack of
cloth as the siege had scared the Indian merchants away. On this issue,
King Narai displayed no intention of solving his vassal’s problem and to
put himself at odds with the Dutch.
In 1676, the eldest son of the late ‘King’ of Songkhla arrived in
Ayutthaya with the purpose of asking King Narai’s endorsement of his
succession claim, over which he and his brothers were disputing. The
King was very pleased with his request, crowned him with the title of ‘Oja
Sasultan’, and showered him many presents. At his request, the Dutch
went to greet the heir of Songkhla with proper gifts. He in his turn prom-
ised that from now on all the tin from Songkhla would be sent to the
Company residents in Ligor. The Dutch hoped that, since Songkhla and
Pattani had re-submitted themselves, the situation would now be
favourable to their tin trade in the south. Obviously, foreigners also used
the Ayutthaya court as a place to promote their own cause.
King Narai’s fame went as far afield as West Borneo. The Dutch record
that in 1662 an envoy from Sukadana came to present King Narai and the
Phrakhlang with gold-engraved letters and gifts, including some rough
diamonds, for which this polity was reputed. Having shrugged off the
132 CHAPTER FIVE

lordship of Mataram, the ruler of Sukadana was now seeking protection

from Siam. In order to prove his sincerity, he sent his son-in-law to be
held hostage at the Ayutthayan court.78 Sukadana was typically a less pow-
erful state which fluctuated between independence and vassalage to dif-
ferent more powerful rulers in South-East Asia. Yet, in this case, the ques-
tion as to who was the suzerain of whom drove even landed powers situ-
ated so far from each other as Ayutthaya on the Mainland and Mataram
in Java into a virtual conflict of interest.
In the 1680s, the relationship between the Siamese court and the VOC
went through another rough patch, partly as a result of the disputes over
the ‘vassals’. In 1681, Ayutthaya accepted from Jambi, one of its tradi-
tional vassals on Sumatra, the tributary gifts which included a large quan-
tity of pepper. A year later, King Narai’s envoys to Jambi came back with,
again, pepper as ‘return gift’ from the Sultan. The VOC protested and
informed the Siamese court that Jambi had already submitted to the
Sultan of Mataram, and, more importantly, had given the exclusive rights
to the pepper trade to the Company. Exacerbating the situation, the
Dutch announced their intention to conquer Siak in Sumatra, which was
also considered a vassal of Siam. Any actual confrontation between
Ayutthaya and the VOC was avoided, after the ruler of Jambi had preyed
on Siamese ships, thereby breaching his relationship with King Narai. But
Batavia’s threat to attack Siak still provoked Phaulkon to fire a warning
shot over Dutch bows.79 As the tension was rising, the matter was even
more complicated by a rumour ‘spread by the French’ that the VOC was
hatching a plot against Siam. The monarch decided to send an embassy
to Batavia in 1686 to seek clarification on the state of the Siamese-Dutch
relationship. His ambassador, Okluang Chula, was well received in
Batavia and returned convinced that the rumour was completely
ungrounded. Consequently King Narai rewarded both Chula and Opper-
hoofd Keijts for their contributions to the successful crisis management.80
In the 1680s, the Dutch saw King Narai’s diplomacy put on another
level. The relative stability of the later years of the previous decade had
allowed the King to indulge his personal fascination with the wider world
even more intensively. The 1680s were marked with the sending and/or
receiving of embassies to and from new destinations, especially Portugal,
Persia, and France. It is not within the scope of this work to study these
embassies in detail; most of these have been studied elsewhere as well as
the available sources allow.81 Here I want to emphasize some relevant
aspects of these visits and the Dutch reactions to them.
In 1684, King Narai sent an embassy to Portugal via Goa, but it turned
out to be an abortive one as it suffered a shipwreck off Agulhas Point in
April 1686. The survivors of this unfortunate voyage were taken care of
by the Dutch settlement at the Cape of Good Hope and brought back to
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 133

Siam via Batavia by the VOC ships the following year. An incomplete
piece of a rough French translation of the instructions given to the
Siamese ambassador to Portugal survives from this embassy. This docu-
ment, found in the archive of the Missions Étrangères in Paris, shows how
the envoys were prepared to answer anticipated questions concerning
Siam by the Portuguese court, such as information about its territory and
connections with its neighbouring polities, the commodities available, its
contacts with foreign merchants, and its military capacity. Some of the
proposed answers were vague and aimed more at impressing the Portu-
guese. But they also reflected how the Siamese thought of themselves or
wanted to be represented. Michael Smithies and Dhiravat comment that
the very fact that the French missionaries were able to lay their hands on
this document, and find the time to translate it in part, indicates that
‘their spy service was excellent’.82 Nevertheless, the VOC Opperhoofd
mentioned that he had seen these instructions as well.83 Indeed, if we look
at Dutch experiences at the Siamese court, such as what happened during
the visit of the Portuguese embassy in 1639, we must assume that an
excellent spy service was not a French prerogative. A secret at the
Ayutthayan court seemed to be the hardest thing to keep.
Despite the wane of Portuguese influence, the VOC factory kept a
close watch on their affairs in Siam. In May 1685, a letter to Batavia
reported the solemn reception in Lopburi of the Portuguese embassy sent
by the Viceroy of Goa at the behest of the King of Portugal. The ambas-
sador’s entourage was welcomed and accompanied by an elephant parade,
and by the Moors and other soldiers. Keijts noted that by Phaulkon’s
arrangement, the Portuguese were allowed to enter the court in stockings
and shoes and to sit on chairs and wear hats. Actually, as we shall see in
the following paragraph, the French had introduced European diplomat-
ic etiquette to Narai’s court at an earlier stage. The dialogue between the
ambassador and King Narai was supervised by the Greek grandee himself,
while this process would usually have required a Phrakhlang Minister and
an interpreter. The aims of the mission were threefold. First, the
Portuguese requested the right to trade freely in Siamese goods, except for
those subject to royal monopolies. Secondly, Goa asked that the
Portuguese and those under the command of the Captain-Major in
Ayutthaya could be prosecuted by him (as the head of the community)
and not by the Siamese judicial authority; this amounted to a request for
extraterritorial rights. Lastly, the Portuguese required the right to control
the affairs of the Portuguese Christians in Ayutthaya—meaning that there
should be no subjection of Portuguese clergy in Siam to the French
Bishop.
King Narai was reportedly pleased with the presents, consisting of mir-
rors, European textiles, silver plate, gold, diamond and ruby rings, and sil-
134 CHAPTER FIVE

verware, which were valued at 5,000 rijksdaalders according to Dutch cal-

culations. Besides these, the Ambassador personally presented the King
with two peacocks and a curiosity described as a ‘life-size statue of a
female made of metal-mesh that, by concealed wheels, could move, and
thus proudly showed its jewels as well as making a bow’. The Dutch also
mentioned that the French Bishop Louis Laneau, ‘who constantly kept
his eye on everything at the court’, rushed in to see the King after he had
heard of the Portuguese request regarding the authority of the church. He
claimed that the credentials of the Portuguese Ambassador were not valid
and that the latter had deceived the King. Nevertheless, King Narai dis-
regarded these accusations.84 Ultimately, the French had nothing to fear
because only the first of the three Portuguese requests—the right to trade
freely in Siam—was actually granted. Still, King Narai richly rewarded
the Portuguese with reciprocal gifts consisting of, among other items,
lower-body garments with gold buttons, a gold kris, a gold cup with cover
and plate.
All this was fairly trivial, in comparison with the ‘real sensations’ of
Narai’s diplomacy, namely his successful diplomatic exchange with Shah
Sulaiman and Louis XIV. King Narai was the first to initiate the exchange
of embassies with Safavid Persia; it is highly likely the idea was promoted
by the Persian faction at court. He sent envoys to Isfahan in 1669, 1681-
2, and 1684. Before the exchange of embassies between Siam and France
came to fruition in the 1680s, King Narai had long before expressed his
wish to send envoys to Louis XIV and Pope Clement IX, after he had
received letters and gifts from both rulers in 1673, handed to him by the
agents of the Missions Étrangères led by Pallu. Both formally thanked King
Narai for providing protection to the French priests and urged him to
preserve the freedom with which he permitted them to carry on their
work; neither of them invited the King to convert. On this occasion,
Bishop Pallu asked to be treated as a quasi-ambassador and to present the
letters in a public audience.85 The actual reception took place only six
months later after long disputes over protocol between the French priests
and the Siamese courtiers. King Narai eventually allowed the priests to
appear before him as they had demanded, sitting on a richly embroidered
carpet, wearing their shoes, and behaving in the European manner.86 It
took several years before the Siamese court and the French priests man-
aged to dispatch the first embassy to France. Unfortunately this mission
of 1680 suffered a shipwreck. The following embassies of 1684 and 1686
reached Europe and returned to Ayutthaya with the French embassies.
The year 1685 saw Narai’s initiatives bear fruit when embassies
from the French King and the Persian ruler arrived in his kingdom for the
first time. Both embassies were celebrated in the accounts written by
those who took part in them, such as Ibn Muhammad Ibrahim, the
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 135

Chevalier De Chaumont and the Abbé De Choisy. A few similarities

between the two missions should be mentioned here, for they also point
to their differences from the Dutch behaviour and attitudes towards
Siam. On the one hand, the French and the Persians arrived assuming
that the political and cultural superiority of their rulers and faiths ‘would
influence’ the Thai. Consequently, they challenged Thai protocol
and religion. They hoped to persuade King Narai to convert to
Christianity and Islam, respectively. On the other hand, their accounts
show that they tended to believe to ‘have influenced’ King Narai’s life-
style and thoughts.
Both the French and Persian envoys were certainly received with great
magnificence, as their presence was essential to court propaganda. Yet,
their claims to have been accorded great honour never before given to any
other nations must be regarded with caution. The Dutch, and I suspect
some other nations, had claimed the same before. After all, this kind of
statement seems almost a recurring pattern of writing an embassy
account. The French believed that so much honour was given to them
because
[King Narai] was well aware how much the king of France, both through his
power and his personal merit, ranked above other kings, and he did not
think it possible to give too many marks of distinction to his Ambassador.
… it is said that some among them [the officials] were muttering and caus-
ing difficulties about receiving the Ambassador, alleging that such things had
never been done for the ambassadors of the Emperor of China nor for those
of the Great Mogul and the King of Persia.87

Similarly, Ibn Muhammad Ibrahim understood the meaning of the

Persian embassy to be to grace the King of Siam with the mercy of the
Shah, as well as to enlighten the Siamese ‘infidels’. Hence, a comparable
view to that of the French can be found in The Ship of Sulaiman: ‘Good
rulers, therefore, take a further step on the path toward world harmony.
With ambassadors and delegations as their key, they unlock the doors of
world-wide friendship. Such was the intent of the Siamese king.’ The
author further presents King Narai as being
overawed seeing that our king [the Shah] … had risen into the Heavens of
eternal sovereignty … Thereupon, the Siamese monarch hastened to open
the accounts of friendship and affection, ‘May Allah bless him and guide
him into the fold of Islam’. … The letter of favour from our own king …
indeed is from the mighty hand of Sulaiman and comes in the name of God,
the merciful, the compassionate, it is a bright token of kindness.
Having described the Thai way of showing respect to their idols and
King, Ibn Muhammad Ibrahim commented: ‘Now these infidels were
genuinely happy at heart for at last they were worshipping before the true
word [Sulaiman’s letter] and not before their vain idols.’88
136 CHAPTER FIVE

These French and Persian writers believed or wanted to make their

readers at home believe that their nation alone was able to impose its own
protocol on that of the Siamese. Before the audience of welcome, the
French Ambassadors summoned the Siamese officials to instruct them in
Thai court protocol. De Chaumont found it unacceptable and insisted to
Phaulkon on the French practice being observed. The self-perception of
the French envoys was made clear here by De Choisy: ‘If they [the
Siamese] are inflexible, and protest that the English and the Dutch have
never made any difficulty about this, we shall tell them that there is a
world of difference between a captain of the king’s warship and all those
merchants who run about the Indies.’89 This is reminiscent of the attitude
of the Portuguese Ambassador in 1639. The Persians, too, insisted on
behaving in their own way during the audience with King Narai. To cut
a long story short, both the French and Persian Ambassadors were allowed
to deliver the letters from Louis XIV and Shah Sulaiman to King Narai
themselves and to pay homage according to their own custom.90 (In view
of the Dutch experience, according to Siamese custom, which considered
the letter containing the words of the foreign ruler more important than
the ambassador, the letter would have been collected by the court and
translated in a ceremony involving both sides prior to the audience with
the King.) These concessions plus the receptions of the State letters from
France and the Vatican in 1673 and the Portuguese embassy in 1685 are
clear indications of Narai’s ‘diplomatic tolerance’. Yet, it can be said that
these modifications in protocol, partly encouraged by the French priests
and Phaulkon, did not occur without causing the King’s hesitation and
arousing irritation among his courtiers.91
Despite his many other flaws, judging by their norms, the French
diplomats still viewed King Narai as a ‘good’ King, very much because he
was interested in the God of the Christians, open to the world, that is
Europe, and, of course, friendly to the French. De Chaumont described
Narai in the following way:
His inclinations are royal, he is courageous, a great politician, governing
alone, magnificent, liberal, a lover of arts, in a word, a prince, who (by the
strength of his genius) has freed himself from diverse customs which he
found in his kingdom, borrowing of foreign countries, and especially of
Europe whatsoever he thought might most contribute to the honour and
happiness of his reign.92
Furthermore, De Chaumont believed that the French priests had altered
Narai’s idea of kingship. While traditionally the Siamese Kings were not
wont to appear in public, King Narai became affable and more accessible
to strangers because the French priests had taught him about the power
and manner of the French Government and encouraged him to follow the
custom of European kings.93
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 137

Ibn Muhammad Ibrahim went even beyond that. Portraying Narai as

an ‘extreme iranophile’,94 the Persian writer emphasized throughout his
account the significance of the Persian community in Siam and Persian
influence on the ruler in many aspects. King Narai was reportedly
brought up with Persian food, wore Persian clothes, employed Persian
guards, and sanctioned the public mourning ceremony of the Shi’ites in
Ayutthaya. The late Okphra Sinaowarat or Aqa Muhammad had report-
edly instructed the ruler about ‘all the foreign men of importance in the
world’, and ‘refinement of character, management of the household and
governing cities’. The author also claimed that the Persians had brought
the King to the throne; which is not substantiated by Dutch sources.95
Unfortunately, by the time of his arrival, the Persian community in
Ayutthaya had lost its influence on and favour with King Narai. Ibn
Muhammad Ibrahim blamed this on both the misconduct of some
Persians and the ‘sly, ill-begotten Frank minister’, Phaulkon—the
Persians’ worst enemy and the best friend of the French. He also accused
the Greek of weakening Narai’s character and causing him to stray from
the straight and narrow path of practising justice.96
Clearly, both the French and the Persian embassies of 1685 failed to
achieve their aims, open and alleged respectively, to convert King Narai
to their religion. Not only did they mistake his openness to and curiosity
about the outside world for spiritual longing, but they also misinterpret-
ed the ‘non-statutory aspects’97 of the reception, namely compromises in
the Siamese diplomatic protocol for the French and Persian ones which
King Narai permitted, as him being in awe of their rulers. The Dutch
would have understood better that these were the signs of the King’s
favour. But then again, their mindset was different from that of the
French and the Persians. After all, Republican Dutch Company servants
were not much interested in propagating the fame of their prince and
their religion.
If we take into consideration the other sources—admitting that they
are not always non-partisan—to help interpret the effects of the Persian
embassy on King Narai, we also get quite a different picture from that
presented in The Ship of Sulaiman, which glorifies the success of the mis-
sion. The French in Ayutthaya heard that King Narai had been angered
by the behaviour of the Persians from the early days just after their arrival
in Tenasserim.98 Considering that Ibn Muhammad Ibrahim repeatedly
expressed his contempt for Siamese customs and manners, the King may
well have been irritated with the non-compliant attitudes of the Persians
towards local protocol and situations. In the aftermath of the grand recep-
tion as described in The Ship of Sulaiman, the VOC men in Siam report-
ed having paid a visit to the ‘melancholic suite’ of the Persian embassy in
Lopburi. It was in the interests of the Dutch to treat these envoys well,
138 CHAPTER FIVE

since Persia was an important trading partner of the Company. The

Persian Ambassador, Ibrahim Beg, complained that no one in Siam other
than the Dutch had honoured his presence. The Opperhoofd gave the
Persians the required pass for their return journey, as well as less valuable
items, such as preserved nutmeg, six birds of paradise, and as much cloves
and mace as the Dutch had in stock. His generosity extended only so far
and he gave all kinds of excuses for not lending money to this financially
troubled embassy, which seems to have failed to obtain any help from
King Narai.99
Was King Narai deceived by all the boasting about the greatness of
Louis XIV which the French priests and diplomats were feeding him?
According to Keijts, a French diplomat presented King Narai with a life-
size portrait of the French King and said: ‘Your Majesty, here is present-
ed to you the most prominent prince ruling over the whole Christian
world.’ Much to the satisfaction of the Dutchman, King Narai sarcastical-
ly replied: ‘Mister Ambassador, you forget God in Heaven.’100 The sense
of cultural and political superiority displayed by the French and Persian
envoys was encountered with pragmatism by the Siamese King, who prof-
ited from the ‘ceremonial meaning of these visits’.101 By conceding some
changes in the diplomatic protocol, Narai allowed these embassies to be
successful and achieved his goal not only to enhance his prestige among
his own people but also to have his name perpetuated in the histories of
France and Persia.
Keijts was admittedly impressed by the processions which escorted the
French ambassadors to court, although he did not bother documenting
them in detail. What interested him, and his superiors in Batavia, more
was the ‘business’ side of the embassies. The Dutch were determined to
inquire into the purpose of the mission, and the kind and value of the
gifts to King Narai.
The Dutch were aware that the French embassy of 1685 had two pur-
poses: to convert King Narai to Roman Catholicism and to negotiate a
commercial treaty with Siam. They had direct access to information
about the French presents because two of their men, Daniel Broche-
bourde and the German pyrotechnist Hans Jürgen Mets, were on loan to
the court and commissioned by the King to help assess the value of the
said presents. These included, among other items, tapestries of different
sizes, guns, mirrors, hanging clocks, an octagonal sundial, and a portrait
of Louis XIV. The VOC men thought that the French priests managed to
have an excessive value put on these presents. They tried to protest about
it, presumably not only because they believed that the high estimates did
injustice to King Narai, but also because the ‘overpricing’ of the French
gifts was unfair to themselves, who constantly complained that the court
set too scant a value on their presents. Under the circumstances, their
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 139

protest was not heard; the Siamese were determined to have this French
embassy succeed.102
The reception of the second French embassy in 1687, led by La
Loubère, was briefly commented on by Keijts as ‘less grand’ than the pre-
vious one. Still, his short report on this embassy gives a rather vivid pic-
ture of how the Dutch tried to wheedle information about the French
(which was not necessarily correct), and of who their informants were.
Keijts witnessed the ever closer union between the French and Phaulkon
when La Loubère presented the Greek grandee with the star of the Order
of St Michel in the name of the King of France. Revealing his merchant’s
nature, Keijts was more interested in estimating the price of the star,
rather than seeing it as a mark of royal favour and prestige. Here again,
the Dutch disputed the French estimate of the star at 20,000 rijksdaalders;
they bluntly valued it at less than 1,000. Phaulkon’s Portuguese secretary
told the Dutch that the French and the Siamese had to re-negotiate the
contents of the treaty after De Chaumont had failed to convince Louis
XIV of the results of his mission. The Portuguese Ambassador sent by the
Cambodian court, who had been held in Ayutthaya against his will,
informed the Dutch that the French were allowed to establish a lodge,
some reported a fortress, in Phuket and even said that a Portuguese inter-
preter had seen the model for it.103
King Narai’s diplomatic expansion was so salient that the VOC men in
Siam felt obliged to find an explanation for it. Therefore, at the end of
1685, Keijts reported on the different views he had gathered from
Europeans living in Siam—at least his informants were mostly
Europeans—and added his own opinion. Some people surmised that
King Narai, with his treasury filled and realizing that he was growing old
without an able heir, wanted to leave a glorious name to posterity.
Another view was that the King, having grown tired of the Dutch, was
trying to attach himself to other European rulers so that he could depend
on their help, or protection, should there be a rupture in relations with
Batavia. In employing so many Europeans and rewarding them hand-
somely, the King hoped to enjoy an appeasement with all fellow-princes
and foreigners so as to free Siam from the threat of war with other
nations. According to other informants, the King was deceived into this
by the cunning French Bishop Laneau, who was rumoured to have
delivered to the King a forged letter from the Pope and another from
Louis XIV (probably this referred to when he and Pallu delivered the
letters in 1673). This had resulted in King Narai’s decision to send an
embassy to France. Keijts said that he could not verify whether the two
letters were indeed forged or genuine. But the fact that the letters had not
been accompanied by any gifts made them suspicious. Lastly, it was sug-
gested that all this diplomatic activity was serving the ‘ambitious plan’ of
140 CHAPTER FIVE

Phaulkon, who knew how to influence the King, to rule Siam. The
French priests and Phaulkon were exploiting King Narai’s craving for
international fame.
Keijts did not believe that the rulers of France, Portugal, and Persia
would assist Siam against the VOC. It was also unlikely that King Narai
would put himself under Louis XIV’s ‘protection’ because he would not
wish to forfeit the traditional suzerainty of the Chinese Emperor, nor
would it accord with his concept of glory. Furthermore, the Opperhoofd
believed that the King would not achieve anything significant by em-
ploying the ‘100-110 European scoundrels and vagabonds who had run
away from their masters’. The Dutchman did not consider the ambi-
tion ascribed to Phaulkon at all plausible, because King Narai still
had ‘a brother’ who was presumed to succeed him. Keijts himself
tended to believe that the King was motivated by his pride prompted
by the ‘flatteries’ at court.104 This comment, though not pleasant, should
not be dismissed. It suggests two main conditions: King Narai was
longing for international fame and people around him were ready to pro-
mote it.

The Material World of King Narai

An interest in the materiality of power was a significant characteristic not

only for the ruler of a South-East Asian port-polity, as the King of
Ayutthaya, but a common trend in any royal court where ‘power’ needed
to be propped up by ‘pomp’. In daily life, King Narai surrounded himself
with imported objects which served to distinguish him from the rest of
society. Whereas the French actively introduced European material cul-
ture and ideas to the King, the Dutch played a more passive role as sup-
pliers of foreign goods in compliance with the court’s orders. Yet, in this
capacity, they were no less important in their contribution to the expan-
sion of his material world.
The King’s lists of imported foreign items show valuable, exotic as well
as intellectual objects. The VOC men had been prepared to adapt quick-
ly to the exigent new reign. While still a prince, Narai had ordered items
of various sorts from the Company: valuable objects such as red coral,
amber, different sorts of textiles, gold buttons, diamond rings, a gold
sword, and coloured enamelled knick-knacks, and also products of
Western technology such as a compass, a spyglass, an hourglass, and
Dutch paper.105 His interest also extended to exotic creatures. For exam-
ple, in 1680, the Dutch supplied him with live birds, which, though
‘trifles’, pleased him very much. The court also demanded walnut and
clove trees which were to be planted in the grounds of the King’s new
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 141

palace at Lopburi.106 Even Dutch delicacies, such as cheese, ham, smoked

meat, dried herring, wine, and vinegar, were part of the royal orders.107
Certainly, the court was also supplied with rarities via other foreign
agencies and by its own servants who were sent overseas to procure these
objects. The VOC factory, however, had a special position because the
King often sent for objects and skills which were to be obtained in
Batavia, such as enamelling a sword scabbard, repairing a clock, and mak-
ing body armour (after his own models). The Dutch paid special atten-
tion when the order concerned the objects required for the King’s person-
al use. Hats with a high crown were expressly requested from Batavia by
the Opperhoofd because the King liked to wear this kind of hat on hunt-
ing trips. Likewise, a spyglass ‘in gold’ was repeatedly requested by the
Ayutthaya office because it was intended for the King’s own use. The
court also asked for eye-glasses specified for people of ‘forty to fifty and
sixty years old’, presumably for the King’s inner circle or even himself
since he was in his early forties by that time.108
In 1685, Faa expressly instructed his successor, Keijts, to preserve the
King’s favour by means of giving ‘rare trifles’.109 But surely even before
that, the VOC in Ayutthaya had long adopted the ‘politics of rarities’ as
part of its policy. As early as 1677, Opperhoofd Dirk de Jongh (1676-7)
had learnt of the fascination of Narai and his court with glassware; con-
sequently, he recommended the Company supply the King with this,
instead of the gold chains which were valuable but apparently too plain.110
Even earlier in 1657, King Narai had ordered more than four hundred
glass mirrors for his new palace from the Dutch.111 He also used other
imported glassware and marble sculptures to decorate the ‘pagodas’.112 Of
course, not every wish could be fulfilled. In 1687, Keijts had to explain
to the Siamese court why the Dutch could not supply glass furniture
according to the Siamese models supplied. He tried to make the Siamese
understand how European society functioned: ‘Each country had its own
secret techniques, for which one could give no precise reasons. For exam-
ple, as the Phrakhlang knew, people in a certain place in Italy could pro-
duce good and big mirrors and other artistic glassware.’113 That was to say
that making glassware was beyond Dutch expertise, which was not true
but rather an excuse.
Towards the end of his reign, the tastes of King Narai developed more
fancifully, and specifically, than ever. Besides the glass furniture men-
tioned, he ordered a stone threshold and fountain bowl from Coro-
mandel, Italian paving stones, paper books and clocks from Holland, and
two ostriches from the Cape of Good Hope from the VOC. Keijts com-
plained to the Governor-General that the enthusiasm for curiosities of the
Siamese was so overwhelming that they wanted to have ‘everything’ the
Dutch had in their possession in their lodge. The Ayutthaya office even-
142 CHAPTER FIVE

tually asked Batavia to send ‘rare little things’ like some marine plants
which were easy to procure.114
Equally importantly, the VOC was also the most significant supplier of
craftsmen—some skilled, some useless—to the Siamese court. These
VOC craftsmen had a myriad of different experiences in Siam. A hatter
was sent back to Batavia because there was no wool for him to work with.
A pyrotechnist was borrowed by the King’s army to supervise the prepa-
ration of ammunition. The carpenter who did not receive a salary from
the Company but directly from the court was often kept waiting desper-
ately for his payment. The same happened to the glass-blower Nathaniel
Castelaar, who had first impressively demonstrated his art in front of
many courtiers at Phaulkon’s house in Lopburi (where he was lodged as
well), but later behaved badly in protest because he, too, did not receive
any money from the court.115 A Dutch constable was used as a ‘pilot’ on
a royal junk to Bengal. The court sent a stonemason back to Batavia. He
was trained in stone carving, whereas the Siamese needed a person skilled
for quarrying stone from the mountains.116 The surgeon Daniel
Brochebourde fared best among these borrowed specialists, as he became
a trusted courtier of King Narai. Phaulkon had actually also borrowed
another VOC surgeon for royal service, but this Willem Gerritsz was sent
back because he was indiscreet in his speech.117 The list of the imported
skilled persons described here mirrors the lack of specialists or the need
for different techniques in these fields in Siam.
There are plenty of clues but it is difficult to determine how well
Western knowledge was transmitted to Siam. The agencies for such
knowledge dissemination, such as the VOC, did not really intend to
propagate Western achievement to any greater extent than it was needed
to win the King’s favour. When King Narai asked for an ‘able’ gun caster
and an experienced gunner from Batavia, the Company men in Siam
deliberately advised the Governor-General to send someone with at least
‘some skill’ in shooting.118 Understandably, the Dutch were not keen on
sharing their military secrets with the Siamese.
Traditionally, the court of Ayutthaya had only two alleys open for pro-
cessing foreign knowledge: information gathering by its men travelling
abroad, and the employment of foreign experts. Exceptional attempts
were made by King Narai to learn from the outside world by sending his
own men to be trained overseas. According to the Dutch, the Ambassador
to Batavia in 1686, Okphra Chula, came back to report to the King on
the ‘well-ordered houses and the variety of craftsmanship’ of that exem-
plary colonial city. As a result of that report, the Siamese court decided to
send twelve young Siamese men to Batavia to ‘study abroad’: four of them
to learn brick-laying, four to learn to be carpenters, and the other four to
become smiths. The Ayutthaya comptoir recommended the High Govern-
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 143

ment acquiesce in this favour so that in future it would have an excuse no

longer to send Dutch craftsmen to Siam.119 Later in early 1688, King
Narai sent five young sons of officials to study at the Collège Louis-le-
Grand in France to learn the culture of that country.120
Regarding the supply of luxury and exotic items which their Company
often presented as ‘gifts’, the Dutch were torn between two choices, win-
ning the King’s favour for their business and the fear of incurring expens-
es, not to mention losses. The Dutch did not necessarily blame the loss
suffered on the gifts given to the King on his ‘avarice’. They were well-
acquainted with the inequities of the court pricing system, which usually
estimated the price of their gifts more cheaply than their original cost.121
Even possessed of this knowledge, the Dutch also knew that should they
fail to satisfy the King’s requirements, their competitors would be willing
to step into the breach. For instance, after the Dutch had repeatedly made
excuses for not being able to provide an engineer, the Siamese court final-
ly dropped its request because the French King sent two experts.122
Phaulkon himself by no means failed to recognize the importance of the
‘politics of rarities’ at King Narai’s court and was quick to adopt it as one
of his own manoeuvres. The VOC men in Ayutthaya reported that the
Greek minister sent royal factors to England aboard an English ship to
acquire some rarities for the King.123 Apparently, Phaulkon could use his
English and French connections and thereby avoid being completely
dependent on the VOC for the supply of valued foreign goods.
The presence of Phaulkon as well as the French at court contributed a
great deal to widening the scope of the King’s interest in Europe. The
French brought with them European material culture, not only in small
items but also in seemingly big concepts. In early 1687, the Dutch report-
ed that King Narai had been focusing on the building of fortresses on
each side of Bangkok. Keijts thought that the reasons which seemed to
motivate the King to build these fortresses were ‘frivolous’ rather than
well grounded, because he considered it impossible that anyone would
come to attack Ayutthaya through such a shallow, swiftly flowing river
(presumably he was thinking of large-size, sea-going European ships). He
guessed that ‘it was rather a pompous idea of some Europeans who made
a profit out of this plan under the pretext of its significance’.124 But Keijts
overlooked the fact that these fortresses were meant to display King
Narai’s grandeur.

King Narai’s Intellectual World

King Narai and his people were living in a period in which their world
was made larger by the growing international trade of Ayutthaya, by its
144 CHAPTER FIVE

widening access to foreign technology, such as Western navigational and

military knowledge, and, to a degree, by a growing interest about others.
Besides his ability to afford anything thanks to his exalted position, the
King himself was ‘curious to the highest degree’, as described by La
Loubère.125 He was a ruler who respected scholarship, always keeping his
teacher and court astrologer Phra Horathibodi by his side, even during an
interview with the French diplomats.126
Admittedly, such information on his intellectual interests was not
reflected in contemporary Dutch documents. This lack may be explained
by the primarily commercial mindset of the Dutch observers and their
limited personal relations with the monarch, in comparison to the
French, who had the priests and Phaulkon as their major informants. The
VOC had little to offer for the comfort of his soul, as this was not the pur-
pose of its existence, or for his curiosity about the new sciences, except
perhaps in some technology. But that does not mean that they were not
well aware of the reactions of his direct environment to his foibles.
King Narai did not enjoy a reputation as a pious ruler, though he cer-
tainly could not ignore the conventional role of Siamese kingship as the
patron of Buddhism. He did not use it as the guiding policy of his reign
in the way that his father, who notably built the magnificent Wat Chai
Watthanaram outside Ayutthaya proper, had done and his immediate
successor, Phetracha, would do. Narai did have temples built and renovat-
ed but was not known for erecting any major religious edifice as a mon-
ument to his rule. He was keen on building European-style fortresses, for
the enhancement of his temporal glory. The Dutch reported in 1676 that
the King ‘lost much of his credit’ in the eyes of the Buddhist clergy when
he suspended royal participation in the annual ceremony of the Speeding
of the Outflow (of which the purpose, as the Dutch understood correct-
ly, was to release the flood water which might jeopardize the rice crop).
Towards the end of his reign, when he spent most of the year in Lopburi,
the King also reduced his public appearances, most of which involved vis-
its to and merit-making at temples in Ayutthaya.127
Narai’s seeming interest in foreign religions, Christianity and Islam as
indicated in the French accounts and The Ship of Sulaiman, may have
been part of his strategy to attract foreign contacts and assistance.
Previously, during the succession conflicts in 1656, the Malay communi-
ty in Ayutthaya supported him, partly because they believed that the
young Prince would eventually convert to Islam.128 Although a few
Frenchmen had begun to doubt whether King Narai had a real interest in
converting to Christianity at all, the key figures among them, especially
Father Guy Tachard, still nurtured hope. In 1685, the Dutch reported
that the King sent a ‘crucifix of fine massive gold, of about one forearm
high standing on a silver base’ to a Jesuit priest in Peking, Father
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 145

Fernandez who found much favour with the Chinese Emperor, to be

placed in the church there. This act had pleased the Roman Catholic cler-
gy in Ayutthaya so much they were convinced that Narai would adopt
their faith. The VOC men believed otherwise because they trusted a
report from their informant at court, Brochebourde. The surgeon, who
frequently held talks with King Narai himself, told the Company that the
King was ‘poking fun at all the priests’.129 The King sent such a precious
gift to a favourite of the Chinese Emperor as part of his attempt to pro-
mote a good relationship with China. After all, De Choisy made an inter-
esting remark:
Oh my God, how he made me feel sorry, this poor King, when I saw him
with this pomp, passing in front of 200,000 people at the river’s edge, who,
with their hands joined and their faces bowed to the earth, gave him divine
honours! How could a poor man accustomed to such adoration not conceive
of himself as being above humanity? And how difficult it will be to persuade
him to submit to all the humilities of the Christian religion!130
Probably contrary to his own intention, De Choisy’s remark suggests that
the Christian concept, according to these Western observers, would not
serve the purpose of Ayutthaya kingship. Yet, Narai’s curiosity to learn
about Christianity as a part of foreign, European culture may have been
genuine enough. The Dutch also mentioned that the French priests were
busy translating the Bible for the King but, understandably, they were
more concerned about the fact that the Roman Catholic clergy tried to
impress Narai with the alleged success of France in the war against the
Dutch Republic.131 After all, the King received the news from the outside
world attentively, and his knowledge about the European states and poli-
tics in particular impressed even La Loubère.132
King Narai’s other intellectual interests included astrology. It was
important to the life and ritual of the court and the commoners in Siam.
Every ceremonial and civil function had to begin with predictions to
assess the most auspicious moment as determined by the astrologers: the
casting of calendars, the founding of cities, coronations, funerals, the
launching of military expeditions, and suchlike. The role of astrology in
Ayutthayan society was obvious and even documented in Dutch sources.
As early as the 1620s, the Company records report that King Songtham
stopped his plan to go to war (against Cambodia) after a comet, general-
ly considered a bad omen, had appeared. It is interesting to compare the
way the Dutch and the Thai interpreted the appearance of a comet in
1680. In a matter-of-fact manner, Opperhoofd Faa described the ‘behav-
iour’ of this celestial object: ‘A star with a tail [appeared] first obscurely in
the Southeast, stretching the tail upwards, by which [it was] recognized.
[It] was seen around four o’clock in the morning. Afterwards …, accord-
ing to the report of the Dutch constable, [it was] at the bright midday,
146 CHAPTER FIVE

close to the sun, and to be seen more clearly than before.’ At the same
time, the court astrologers interpreted the comet as a negative sign and
prayed for a good outcome.133 Evidently, whereas the Dutch understood
this phenomenon from an astronomical viewpoint, the Siamese thought
in astrological terms, considering its effect on human life. Nevertheless, I
should emphasize that the Dutch observers in the 1620s and 1680s did
not ridicule the Siamese responses to celestial phenomena; they simply
reported these as matters of fact.
Under King Narai, astrology found a new use in the creation of a new
style of writing Thai history. From the fifteenth century up to then, tam-
nan (legend) was the dominant form of history writing. It blends the
travels of Buddha through time and across continents with local events
without placing them in a chronological framework. In 1681, at King
Narai’s behest, Phra Horathibodi, now composed a history which present-
ed events using the lunar calendar to provide ‘precise temporal context’.
The result was the Luang Prasoet Chronicle, the first of the phongsawadan
(dynastic history) genre, which relates the history of Ayutthaya from
1324 to 1605, in which humans (the Kings) stand central, instead of
Buddha. Ian Hodges suggests that the creation of this chronicle was
inspired by Narai’s strong interest in astrology and astronomy, and, indi-
rectly, European scientific advances.134
As was his father, King Narai was concerned with the question of time.
In 1685, Narai changed the official calendar from Chulasakkarat (the
Lesser Era–CS) to Phutthasakkarat (the Buddhist Era–BE); AD 1685 was
equal to BE 2228 instead of CS 1046. From Phaulkon, the Dutch under-
stood that the reason for this action was that the King had reached his
fifty-second year, and considered himself the ‘fifty-second King’ of Siam;
therefore, he felt compelled to follow Siamese royal tradition by doing
something which would be associated with him in posterity. Con-
sequently, this too was part of the agenda of the King’s search for glory.135
Again, the Dutch reported this change of era as a matter of fact. It was
important to them to understand the system, because the letters and other
documents from the Ayutthayan court were dated in the local fashion.
Apart from the traditional interests which the Thai Kings had in
European military and navigational technology, King Narai was interest-
ed in European astronomy and horology, and he made use of his position
to access both the knowledge and the instruments associated with them.
The ruler possessed European-style clocks which were a new form of time
measurement in Siam. They were supplied by the Dutch as early as the
1650s and later by the French.136 Unfortunately, we do not know how
much the Western system was actually used by the Ayutthayan elite. The
French Jesuit astronomers, who came to Ayutthaya with De Chaumont’s
embassy, significantly promoted the King’s fascination with Western
 OBSERVING KING NARAI’S WIDENING WORLD 147

astronomy. Having learned from their experience at the Chinese court,

they tried to sell Narai their faith through science and to conquer his soul
and his knowledge.137 Louis XIV also sent the Siamese King globes depict-
ing the heavens and earth as well as an orrery, a model displaying the rel-
ative motions of the sun, the moon, and the planets. The French at least
succeeded in capturing his fascination: Narai had two observatories built
in Ayutthaya and Lopburi for the use of the Jesuit astronomers and even
participated in their observations of lunar eclipses in the second half of
the 1680s.138 All these needed expertise and access to the latest and expen-
sive equipment. Obviously, while the VOC supplied the Siamese court
with navigational skills and time-measuring devices, it could not and did
not want to compete with the French in this field.

Conclusion

King Narai’s openness to foreignness and his search for glory in posterity
and in the wider world are central elements in the life of his court and
were evident to the Dutch observers. He wanted to experience the larger
world, which he and his country had become part of and to which they
needed to accommodate the changes it imposed upon them more empir-
ically. An important difference from King Prasatthong was that, in a con-
flict situation, rather than intimidating the VOC into concession, King
Narai sought compromise and used diplomacy as a solution. He surely
felt the rising power of the High Government in Batavia in the region.
But the growing number of foreign contacts which he had made also
reduced the dependency of Siam on the Dutch Company.
The Dutch more or less coped with the ‘demoted’ position—especial-
ly in terms of diplomatic prestige—they now acquired and were fairly sat-
isfied with their function as indispensable supplier in material and servic-
es to the court. Admittedly, in the later stages, the Dutch were affected by
the French competition, but they had learnt how to behave politically in
Siam. While the French and the Persians attempted to introduce the ‘dif-
ferent’—religion and diplomatic protocol—, the Dutch tried to adjust
and be neutral or at least non-interventionist.
After all, Narai’s foibles were short-lived. His diplomatic expansion did
not effectuate any major shift in the idea or functioning of Siamese king-
ship. It contained much of the ‘element of play’, which reflected the
King’s personal attitudes. Consequently, it survived only as long as the
King himself. His liking for foreigners was exploited. Whereas the previ-
ous Kings had used Europeans as ornaments to their grandeur and fame,
King Narai used them to exercise power as administrative officials but
quickly lost control over them. The fact that the King was dying without
148 CHAPTER FIVE

an able heir to the throne created a potential hotbed for political contests.
His kingdom was confronted not only with a possible seize of power by
the conspiracy between the French and Phaulkon, but also by one of his
leading officials, Okphra Phetracha and co-conspirators who had been
building up their force biding their time to act out the Palace Revolution
in 1688.
 CHAPTER SIX

REDEFINING THE RELATIONSHIPS:

THE DUTCH AND THE COURT OF KING PHETRACHA

Introduction

In 1688, the throne of Ayutthaya was once more contested with recourse
to violence. This time, it was usurped by one of King Narai’s most promi-
nent officials, Phra Phetracha. He fought against and triumphed over not
only rivals at court but also an external force, the French. The earlier
historiography has seen the Palace Revolution as an extreme expression
of xenophobia among the Siamese elite in response to the growing
French power in the kingdom, and its occurrence was believed to have
marked the beginning of the shift to ‘isolationism’ in Ayutthaya.
Hutchinson went so far as to accuse Siam after King Narai’s reign of hav-
ing ‘a spirit of blind and arrogant self-sufficiency’. He considered the
revolution an epoch-making event because the reactions of its connivers
were responsible for ‘an obstinate fanaticism’ in the coming centuries
which deprived Siam of the chance to learn from the progress of the
Western world.1
The recent historiography of Ayutthaya has undermined such notions
as that King Phetracha was a violently xenophobic ruler and that his reign
completely deprived Ayutthaya of its openness to the outside world.
Wyatt has pointed out that, while xenophobic sentiments were essential-
ly a factor which mobilized popular support for the 1688 Uprising, the
leaders of the movement were driven by a more pragmatic motive, name-
ly considerations of power. These members of the Siamese elite had less
to worry—in any case than the Buddhist clergy—about the presence of
the French Roman Catholic missionaries who, since their arrival in the
early 1660s, had gained almost no following among the indigenous pop-
ulation. They must have felt more threatened by the presence of the
French military force in the kingdom. Wyatt argues that Siam did not
reject the outside world but preferred a more manageable and perhaps tra-
ditional level of contact.2 By tracing the trading activities of post-1688
Siam mainly in the VOC records, Dhiravat and Remco Raben have
demonstrated that Phetracha’s kingship did not lead to isolationism in the
commercial life of Siam, but rather presented a continuation or revival of
royal trade with the commercial centres throughout Asia.3 Isolation would
have been a completely opposite mind-set to the logic of the Siamese
150 CHAPTER SIX

court which sought to accumulate wealth—the base of power—through

taxing revenues from international trade.
Admittedly, the 1688 Uprising did not usher in a social, structural rev-
olution but a change of dynasty; it indeed confirmed the existing politi-
cal culture of contest for wealth and power between the chao and the
khunnang in Ayutthaya politics.4 As had those of his predecessors, King
Phetracha’s policy concentrated on maintaining and strengthening the
centrality of kingship by accentuating the King’s patronage of Buddhism,
by instituting administrative reforms and tightening control over the offi-
cials, and by monopolizing trade. In Raben’s assessment, the reign of King
Phetracha should not be seen as a period of decline but one of ‘accommo-
dation and reform’, in which the monarch attempted to consolidate his
power and redefine his relationship with the world.5
The consolidation of royal power and the redefinition of the court’s
relationship with the world were implemented at two levels: external: for-
eign trade and relations; and internal: the political life of the Siamese
court. At the external level, there were differences from King Narai’s
reign. First, Phetracha’s martial activities were directed towards suppress-
ing the opposition to his rule, not towards expanding his territories.
Secondly, despite the continuing significance of international trade as a
source of royal power, diplomacy now lost the prominence it had accrued
during the previous reigns, as the means to define the relationships
between Ayutthaya and the outside world. Phetracha’s court was not
known for receiving or sending out any ‘grand’ embassies. Yet, the VOC
reports from the early years of the reign show a picture of a ruler who
mastered communication with the foreigners—the Dutch in this case—
in his own way. However, this image of the friendly King would soon fade
from the Dutch perception to be replaced by that of an ‘anti-European’
sceptic. This was not just a reflection of his changing relations with the
Dutch/Europeans. It was also a part of a broader transformation of King
Phetracha’s personality and policy in response to his position in internal
politics. This chapter focuses on Dutch observations of the King’s redefi-
nition of interpersonal relationships at his court—in other words, how
Phetracha, who had successfully fought his way into the centrality of pol-
itics in Siam, interacted with and tried to have control over his ‘human
environment’.

The Palace Revolution of 1688

It is not my purpose here to give a detailed reconstruction of the 1688

Palace Revolution and its immediate aftermath, especially the expulsion
of the French, as these have been attempted by other scholars using Thai,
 REDEFINING THE RELATIONSHIPS 151

French, and Dutch sources.6 By using the contemporaneous ‘Succinct

Account’ attributed to Opperhoofd Johannes Keijts, supported by his
other VOC reports, I shall try to show how the Dutch understood the
revolution, and how they perceived its effect on their relationships with
those involved in the event.7 This should serve to prepare us to compre-
hend the initial relationship between Phetracha and the Dutch as well as
intimating the troubles lying ahead.
Although the various sources do not agree in every detail concerning
the backgrounds, motives, and methods of those involved in the power
struggle of 1688, the main line of the event can be traced as follows.
During the terminal illness of King Narai between April and July 1688,
the powerful faction at court led by Okphra/Phra Phetracha and his son
Luang Sorasak succeeded in eliminating Phaulkon, the King’s ‘adoptive
son’ Phra Pi, as well as Narai’s younger half-brothers, Princes Aphaithot
and Noi. Phetracha and Sorasak had already been recognized by La
Loubère as powerful pretenders to the throne in 1687. Their family had
been allied to Narai’s family in several ways, especially via their women-
folk. Phetracha’s mother had been one of Narai’s wet nurses. One of his
sisters was a consort of Narai, whereas a sister of the King had raised
Sorasak. As the Commander of the Royal Elephants, Phetracha was well
supplied with manpower when the revolution took place. He was also
known for his devotion to Buddhism. With the overwhelming support
which Phetracha enjoyed from the khunnang as well as the sangha, who
were disturbed by the influences of Phaulkon and the French Roman
Catholics, he was able to usurp the Siamese throne without any notable
resistance.8 With his enthronement, the French-Siamese relationship
came to a bitter end: the French troops were expelled and those left
behind, being French and/or Roman Catholic, were subjected to cruel
treatment.
The ‘Succinct Account’ starts with the situation in Siam in early 1688
prior to the death of King Narai. Although the monarch was residing in
Lopburi, the city of Ayutthaya itself was unusually strongly guarded. This
ignited the rumour of the King’s demise and aroused great anxiety among
the officials. Opperhoofd Keijts believed that Phaulkon had a plan to sup-
port the King’s ‘adopted son’ claim to the throne. With the help of Phra
Pi’s father, Okkhun Kraisitthisak, the two managed to assemble up to
14,000 men. On the other side, it was to Okphra Phetracha that, accord-
ing to Keijts, the sick King had transferred the principal governing of the
kingdom. As part of his attempt ‘to quell the disorder’, Phetracha had the
‘most seditious’ people arrested, including Okphra Chula who was a
Moor, a creature of Phaulkon. There he stopped, waiting to see how
Narai’s condition developed, and consequently allowed his opponents to
go ahead with their plan.
152 CHAPTER SIX

As the King’s health deteriorated, Keijts discerned increasingly open

hostility towards Phaulkon among Siamese khunnang.9 He described the
attitude of the Siamese towards the Greek in these words: ‘He [Phaulkon]
saw himself without support and ill-regarded by several grandees, jealous
of his authority and [antagonized] by his pride which deserved punish-
ment.’10 Meanwhile, Phaulkon tried to convince the King to allow the
French soldiers to guard him. However, Phetracha was more successful in
convincing Narai of the Greek’s predatory intentions. The French were
ordered to retreat before they arrived in Lopburi.
The ‘treason’ plotted by Phaulkon and Phra Pi was discovered in a most
peculiar way: by being overheard by Sorasak and one of the King’s con-
sorts in a palace bedroom at night! Since the French had had to retreat,
the Greek kept away from court, but even that raised suspicion about his
evil plans among his opponents. Phaulkon was summoned to court and
arrested on 19 May. Then, another official was arrested and found to be
carrying a document outlining the entire plot, signed by Phra Pi,
Phaulkon and other conspirators, to kill the popular Chaofa Noi, along
with Phetracha, his son, and several officials, after King Narai’s death.
Confronted with the confiscated ‘evidence’, King Narai no longer had
means to save the lives of his favourite courtiers.
Phra Pi was decapitated immediately and his head and body were
shown to Phaulkon. The Greek tried to reconcile the Siamese by advising
the French troops to depart from Siam, but this did not save his life.
Keijts relates the humiliations Phaulkon was forced to endure from the
hostile Siamese mob ‘who followed him, teasing and mistreating him’ on
the path to the execution ground. His body was cut into three parts and
dug up from the ditch by dogs over night. Having eliminated his Greek
opponent and deterred the French, Phetracha was now confident enough
to reveal his ambition clearly. Although the two surviving half-brothers of
King Narai seemed to enjoy support from some officials who wanted one
of them to assume the throne, Phetracha was able to engage strong troops
and even have both princes killed. Keijts implied that this was the price
Narai had to pay for his own murder of his uncle, King Sisuthammaracha
in 1656.11 Upon hearing this news, King Narai was so overcome by grief
that ‘he became incapable of taking action, was unable to speak, and died
of dropsy two days later’, in the night of 11 July 1688. Keijts paid a final
tribute to the great King, ‘being about 55 years of age when he died, after
he had governed this kingdom in peace … for 31 years, 8 months and 14
days with the greatest glory and reputation, among the great and the
humble. So was the end of this great King of Siam, Ligor, Tenasserim,
Sukhothai and Phitsanulok, and the Suzerain of Cambodia, Johor, Patani
and Kedah.’12
Keijts seems to suggest that King Narai did not approve of Phetracha’s
 REDEFINING THE RELATIONSHIPS 153

seizure of power, writing that, before his death, the King had given the
‘royal sceptre’, the symbol of the right to rule, to his only daughter,
Kromluang Yothathep, ‘perhaps in order to show that he did not accept
that the Crown was taken by the person who now wears it [Phetracha], or
to create another party powerful enough to oppose him.’13 Yet, with the
King’s death, no other opponent was now left to keep Phetracha from
claiming the throne. Without meeting any resistance, Phetracha seized
the ‘royal sceptre’ and the authority over the kingdom. While making his
way to Ayutthaya ‘according to the old custom’, the new King abandoned
the Lopburi court for good by donating the palace to monks, the semi-
nary founded by Phaulkon, the Collegium Constantinum, to the
Chinese, and other buildings previously used by Europeans, such as the
English and the French envoys, to the newly promoted Siamese officials.14
The property of the Greek in Ayutthaya was also given away. On 1
August, Phetracha proceeded to the capital in a grand water procession,
accompanied by a large number of gilded prahu, escorting the body of
King Narai. Keijts emphasizes that the Dutch sailed about eight or nine
miles up the river to welcome the King-to-be and that they were the only
European nation to do so. To enhance their prestige, the Dutch distrib-
uted pieces of cloth and petty cash to the people on the way. King
Phetracha ascended the throne on that same day. He adopted the strate-
gy of his predecessor Prasatthong by aligning himself with the daughter
of the late King. The Opperhoofd gossiped that Phetracha’s marriage to the
twenty-year-old Kromluang Yothathep made his old first wife very
unhappy.15
During the disturbances in Lopburi, the Dutch in Ayutthaya closely
followed the situation of the other foreigners as well. While depicting the
difficult situation of the other Europeans in Siam, Keijts emphasized that
the Dutch had found favour with Phetracha. He noted that the
Europeans in Lopburi were closely guarded, with the exception of the
VOC court surgeon Brochebourde, and his two friends, a goldsmith and
a soldier. (Actually, a few French doctors were left free as well.) In the
capital, the first attack on the French started on 9 July: the Siamese plun-
dered the French camp and abducted one priest.16 The French command-
er in Siam, General Desfarges, whose two sons were held hostage in
Lopburi in the company of Bishop Laneau, refused to surrender the
fortress in Bangkok to the Siamese. Consequently, Phetracha sent soldiers
to block the river mouth. The Opperhoofd claimed the credit for having
prostrated himself in front of the Okphra and successfully convincing him
to spare the commander’s sons from being blown apart by cannons in
sight of Bangkok. They were returned to their father, in whom, according
to the Dutch, the Siamese found no compassion and mercy for his own
children. Meanwhile, the English and the Portuguese were placed under
154 CHAPTER SIX

surveillance for fear that they might assist the French. When two mestizo
Portuguese disguised in Siamese clothes were arrested for spying for the
French, Phra Phetracha had the bearing of arms by the Portuguese forbid-
den and their (and those of other Europeans) children born of ‘Siamese
and Chinese’ mothers taken away to the palace. Again, Keijts claimed that
the new King granted him his wish that these Eurasian children be
returned to their disconsolate mothers. However, before they could be
returned to the bosom of their families, they had already been distributed
as slaves to the courtiers, with the exception of the daughter of the former
head of the English factory, Robert Harbin, who was saved by Daniel
Brochebourde. The Opperhoofd took this opportunity to reproach the
French again: ‘These poor innocents became slaves, and paid miserably
for the French who, by their malice, their bad faith and disgraceful habits,
concerned themselves little with these misfortunes.’ Some Portuguese
priests also sought refuge in the VOC lodge but the Dutch could not pro-
tect them.17
What is noticeable in Keijts’ account, and what distinguishes it from
Westerwolt’s report of the succession conflicts in 1656, is the author’s par-
tiality. This is not to say that partiality was unusual: Schouten and Van
Vliet (who followed the former in many points) had betrayed sympathy
with the ill-fated family of King Songtham. The friendship between
Phetracha and the Dutch was undoubtedly based on their mutual hostil-
ity towards Phaulkon and the French. In his letter of 21 May 1688, the
Okphra had already confirmed his favourable inclination towards the
Dutch also saying that he was acting against the French, ‘who had so cru-
elly offended the king [Narai] as a reward for all the friendship, conces-
sions and privileges he had accorded them’.18 Keijts seems eager to defend
Phetracha: that he was actually not blood-thirsty and not eager to take
revenge on the innocent (which he indeed did, to the Eurasian children)
but ‘wished to show to everyone that the Siamese were people of good
faith and had justice on their side, having been offended and mistreated
in their own country by thankless creatures’.19 In a way, the French made
the same mistake that the Dutch had made when dealing with Okya
Sombattiban: making themselves totally dependent on a single khunnang.
Especially so, as the foundation of Phaulkon’s power lay purely in King
Narai’s favour and not in the control of manpower as that of other indige-
nous high-ranking officials.
At the same time, when Phetracha was trying to recruit the Company
men should there be a confrontation with the French, the Dutch held
adhered to their policy of non-involvement and avoided committing
themselves. Some French implied the role of the Dutch in the Palace
Revolution: Brochebourde was said to have poisoned King Narai to has-
ten his death, by order of Keijts and Phetracha,20 and the Dutch were said
 REDEFINING THE RELATIONSHIPS 155

to have supplied arms to the Siamese to fight the French.21 While the
Dutch without doubt hoped for the elimination of Phaulkon and French
influence in Siam, there is no evidence in Dutch sources suggesting any
personal interest of the VOC or Keijts in becoming so deeply involved as
to assassinate King Narai. The second accusation is difficult to determine,
since the VOC had always been one of the most important arms suppli-
ers to Siam.
While contemporary French sources portray Phetracha as cruel, cun-
ning, and ambitious, Keijts wrote that the new King had no choice but to
assume the throne because he was already too deeply involved and too
concerned with his own reputation and survival to allow others to admin-
ister power.22 At the end of the ‘Succinct Account’, Keijts gives a positive
description of the new ruler.
This new king governs without opposition and rules to general surprise with
all the absolute authority of every potentate in the Indies. He is liked,
because he was compared to the corrupt conduct of Faucon and because he
did not wish to attempt the life of the king like other pretenders and, on the
contrary, supported him and attended to his safety, to which the regard he
had for the people greatly contributed, as the opposition he raised to Faucon
who was their enemy, overburdening them with taxes, which he promised to
rescind for three years.23

Whether Phetracha was sincere or not, he apparently gained the support

of the Siamese through his display of loyalty to King Narai, his devotion
to Buddhism, and the policy of tax exemption which made him the oppo-
site of the treasonous, Roman Catholic, and greedy Phaulkon.

A ‘Mutual Disappointment’

As a result of King Narai’s declaration of war on the English East India

Company and the Palace Revolution of 1688, the beginning of King
Phetracha’s reign saw the expulsion of the French, as well as the departure
of any remaining English from Siam.24 Initially, his succession improved
the political and commercial situation of the Dutch, who now assumed
the position of his most important foreign ally, even without having actu-
ally delivered any actual help. Phetracha almost immediately granted the
VOC renewals of the Dutch-Siamese Treaty of 1664 and the Tin Accord
of 1672.25 But the alliance was based not only on the commercial signifi-
cance of the Dutch Company, it also had a foundation of a shared anti-
French outlook and policy. It was a time for the Company employees in
Ayutthaya to breathe more easily; the King’s friendliness nurtured their
hopes of being able to do their business more comfortably and reinvigo-
rated their sense of self-confidence. The confidence of the Dutch in the
156 CHAPTER SIX

King’s favour also had much to do with the role of Daniel Brochebourde
as an intermediary between the Company and the monarch.
At the first official encounter between the Dutch and Phetracha as
King, the latter appeared on his favourite mount, a horse, to give the
departing Keijts a farewell audience and his successor, Pieter van den
Hoorn (1688-91), a welcome audience. On that occasion, Keijts was
appointed Okluang Aphaiwari and had a gold betel box bestowed on him
for his ‘competence and goodness’. In addition to the usual insignia, the
King gave him two gowns made of gold- and silver-flowered cloth, a gold
chain, a gold kris, and a Thai-style hat with gold band. Van den Hoorn
also received the title Okluang Wisitsakhon and a gold betel box, which
he was obliged to carry with him whenever he attended a court ceremo-
ny. The monarch asked the Dutchmen what presents would please the
Governor-General. Keijts and Van den Hoorn gave him the customary
reply that whatever the King wished to give would be gladly accepted by
their superior. However, in the letter to Batavia, they confided that they
were rather afraid to name any specific gifts for the Governor-General;
not only would the reputation of the Dutch be tainted as being greedy,
but they feared even more that obligations to the King might augment in
relation to the gifts received from Siam. Nevertheless, they concluded that
the friendliness of the new King showed that he considered the Dutch
truly an ally and that he understood that the VOC was strictly interested
in trade—and not political intervention in Siam.26 Afterwards Van den
Hoorn, was sworn into office in the presence of some Siamese noblemen
sent by the King.27
The first letters from the new King and the new Phrakhlang, ‘Kosa Pan’
who was the brother of Kosa Lek and who had been King Narai’s first
Ambassador to France in 1686-7, sent to Governor-General Joannes
Camphuys (1684-91) at the beginning of 1689 deserve closer attention
for the way they portrayed King Phetracha to the Dutch. These missives,
especially that of the Minister, officially informed Batavia of the decease
of King Narai as a consequence of sickness and the subsequent succession
of King Phetracha. In his letter, the Minister blamed the late Phaulkon
for the ruthless abuse of foreign merchants in Siam as well as for the
empty royal treasury and accused him of having organized a conspiracy
against the dying King, with ‘the French, the English, the Chinese, and
some Siamese military officials’. The Minister stated that it had been
Phetracha’s intervention which had led to King Narai’s decision to demote
and punish Abdu’r-Razzaq, who had caused the Dutch so much misery in
the early 1660s. By emphasizing that Phetracha had now got rid of
Phaulkon, he apparently wanted to say that the new ruler had saved the
Dutch for the second time. The King and the Phrakhlang praised the
Dutch for their ‘good behaviour’—the latter’s neutrality during the 1688
 REDEFINING THE RELATIONSHIPS 157

upheaval—and, at the same time, promised they would favour the

Company.28 At that moment, the friendship of the Dutch was apparently
so important that the usurper King needed to justify himself to them.
Besides these friendly missives, the Siamese court showered lavish gifts
on the Governor-General which consisted of almost thirty pieces of gold-
work, including a gold crown with precious stones, a royal sword adorned
with rubies, and sets of gold betel boxes. The VOC men showed their sen-
sitivity to the political situation of the new reign in their policy of gift-
giving towards Siam. On the recommendation of Keijts and Van den
Hoorn, the High Government in Batavia divided and distributed its pres-
ents to the Siamese court in the following manner: two-thirds of the total
value was given to the King, and one-third to his son. The Dutchmen in
Ayutthaya were very well aware of the status of the powerful Sorasak, now
the Wangna Prince.
The Siamese court and the VOC continued exchanging information
regarding the French movements in both Asia and Europe. In Ayutthaya,
the Dutch were cautious not to compromise the King’s favour in matters
concerning the French. The instruction from Batavia to its employees
there was to keep their distance from the French, while observing them
carefully. According to the Dutch, in January 1689, the Portuguese Jesuit
João Baptista Maldonado pleaded for help from the Dutch, whom he
believed to be in favour with King Phetracha, in speaking up for the
release of the miserable French prisoners and for a loan from the
Company. He even asked the Dutch to stand bail for the French Bishop.
But Van den Hoorn refused to help the French on the grounds that it was
too risky to intervene in this still very sensitive issue and it was not in the
Company’s interest to meddle in the political affairs of Siam. During the
first popular rebellion against King Phetracha near Ayutthaya and the
unrest in Tenasserim in 1689, the French prisoners in Siam had to suffer
a great deal because they were put back in chains after having enjoyed a
little freedom. Probably the court was afraid that these Frenchmen or
their supporters might take advantage of the confusing situation to free
them. In spite of their treatment, King Phetracha was not blindly anti-
French. In the face of the possibility that French ships under the com-
mand of Desfarges might attack Phuket in August 1689,29 the court asked
the VOC to allow René Charbonneau, the former French Governor of
Phuket, to reside in the Company kampong. The Dutch believed that
Charbonneau had been an opponent of Phaulkon and was critical of
the wrongdoings of other Frenchmen. Knowing that this Frenchman
had never been jailed or punished by King Phetracha and was even
popular among the grandees for his modest and civil behaviour, the
Dutch gave permission. Van den Hoorn presumed that the reason for this
request was that, should Desfarges attack Phuket, the court would take
158 CHAPTER SIX

revenge on the French in Ayutthaya, therefore the King wanted to put

Charbonneau in a ‘safe place’.30 This shows that the Dutch settlement was
considered a safe haven. Although the Dutch-Siamese Treaty had forbid-
den the Dutch to attack any ships in Siamese waters, King Phetracha gave
them written permission to treat the French in his realm with hostility
after the news of the outbreak of the Franco-Dutch war of 1689 had been
confirmed.31
The above-mentioned audience accorded Keijts and Van den Hoorn at
the end of 1688 is likely to have been the last time that any Dutch trade
director had a chance to attend a personal audience with King Phetracha.
This situation was different from the 1630s: King Prasatthong had been
willing to interact with the Dutch—his most important European ally—
in formal audiences and during court ceremonies. Even as his most
important foreign ally, the Dutch who no longer had direct access to
Phetracha consequently needed an intermediary and they had one in their
Hugenot physician.
The versatile Daniel Brochebourde continued serving the Siamese
court under the new King. He had not only knowledge of Western med-
icine but also possessed business and linguistic skills acquired during his
service with the VOC and his long stay in Siam. We know that he had
participated in the valuation of Louis XIV’s presents to King Narai in
1685, and that he often served as an interpreter for both the Siamese
Crown and the Dutch Company. During the first few years of King
Phetracha’s reign, his significance to the VOC lay mostly in the fact that
he now more than ever played the role of middleman between the
Siamese King and the Dutch to the full. The dagregister kept by Van den
Hoorn from January to October 1689 indicates that, like his predecessor,
King Phetracha regularly held conversations with Brochebourde, whom
he addressed with the Dutch professional title of ‘meester’ (master).32
The Ayutthaya comptoir often sent Brochebourde to court for the pur-
pose of gathering news which would give the Dutch the advantage of
being able to move first and effectively. Nevertheless, it must be borne in
mind that what the Opperhoofd learnt via the physician was what King
Phetracha knew or, often, particularly wanted the Dutch to know, aware
that Brochebourde would transmit the message. The King repeatedly told
his physician that he greatly appreciated the Dutch and considered them
his only European allies. In this way, Phetracha managed to entertain a
fairly personal communication with the Dutch without having direct
contact with them. On one occasion, the King reminded Brochebourde
that he knew what his Phrakhlang had recently discussed with the Dutch
Opperhoofd.
Unlike his two immediate predecessors, King Phetracha no longer
asked the Company for active military assistance to suppress opposition
 REDEFINING THE RELATIONSHIPS 159

to his reign. Alerted by recent dangerous experiences with the English and
the French, he consequently was chary of involving another European
nation in the internal affairs of Siam. The court still needed the Dutch for
its interactions with the outside world.
The VOC continued its traditional role in Siam, that of supplying
luxury goods, delivering services and world news, especially from Europe,
as well as assisting court agents and Crown junks overseas, though to a far
lesser extent than during King Narai’s reign.33 From the beginning, Keijts
noted that the new King did not like ‘most of the foreign rarities’ and that
made it difficult to find the right presents for him.34 Actually, Phetracha
resumed the liking for foreign luxury goods that had long become an
established feature of pre-modern Thai kingship. Yet, in contrast to
Narai’s taste for eccentric foreign items, his preference was rather for what
was functional and not, or not necessarily, European. The goods ordered
for and the gifts preferred by King Phetracha consisted of pretty basic
objects, such as textiles, jewels, medicine, and exotic birds. Eyeglasses and
clocks were still requested at his court. The VOC was indispensable to the
procurement of Javanese horses, which were needed not only for military
purposes but were also the King’s favourite mounts. Phetracha even
requested a large carriage with six black horses as a gift from the Dutch.35
Although Phetracha did not have the curiosity for Western knowledge
and inventions of his predecessor, he did not reject Western technology,
especially munitions, outright. It was more a question of what he needed
at any given time. On one occasion, at the request of the court, the Dutch
offered a model of a crane to lift the heavy, 150–160-foot-long wooden
beams which were to be used for Narai’s cremation ceremony. However,
King Phetracha also considered the models proposed by an Englishman
and a Portuguese in Ayutthaya. Unfortunately, we do not know whether
he chose any of these.36
Counting on their commercial and political importance and
Brochebourde’s access to the King, the Dutch initially believed in the idea
of the improvement of their position in the kingdom. However, the opti-
mism was short-lived because the court and the Company were soon
embroiled in bitter disputes over delivering and pricing goods, especially
textiles and silver, and the settling of court debts. The overall relations
between the VOC and the Siam of King Phetracha, especially the com-
mercial ones, must be described as a ‘mutual disappointment’ as a result
of the trade policy of Siam and external economic factors.37 They were
‘asymmetrical’ because:
In Ayutthaya the VOC was compelled to submit to the wishes and caprices
of the court; but in the international trade relations, at least in Southeast and
South Asia, the king was almost completely dependent on the Dutch
Company. The VOC found itself in a paradoxical situation: its trade inter-
160 CHAPTER SIX

ests in Siam decreased, but to the king the Company became an important
key to the international commercial networks.38

By 1691, the Siamese court must have perceived the French threat to be
waning. Not only did King Phetracha release the French prisoners in
Ayutthaya, but his Phrakhlang also sent an envoy to Pondicherry bearing
letters to different French administrators and priests, offering peace and a
renewal of the French-Siamese Treaty. At the same time, the French in
India were told in ‘private letters’ (presumably from their compatriots in
Ayutthaya) that the Dutch ‘were no longer so well favoured at [the
Siamese] court, that they were held accountable for breaking their word
in relation to promises given to the king.’39 If the Siamese court was real-
ly motivated to try to effect a reconciliation with the French by bruiting
its discord with the Dutch, this was by no means uncharacteristic since its
principal goal would have been to avoid being dependent on one
European ally.
Despite such overtures, the French never managed to revive a full con-
tact with Ayutthaya. France and Siam had lost interest in each other.
What remained was the one-man effort of the French Jesuit Father
Tachard. In 1699, he finally managed to appear before King Phetracha in
the capacity of an ambassador. But all he could present was a ten-year-old
letter from Louis XIV to the Siamese King (actually addressed to Narai),
without any presents. Phetracha’s reciprocation was equally formalistic—
a letter replete with empty compliments.40 King Phetracha apparently did
not regard a diplomatic exchange with the King of France part of his aura
of grandeur. The Dutch believed that the King and his courtiers in gen-
eral were still hostile towards the French. In this atmosphere, the
Phrakhlang who, as the Dutch believed, had nurtured a passion for France
since his journey to that nation would not dare to assist the French.
Especially as he had already been repeatedly subjected to the cruelty of the
King.41
Just at this time of changing circumstances at court, the once effective
intermediary of the VOC Daniel Brochebourde seemed to be losing his
touch. The Company records after 1690/1 no longer mention the royal
physician reporting important or insightful news. Having said that, there
is always a possibility that he did indeed do so, but the reports, especial-
ly the dagregisters from this period, are not available to us. Probably, the
relationship between him and the VOC soured after Van den Hoorn’s
harsh treatment of his son, Moses, who decided to leave the Company
service.42 Coupled with the inaccessibility to King Phetracha created by
his courtiers, the loss of Daniel Brochebourde as the only intermediary
must have been a great disadvantage to the VOC. After Daniel’s death in
1697, Moses Brochebourde took over his father’s position as court sur-
 REDEFINING THE RELATIONSHIPS 161

geon, as Okphra Phaetosot, but he did not enjoy the privileged access to
the King that his father had had. He was not allowed to go to the court
without being summoned. Although Moses sometimes continued to
serve the Company as an informant, he seemed to keep himself aloof
from court affairs or, if he did have access to them, dared not tell what he
knew, undoubtedly for fear of falling victim to court intrigues. During his
long career at court, his father had certainly made some enemies, such as
the man who became the Phrakhlang of 1702-3.43
There were also other signs of deterioration in Phetracha’s relationship
with the Dutch. When Opperhoofd Reinier Boom (1697-8) died in
December 1698, the VOC in Ayutthaya asked whether the King would
be disposed to send his officials to be present at his funeral according to
the old custom, but the Siamese court did not send any representative at
all.44 Boom’s successor, Gideon Tant (1699-1703), reported that, in 1698,
the Company made a profit in its customary gift exchange with the
Siamese court. It was an occasion so unusual that he had no explanation
for this generosity on the part of King Phetracha, whom he otherwise dis-
paraged as ‘greedy’. He recommended that Batavia reciprocate the gen-
erosity of the King who was now described as being ‘usually no friend of
Europeans’.45
In the end, the VOC did not really benefit from the French absence
from Siam, because of its own commercial conflicts with the Siamese
court, and because, without the French threat, there was one reason less
for the Siamese to need the Dutch. A promising relationship born of their
understanding during the Palace Revolution therefore ended far sooner
than might have been expected. In the VOC reports after 1690, the
Dutch retreated into the background as observers of the struggles at the
court, where they had no friend and eventually only secondary inform-
ants. It is evident in Dutch sources that Phetracha’s rule was threatened
both by open challenges—popular rebellions and vassal revolts—, and by
subtle manipulation by people around him.

The ‘Talapoin’ Rebellion of 1689

Despite his easy victory in the Palace Revolution, the political life of King
Phetracha was much troubled by frequent unrest in different parts of the
kingdom. The Thai royal chronicles refer to the uprisings in Ligor and
Nakhon Ratchasima (or Khorat), and the Thammathian Revolt near
Ayutthaya. The VOC sources mention other conflicts in the 1690s with
the vassal states—Patani, Phatthalung, Kedah and Cambodia—as well.
Although King Narai had left no male heir, the chao of the Prasatthong
Dynasty still posed a threat to the new regime. Two of the above-men-
162 CHAPTER SIX

tioned rebellions were said to have been led by men who claimed to be a
‘brother’ of the late King. Throughout his reign, King Phetracha was con-
stantly fighting against the popularity of and loyalty to the old dynasty.
Since the revolt led by the monk Thammathian took place, as it were, on
the doorstep of the capital, its development and effects on life in
Ayutthaya were keenly documented by the Dutch. The report, which is
integrated into the dagregister of Van den Hoorn, reveals some of the char-
acteristics of popular uprisings during the Ayutthaya Period. 46
In early 1689, Siam was plagued by unrest in same outer provinces—
Tenasserim and Ligor. Suddenly, the Dutch found that the capital city
was alarmed by the threatening presence of arsonists, robbers, and mur-
derers, and noticed that the Siamese authorities had guarded the city
heavily. Okya Yommarat extended his operations into the foreign—
Portuguese and Dutch—settlements, taking away some inhabitants for
interrogation. At the same time, concerned about how well prepared the
Dutch were to defend themselves, the Phrakhlang encouraged them to
increase the number of employees in the lodge and seriously recommend-
ed a night watch. On this occasion, the VOC agreed to make a survey of
the residents in its own kampong and to evict strangers from it. His aware-
ness aroused, Van den Hoorn suspected that the Siamese were hiding
something more serious. Meanwhile, the court tried to divert the people
who had been demoralized by their fear of the menacing presence of
criminals in and around Ayutthaya by holding a grand New Year celebra-
tion. The Dutch reported that all the temples in the whole country would
be open to the public on the first day of New Year, something which had
not happened in many years.47
In March, Okya Yommarat captured twenty men, who were to be
interrogated sharply by ‘violent torture’ about the rumours surrounding
the surviving brother of King Narai. On the peaceful Sunday afternoon
of 24 April, the interpreter Okkhun Songphanit rushed into the VOC
lodge to report that, two hours earlier, Prince Sorasak and his suite had
been ‘surprised by an attack’ launched by an unknown force during their
excursion around a certain temple about two and a half miles from the
city and close to the elephant corral north of Ayutthaya. The Opperhoofd’s
report and the Thai chronicles picture the role of Prince Sorasak in this
episode differently. The chronicles recount that the Prince had learnt
about the advance of the rebel force to Ayutthaya and the conspiracy
among his own men in time and acted heroically by felling the elephant
on which the leader of the rebellion was mounted.48 Van den Hoorn
reported that the Prince had managed, with difficulty, to escape and
returned to report this to his father, in a state in which he was ‘dropping
down with shock and exhaustion’. Consequently, the King sent out Okya
Mahamontri with 12,000 men to stop the hostile advance and crush the
 REDEFINING THE RELATIONSHIPS 163

enemy. All city gates were blockaded, and all streets and the Royal Palace
as well as Prince Sorasak’s residence were guarded. Rumour had it that the
leader of the force was the surviving ‘youngest brother’ of King Narai,
probably Chaofa Noi. The Dutch saw this attack as ‘sudden and unex-
pected’ and as a surprise to the common people who did not know which
side to take—that of the ruling King or of the putative brother of the late
King.
By five o’clock in the evening, in their lodge the Dutch heard the
sounds of fighting. This launched a large-scale migration from the city.
The river was, as far as one could see, congested with boats large and small
fleeing downstream from the city. Within a few hours, the Dutch saw
hardly anyone left except for the Portuguese who came to deposit small
pieces of property, such as jewellery, gold and silver, in the VOC lodge, as
they ‘usually’ did in this kind of precarious situation, in order to avoid
arson and robbery.49 The King demanded that six Portuguese constables
come to serve at different posts and bulwarks around the city. In return,
he released the daughters of Portuguese men fathered with indigenous
women, who had been seized by the court in the previous year during the
incident with the French. On the following day, as the battle continued,
another wave of escapees left the city. Van den Hoorn dramatically
described how the multitude of boats caused so much movement on the
river that they stirred up spume as on the sea. Okkhun Songphanit decid-
ed to send his wife, who had served a brother of King Narai, to the ele-
phant corral to gather news. She managed to visit the place where the out-
law force had been stationed the day before but reported that there were
no longer any rebels there. However, she had heard from the villagers that
they had caught a brief glimpse of the putative prince on elephant back
before he disappeared from sight again. Van den Hoorn, unfortunately
for us, omitted other stories told by the interpreter’s wife because he
regarded them as superstitious and not worth reporting.50
On 26 April, Okya Mahamontri succeeded in defeating the rebels.
One hundred men were killed; another 300 rebels and three elephants
were captured and brought to the palace. The rest fled down the river or
into the jungle.51 A few days later, Brochebourde provided the Company
with information he had heard from the King himself. It appeared from
the interrogation of the captured rebels that the leader of the rebellion was
a Buddhist monk, ‘talapoin’ in Dutch usage, identified by the Thai chron-
icles as a certain Thammathian, a former retainer of the late Prince
Aphaithot. From what the Dutch heard, he had committed a crime in
Tenasserim and been sent to Ayutthaya, but escaped from his detention.
The monk now claimed to be King Narai’s brother who had been in hid-
ing and was now ready to assume the throne. He gained the trust and sup-
port of ‘stupid people’—many thousands, with and without arms—by
164 CHAPTER SIX

deceiving them with some ‘magic tricks’. Van den Hoorn himself regard-
ed the Siamese monks in general as the ‘masters of magic and delusion’.
Now that the rebellion had been crushed, the King declared that he
expected that the ‘talapoin’ would soon be caught. At this point,
Phetracha had said grinning: ‘One should see if a man who is already dead
can come back to life again.’ In the night of 29 April, the King’s predic-
tion was fulfilled when the rebel monk was finally caught while asleep in
the jungle. He was brought into the palace where he was put sitting at a
junction, with his neck and breast tied up against a post, to be gazed at
by the courtiers who regularly passed by.52 Because there were too many
captives to deal with, the authorities burnt the soles of the most impor-
tant rebels to prevent them from escaping.
Although the monk had already been detained in the palace for four
days, against the King’s expectations, some people continued to believe
that Narai’s brother was still alive and was approaching the city. Van den
Hoorn warned the readers of his report not to be puzzled by the existence
and persistence of this kind of rumour because the Siamese were ‘credu-
lous, gossipy and fanciful’ people. Referring to the accounts of Van Vliet
and Van Tzum, he also reminded his readers of similar episodes in the past
of struggles between the adherents of a new and an old dynasty, which
showed how the Siamese Kings assumed and maintained power by cruel-
ly eliminating the family of their predecessors.53 At long last, the ‘talapoin’
was vindictively executed—cut open alive—as recounted by Engelbert
Kaempfer in his Description of Siam of 1690.54

Manipulating the King: Court Members in Dutch Views

King Phetracha had won the throne but placed himself in a dilemma. He
was certainly able enough to deter the initial reactions against his rule.
Yet, he was constantly faced with subtle challenges from people surround-
ing him. Unquestionably, the King had a legitimacy problem on account
of his un-royal origin. However, the most serious problem was the fact
that he was dealing with a well-established and consequently rather strong
group of administrators over whom he initially had little control. The
Palace Revolution had destroyed the old chao but at the same time left
strong khunnang. This was compounded by the fact that, from the begin-
ning of his reign, royal power was virtually divided between the King and
his politically experienced son, Prince Sorasak.
During the very early years of King Phetracha’s reign, a certain degree
of freedom of interaction between the local officials and the Dutch was
evident. Van den Hoorn’s diary of 1689 reveals an unusual picture of
some khunnang going in and out of the Dutch lodge on an almost daily
 REDEFINING THE RELATIONSHIPS 165

basis. Okluang Wisitsongkhram, who was departing for Ligor, came to

offer his services to convey their message to the Dutch residents there.
Okphra Choduek appeared in the lodge with his secretary to write and
seal the tra for the Dutch. He was received on the upper floor of the
building and entertained with tea, preserved fruits, and Persian wine.
Certainly, such visits were reciprocated with gifts.55
Nevertheless, not all officials enjoyed this seemingly positive develop-
ment. There were signs that the new King was putting pressure on the
main ethnic groups of officials. Some Chinese had been accused of taking
sides with Phaulkon. The officials of Moor origin also aroused the King’s
suspicion, as a result of the turmoil in Tenasserim and the ‘talapoin’ rebel-
lion, in which some Moors were involved. The Syahbandar Okphra
Ratchamontri, who was born of a Moor father and a Siamese mother, and
two other peers were executed because they had sided with the rebellious
monk.56 The difficult situation of this group of khunnang was made
apparent to the Dutch when Okphra Sinaowarat, the head of the Moor
community in Ayutthaya, came to visit Van den Hoorn for an ‘insignifi-
cant’ chat. The Opperhoofd believed that the Okphra wanted to show the
Siamese that he was a good friend of the Dutch. This interpretation cor-
related with Van den Hoorn’s confidence in the high status the Dutch
were enjoying at the Siamese court at that time. Soon, the Dutch heard
that the Moor Governor of Phitsanulok, ‘Mameth Couli’, had been
replaced by a Siamese.57 The Dutch claimed King Phetracha told Okphra
Sinaowarat in the presence of many officials how ungrateful the Moors
were, despite the favour and freedom they had been enjoying in Siam,
privileges which they would not have had in their own land.58
However, before we shall assume that King Phetracha was, again, xeno-
phobic, the indisputable fact is that his hostility towards the Moors was
both inconsistent and short-lived. The Dutch described the Moor official
Okya Thepiata, who was the Commander of the Royal Elephants and a
former favourite of King Narai, as belonging to Phetracha’s close circle.
After his return from the mission to resolve the turmoil in Tenasserim, the
Dutch paid him a friendly visit at his residence. The King eventually gave
all the surviving Moor rebels captured in 1689 to this Okya, instead of the
head of their community, to be dealt with according to his own will.59
Despite his momentary lapse, the reign of King Phetracha would soon see
the return of the Chinese-Moor ‘dual prominence’ within Siamese
bureaucracy as well as in commercial life. In 1690, when Van den Hoorn
and Kaempfer presented the letters and gifts from Batavia to the
Phrakhlang, they were escorted by two Siamese officials, a ‘Hindustan’
Syahbandar who was then the chief of the Moors, and a Chinese official
(probably the Chinese Syahbandar).60 The Siamese court and kingdom
remained cosmopolitan.
166 CHAPTER SIX

The khunnang who took up the major administrative positions during

the reign of King Phetracha consisted mainly of those who, because of
their enmity towards Phaulkon and the French, had taken his side during
the 1688 conflict. Since they had served King Narai, and probably the
older generations even King Prasatthong, the strength of this group of
officials lay in their administrative experience. Their expertise was
required to ensure the consolidation of the new reign. At the same time,
it allowed these officials to manipulate the administration. And it was pre-
cisely their connection to the previous reign which kept Phetracha suspi-
cious of their intentions. The case of Phrakhlang Kosa Pan is an excellent
example of this complexity.
In a way, Kosa Pan carried on a part of the spirit of King Narai’s era—
the fascination with the West. This former ambassador to France decorat-
ed his house with pictures of the French royal family and European maps
and was fond of talking about what he had learnt of that country in con-
versations with the Dutch.61 He requested a full set of Dutch costume for
his son as a gift. In 1689, when he was about to set off to lead the Siamese
troops to suppress the unrest in Tenasserim, he asked for some medicine
for his trip from the VOC surgeon. He also borrowed a spyglass from the
Dutch to aid in the construction of the pagoda which would serve as a
shrine for his late mother’s ashes. The tool was meant to help the master
builder, who was an old man with poor eyesight, have sight strong
enough to reach the top of the structure. When the Dutch informed him
of the outbreak of the war between them and the French at the end of
1689, Kosa Pan consulted a map in his possession which showed impor-
tant port cities of Europe to ascertain the exact locations of the battles.62
Notwithstanding his fondness for European culture which might have
caused him to favour the Europeans, the Phrakhlang was in fact a shrewd
businessman. The disputes between the VOC and the court of Ayutthaya
were founded not only on the inevitable conflict of interests between the
two trading organizations with a monopolistic tendency, but also between
the Company and the individual officials who had their own personal
commercial interests. His letters to the Governor-General were lengthy
and discussed the disputes over trade between Ayutthaya and Batavia
extensively. Between 1690 and 1691, rather personal disagreements
between the Dutch and the Phrakhlang occurred on several occasions.
The Minister forced the Dutch to exchange money only with him and
not with other merchants in Ayutthaya. This violated the Dutch-Siamese
Treaty which allowed the Dutch to trade with all traders in Siam. The
Dutch accused the Minister of creating rumours and reporting to the
King that the money which the VOC had delivered to the Crown was
partly adulterated. They also believed that Kosa Pan and his second-in-
command, Okya Phiphatkosa, who had earlier served Prince Sorasak,
 REDEFINING THE RELATIONSHIPS 167

were trying to make the Prince dislike them. To make matters worse, the
Dutch were convinced that the Phrakhlang intentionally hindered the set-
tlement of the court debt, which was growing, because he was afraid that
his own corruption would be revealed. Kosa Pan even threatened to
revoke the exclusive trading right of the VOC in Ligor tin and challenged
the Company to employ force against Siam. The hopes of the Ayutthaya
comptoir failed to materialize when the letters with formal complaints
from the Governor-General to the King and his Minister failed to have
any effect in prompting the court to pay its debt. In return, the
Phrakhlang blamed the deteriorating relations between the Siamese and
the Dutch on Van den Hoorn’s impatience with bothering to observe
local practice. Exhausted by bad health and recurrent quarrels with the
local officials, Van den Hoorn asked for a replacement at the end of 1691
but died in Siam on 18 December of that year.63
In 1692, Van den Hoorn’s successor, Thomas van Son, sent an incisive
report to Batavia about the changing situation in the kingdom which was
to the disadvantage of the VOC. As a result of a conspiracy among the
officials, it had become very difficult to gain access to the King, if not
impossible altogether. First, the officials were—as they had always been—
in every position to manipulate the translation and presentation of the
Governor-General’s letters to the King and also the formulation of his
answers to Batavia. Secondly, no personal petition or request was now
allowed to be presented to the monarch on the street or the water way on
pain of incarceration or severe punishment, including the amputation of
the petitioner’s right hand. In so doing, the khunnang managed to deprive
anyone in Siam of the last resource to gain a hearing from the King, a
practice which even the Dutch had sometimes not shunned.64
Although the Governor-General might consider the strict regulation
imposed on the access to the King a common phenomenon among Asian
rulers who saw it as a ‘matter of glory’, Van Son felt that the Siamese offi-
cials had worked hard to contrive this situation. He was also convinced
that the khunnang tried to prevent any direct contact between the foreign-
ers and the King because they wanted to control their own part in the for-
eign trade of Siam. In Van Son’s words, these people decided when ‘to
close the window and open the door for those who were allowed to
approach [the King]’. The Opperhoofd complained bitterly that the
‘greedy’ officials were abusing the Dutch in the matter of the tin trade
worse than ever before. He also believed that the King was interested only
in religious and military matters and had no interest in trade; therefore,
he could easily be manipulated by his servants when commercial matters
were concerned. The record of the junks fitted out in the King’s name
contradicts the notion that Phetracha held himself aloof from trade. Still,
judging from his past career, he probably had little personal experience in
168 CHAPTER SIX

trade matters.65 In the following year, Van Son once more complained
that the ‘abusive’ officials had grown so confident in their doings that they
did not even bother asking the King’s permission for their actions. Even
when the King punished them, it did not help contain their ambitions
because amnesty could be bought. Having been gaoled more than twen-
ty-five times within that year, Kosa Pan did not, according to the Dutch,
rehabilitate his fraudulent behaviour and indulged in even greater enter-
prises. He and others ‘accused of treason and conspiracy’ had their lives
spared after having paid fifty-five catties of silver.66
Van Son also explained why the royal treasury had been emptied. He
commenced by pointing out that Phetracha’s court was not as splendid as
those of the previous Kings—that is to say that the King could not afford
the splendour. He thought that this had to do with the political situation
at the beginning of the reign when the King had ‘bought’ all kinds of peo-
ple’s support. When he came to power, Phetracha had rewarded the
important officials by increasing their revenues by one-third, besides
reducing taxes for the commoners. Yet, he later revoked that provision
and put the money into the royal treasury instead, but then this money
only went to support the costs of the war with ‘Phatthalung and Patani’.
To illuminate this whole point, Van Son explained that the Siamese King
usually did not pay his soldiers and gave no regular salary to his officials,
but only rewarded them occasionally according to their merit. Pertinently
he could take back at any time what he gave.67
Lastly, Van Son criticized King Phetracha for not pressing for a decisive
victory in the war with Patani, which he had begun with such vigour. The
suspicion that the King seemed to have given up on this war not only gave
people reason to think him beneath contempt, it also encouraged further
rebellions among his vassals. Kedah had followed in the footsteps of
Patani in refusing to pay tribute and even detained the King’s envoys,
with 200 men who had been sent earlier to secure their release. Van Son
saw this as a logical consequence of the current state of Phetracha’s king-
ship: ‘How could he [King Phetracha] have any interest in foreign affairs,
when he seems to have lost that for internal affairs?’ Another cause for dis-
quiet was that the King had ceded much of his authority to Prince
Sorasak who had as much support among the courtiers as his father did.
The Prince was so powerful that he was free to act according to his pas-
sions and desires, without fearing his father’s intervention. Van Son pre-
dicted that Sorasak’s growing strength would land the King in trouble.
The Dutch hoped that the King would be able to keep control of his son
and his officials because they feared that any change would affect the
Company.68 To sum up, the Dutch saw King Phetracha in 1692-3 as a
ruler very much deprived of information and money, unable to offer
courageous leadership.
 REDEFINING THE RELATIONSHIPS 169

The Purge of 1699

Around the end of the 1690s, the Dutch reports indicate important
trends in the development of King Phetracha’s personality and internal
policy. Unquestionably, he experienced changes in his character and per-
sonal interests. Furthermore, the King tried to break free of the manipu-
lation of his court members.
One minor incident prompted the Dutch to pay attention to the state
of Siamese-Cambodian affairs. In January 1698, a Malay official of
okluang rank who was in the service of Prince Sorasak ran amok and
caused great panic in the city. Some Cambodian prisoners took advantage
of this chaos to escape. Moses Brochebourde claimed that these
Cambodians were the victims of a diplomatic row between Siam and its
vassal state. Three or four years earlier, the King of Cambodia had
requested Siam’s protection against pirates. King Phetracha refused to
meet his obligations as the suzerain, for reasons unknown to the Dutch at
that time, but perhaps following the traditional Ayutthaya strategy of
keeping its neighbour weak.69 When a white elephant was discovered in
Cambodia two years later, the Cambodian King ‘took revenge’ on his
Siamese overlord by sending the animal to Lansang in return for the pro-
tection of this state.70 Ayutthaya was outraged and demanded the animal.
Instead, Cambodia sent around fifty prahu plus other gifts to Ayutthaya,
saying that its King possessed an excess of these vessels and was willing to
share some with the Siamese ruler. This infuriated King Phetracha even
more and made him more determined to hold many of the Cambodians
in this mission in custody until the white elephant had been delivered to
him.
The Dutch reported that the Cambodian fugitives managed to cross
the border into their own territory, whereas their Siamese pursuers were
ambushed or fled back. King Phetracha now ordered preparations for war
against Cambodia to be commenced and even announced that he would
lead the army himself. This many have been all bluff as the King relin-
quished this plan, according to the Dutch, because he feared a strong
Cambodian resistance. He opted instead to send a mission carrying gifts
to Cambodia.71 Whether their information was correct or not, the Dutch
observers seemed to suggest that King Phetracha was lacking the will to
wage a war against his vassal. This had been the predominant trend in his
foreign policy which had begun in the early years of the decade.
In internal affairs, the Dutch saw King Phetracha reclaim control by
suppressing another popular uprising and purging his enemies at court.
In his attempt to re-consolidate power, he now preferred to wield violence
and strict control in his dealings with the officials whom he had bought
with offices and wealth at the beginning of his reign. By 1698, the Dutch
170 CHAPTER SIX

were reporting that no officials dared order any textiles or other goods
from the VOC because no one was sure whether he could keep it secret
from the King, who would be outraged, or from his son who was even
more feared. Opperhoofd Boom commented that the court was in a state
of ‘discomfort and confusion’.72
Phetracha’s ultimate regaining of control came after the suppression of
the rebellion in Nakhon Ratchasima which began around February 1699
and ended in April 1700. Around 17-19 February 1699, a civil war broke
out when a hostile force took over Nakhon Ratchasima, which was not
only a frontier town but also an important commodity centre in north-
eastern Siam. The identity of the leader remains mysterious in all the
sources. Thai chronicles suggest that he was the charismatic spiritual
leader ‘Bun Kwang’.73 According to Opperhoofd Tant, right up until
September, popular rumour confusingly spread that the rebel leader was
either Prince Sorasak, or (again) a surviving brother of King Narai, or
even the secretary of the late King. Tant himself did not mention any holy
man and also disregarded the rumour that the rebellion was led by King
Narai’s brother.74
The general of the Ayutthayan force to Nakhon Ratchasima, Okya
‘Lakhon’, returned to the capital to ask for reinforcements, but instead he
was suspected of intending to drive a wedge into the army. He and some
other officials were locked up in a cage ‘like civet cats’. After the Okya’s
suicide attempt failed, the King ordered him to be treated for his wounds,
‘possibly to kill him afterwards in a crueller manner’. Fearing for his life,
the second-in-command, Okya Phonlathep (a Japanese mestizo), decided
to lead his men to ‘Koenajock’ (probably Nakhon Naiyok). Rumour had
it that he intended to join the Cambodians in an attempt to close in on
Ayutthaya from the south. At the same time, it was said that Patani, too,
wanted to send troops to seize the fortresses in Bangkok. Despite all these
other threats, Tant maintained that throughout the King was determined
to recapture Nakhon Ratchasima.
Besides the unrest in the provinces, the situation at the Ayutthayan
court confirmed the clear and present danger to King Phetracha. In his
letter of January 1700, Tant reported the confusion which reigned at the
court in Ayutthaya. On 9 January, a gunpowder works, which was locat-
ed only seven or eight roeden (about 32-36 metres) away from the palace
wall and where the war ammunition was produced, caught fire and blew
up. The explosion even shook the Dutch lodge which was situated more
than three-quarters of an hour away from the palace, with waterways in
between. The fire burnt for three hours and left ten people dead and more
than a dozen injured. The King was appalled because he had almost been
hit by flying shrapnel as he was sitting in the ordinary audience hall. Tant
explained that the petards were made of buffalo hides containing gun-
 REDEFINING THE RELATIONSHIPS 171

powder, smashed porcelain, and pieces of Chinese iron pans. Without

having given any orders about how to deal with the disaster, Phetracha
had the palace gates heavily secured and rode his horse from place to place
within the palace, until the fire was quenched. (Probably, by being
mobile, the King wanted to prevent the enemy from catching him.) Some
people suspected that this was an act of arson organized by people in the
King’s own circle. Later, the explosives factory was removed to the north
side of the palace, outside the city walls. The Dutch had already given 720
buffalo hides to the court for the purpose of making petards and now they
were obliged to give one hundred more.75
Though Thai and French sources are silent on this topic, Tant drew
attention to speculation that the Nakhon Ratchasima rebellion had
resulted from a conspiracy at the court in Ayutthaya which aimed to
remove King Phetracha and replace him with Phra Khwan, his son born
of Kromluang Yothathep, who would come of age in early 1699. The ton-
sure ceremony of Phra Khwan, Narai’s only grandson, which lasted for
nine days, was the only court celebration mentioned by the Dutch dur-
ing Phetracha’s reign. The ringleaders were believed to be Yothathep her-
self, who was known to be eager to bolster the claims of her son, and Kosa
Pan.76 Tant mentioned that the harsh treatments meted out by the King
might have lured some officials into plotting against him as they desired
a more compliant, young, and inexperienced king like Phra Khwan. This
explanation is consistent with other tales about the relationships between
the King and his courtiers as told by the Dutch.
The interpreter for the Dutch believed no matter which side won—the
King or the Queen—it would not affect the Company’s position in
Siam.77 In fact, it was the King who won both in Nakhon Ratchasima and
at court. Nevertheless, the threat of rebellions and neighbouring king-
doms as well as the mounting tensions at court apparently had a deep
impact on King Phetracha. Tant noted the change in the King’s personal-
ity:
[The King] has transformed himself from a great pious man into a staunch
tyrant; [the change] has brought [the situation] so far that he fears no one
and is feared by everyone.

Since the ‘discovery of the treason’, the King withdrew himself almost
completely from religion and devoted himself to worldly matters.
Actually, this change had begun even earlier and persisted until his death.
Already in 1698, Boom had remarked that King Phetracha now neglect-
ed State affairs and was interested only in such entertainments as boxing
and kite-flying.78 Shortly before his death, the King sent his courtiers to
the Susuhunan of Mataram not just for the usual mission of buying hors-
es, but also some beautiful female dancers and music instruments—his
172 CHAPTER SIX

most eccentric desired import the Dutch ever noted. Probably the refer-
ence is to performers of the beedhaya dance which is one of the most sacred
of all Javanese dance performances, and part of the royal regalia.79 The
King may have learnt about this from either the Siamese envoys to Java
or royal factors who travelled there regularly to buy horses. Tant com-
mented that the Siamese would not succeed in buying these dancers
because it was not allowed to export Javanese into slavery!80
Tant also remarked that King Phetracha had become more cruel than
he had been at the beginning of his reign. Although the King had finally
retaken the devastated city of Nakhon Ratchasima from the rebels, some
smaller forces were still left to challenge him. The rumour still hovered
around that the surviving rebels were conspiring with the rulers of
Lansang, Ava, Pegu and others. Phetracha now employed violence against
the civilian population in the war region as well. Besides the casualties of
war, many ‘innocent peasants’ and ‘local traders’, who were suspected of
treason, were tortured and brutally murdered, and their bodies were dis-
played around the city walls of Nakhon Ratchasima.81
At the same time, King Phetracha managed to attend to his enemies at
his own court, too. He brutally persecuted many officials from old and
distinguished families who had served King Narai.82 One of the most
prominent victims of this brutality was the Phrakhlang, whose tie with the
old dynasty brought about his own downfall. After having been held in a
palace and become seriously ill, Kosa Pan died on 15 November 1699,
according to the Dutch.83 After his death, the King openly treated his
alleged ally, Queen Yothathep, very badly and once even beat her up.84
The elimination of the officials of old families must have weakened the
position of Narai’s daughter. Phetracha had these officials replaced by his
own favourites; though most of them were young and inexperienced, the
advantage was that they would obey him. The new Phrakhlang Minister
was Okya Maha Amath, one of the King’s greatest favourites. The Dutch
considered him young, arrogant, inexperienced, and capricious.85 But like
their predecessors, Tant commented, these new officials continued
exploiting the poor people, who submitted to their will hoping to be left
in peace.86 The destruction of the old, experienced officials and the sub-
sequent rise to power of a new generation who lacked experience may
partly explain why Phetracha and Sorasak abandoned their maritime
trade activities around 1700.87 Throughout these great changes, only the
old Okya Phiphatkosa still remained in the office of Deputy-Phrakhlang,
but only because ‘he was needed for his service rather than favoured’. He
was the only person the Dutch could regularly contact (for their business)
because he was hardly ever thrown into jail, unlike most of the grandees
at that time.88 Although they may have been unable to act, Tant blamed
the current miserable state of the khunnang on their own attitude. No one
 REDEFINING THE RELATIONSHIPS 173

had the courage to confront the King about his wrongdoings and brutal-
ity afflicted on the officials and people because the Siamese, by virtue of
their ‘blind heathen belief ’, thought that it was necessary, just as a father
had to discipline his children out of love. Moreover, they also believed
that those who offended their master now would never enjoy the next
life.89 To do the Siamese justice, it should be borne in mind that their con-
cern for the present life under the cruelty of King Phetracha may have
been a more important motivation than fear of paternal strictness or the
prospect of the next life.
The turmoil of 1699 and 1700 absorbed the entire attention of the
court and the resulting scarcity of manpower also grew into a serious
problem for the Dutch. The Phrakhlang could not finish loading the
Dutch ships because he could not report this to the King who was occu-
pied by the continual unrest.90 According to the Dutch, in his attempt to
suppress the rebellion, King Phetracha tried to enlist the help of foreign-
ers in Ayutthaya, namely the Chinese, Moors, and Portuguese. ‘Men
under the Dutch jurisdiction’—presumably the residents of the Dutch
kampong—were also included on this list. Adhering to its chosen policy
in Siam, the VOC tried not to burn its fingers in this internal conflict and
avoided lending arms and people even to the King. The Dutch main-
tained that they were merchants and not warriors.91 Tant believed that the
Dutch would be safe, as long as they remained neutral, because the ‘fear
of foreigners’—he probably meant the foreigners’ ability to defend them-
selves—was still strong among the Siamese.92

The Change of the Reign, 1703

Although, by 1699-1700, King Phetracha had succeeded in crushing the

rebellion in Nakhon Ratchasima and weakening the khunnang, his suc-
cess did not change the fact that court politics continued to be dominat-
ed by different chao factions; it was, in Tant’s words, ‘a three-headed gov-
ernment’. Besides the King, there were two other power poles in Siam:
Prince Sorasak, on the one hand, and Queen Yothathep on behalf of her
son, Phra Khwan, on the other hand. Both held their own courts and had
to be obeyed and, moreover, negotiated separately in matters of trade. To
complicate the situation even more, they both collected separate taxes,
and actively promoted the pursuit of their own courses.93
The King was in a cleft stick in having to choose between Phra Khwan
and Prince Sorasak as his successor. He seemed to favour his youngest son
as seen from the way in which he had him guarded and personally taught
him in statecraft, and, most importantly, tried to keep him away from his
elder brother. At his coming of age, Phra Kwan was reported to have been
174 CHAPTER SIX

given a separate court with his own officials, troops, and revenues.94 His
popularity was certainly based on the fact that he was the only grandson
of King Narai. Seeing that Phra Khwan, at fourteen, already showed a
definite self-interest, Tant predicted that conflict between the two Princes
was inevitable.95
Whereas the Dutch considered the Yothathep–Phra Khwan faction an
agreeable alternative, they and many others had much to fear from the
King’s eldest son. Besides having accumulated enormous experience as
Phetracha’s long-term closest ally, Prince Sorasak controlled the manpow-
er of the household of the Wangna Prince. Moreover, he actively partici-
pated in foreign trade, sending his junks to Coromandel, Japan, and
Batavia.96 The French missionaries were afraid of his anti-Christian atti-
tude and mentioned many of his cruel deeds.97 The Dutch, too, held a far
from high opinion of his character. Sorasak was known to lust after young
girls and for his sadistic treatment of them, including daughters of people
who lived around and worked for the VOC lodge. The Company could
not protect these girls, although their parents asked it to do so.98 To add
to the family record, the VOC reported in 1697 that the nineteen-year-
old daughter of Prince Sorasak was guilty of sexual misconduct by sleep-
ing with male persons of low social status such as servants, actors and the
like. Painting her portrait even more darkly, it was hinted she was report-
ed to have slipped out of the palace disguised in men’s clothes. When her
governess told her father about it, he ordered that seven cuffs be slapped
on the Princess. This revelation distressed not only her father but also her
grandfather, especially when the scandal broke in the midst of an auspi-
cious occasion: the tonsure ceremony of a son of the Prince.99
Though seen by many as very powerful, Prince Sorasak did not have a
completely smooth career. At a certain point in the mid-1690s, the Dutch
had the impression that he seemed to have lost his father’s favour.100
During the turmoil of 1699-1700 and the rumour that he was the leader
of the Nakhon Ratchasima Uprising, the behaviour of the Prince, who
kept to his own palace, was a mystery to everyone. In the midst of the
news of his wife’s death in July 1699 and the illness of his mother, the
rumour of his own death was being spread around. But Okya
Phiphatkosa and Okya Sombattiban as well as the court interpreters for
the Dutch insisted that he was alive. Moses Brochebourde said that the
Prince, though alive, was paralysed.101 When Sorasak married a princess of
Lansang in April 1702, the Dutch heard people speculate that during the
time that he had been rumoured to be dead, he was actually in Lansang
with an embassy sent by the King to propose to this princess.102
Although it is not entirely clear from the VOC sources why Prince
Sorasak was disgraced in the second half of the 1690s, he later managed
to regain a position in his father’s good graces. The Dutch claimed he was
 REDEFINING THE RELATIONSHIPS 175

even able to block news of any State affairs or for that matter, of his own
undertakings, from reaching the King’s ears. The Dutch description of
Sorasak’s self-reinvention, which occurred just in time to restore him
before his father’s eventual death, is revealing.
We believe … that the King, while still alive, has no other option [than] that
the eldest son will certainly take over the kingdom, principally if he
[Sorasak] keeps on with his present behaviour, because one now begins to
love and glorify him [for] this [which is] completely contrary to his former
[behaviour]. [He is] everywhere renowned for clemency, generosity and just
goodness. Yes, even though the local people have been afraid of [him] in the
past.103

The death of King Phetracha came on the evening of 5 February 1703.

According to Tant, the King took, at his own request, a purgative which
was said to have had the effect of precipitating his death. Prince Sorasak
succeeded in seizing control of the court and ensuring his own accession
to the throne.104 Immediately after Phetracha’s death, Tant, who was leav-
ing Ayutthaya for good, predicted that the end of Phra Khwan was now
imminent. It was his successor, Aarnout Cleur (1703-12), who resumed
the task of documenting what actually happened. His ‘Relation of What
Occurred upon the Sickness and Death of the Siamese King Named Phra
Trong Than [Phetracha]’ is based on a story told by an unnamed
courtier.105
According to Cleur’s account, Phetracha had been trying to keep his ill-
ness secret. He was unsuccessful and Queen Yothathep had learnt of it
and immediately gathered her helpers to secure her son’s succession. The
most important among them was Okya Sombattiban, the Chinese
favourite of the King.106 When the illness of the King was too severe to be
kept secret any longer, Sorasak decided to remain in the Royal Palace and
had it surrounded by 3,000 armed men from his own force. The King,
knowing his own death was imminent, tried to make Sorasak promise not
to do Phra Khwan any harm.
After the King’s death, Sorasak’s first step was to weaken his opponents.
He commenced by demoting Okya Sombattiban, whom he had ordered
to be arrested even before his father’s death. The Phrakhlang was also
incarcerated and his place taken by Okya Phetburi. Okya Phiphatkosa
again survived this political reshuffle and was even promoted to the more
prominent position of Okya Phonlathep.107 Sorasak had himself crowned
by a sister of King Narai, a ‘bagijntje’ (beguine—a woman who had cho-
sen to retire into a convent without taking full religious vows) who had
raised him, Kromluang Yothathip. The new ruler, known as King Süa,
first avoided doing anything to offend Narai’s memory. He treated Phra
Khwan with care, calling him Chaofa Noi, which meant in this instance
‘the young King’. He also claimed that he had no intention of ruling but
176 CHAPTER SIX

was obliged to do so now on account of his brother’s youth and inexpe-

rience.
Meanwhile, the Queen and her helpers were plotting to assassinate the
new King; the deed was to be done by the first page of Phra Khwan. The
plot was betrayed to King Süa by a maid-of-honour of the Queen. The
woman allegedly wanted to revenge herself on Yothathep for having pun-
ished her following her false accusations of other people.108 The King’s fac-
tion waited patiently, devising a plan to encourage the young Prince to go
horse-riding. On 6 and 7 April, King Süa led his teenage brother on
horseback to pay their respects to King Phetracha’s body. At the King’s
encouragement, Phra Khwan rode on towards one of the royal treasuries
situated within the walls of the Royal Palace. There four trusted officials
of the King forced him to dismount and executed him. The ‘Relation’
recounts Phra Khwan asked to be beheaded at once instead of suffering
slowly being clubbed to death. His request was refused on the grounds
that it would be against time-honoured custom to shed royal blood. In
the end, he was given the coup de grace. Phra Khwan’s body was broken
into pieces and placed in a copper basin. To prevent any rumour of his
survival, his corpse was displayed to the public for a few days before being
buried at Wat Khok Phraya. King Süa had evidently learnt from his
father’s fights against the ‘ghost’ of King Narai’s brother.
Upon hearing of Phra Khwan’s death, Queen Yothathep sought refuge
with her beguine aunt, Yothathip. Now, a Buddhist concept was used to
explain the fall of Narai’s daughter. Her aunt reminded Yothathep that her
son’s death was a consequence of her own past wrongdoings. By living ‘in
a secret understanding’ with Phetracha before his accession, she had been
the cause of the deaths of her two uncles.109 Upon the beguine’s request,
King Süa spared the Queen’s life but stripped her of her queenly rank and
possessions. He was not so merciful to her co-conspirators who did not
escape a cruel end and their family members were enslaved. With the
murder of Phra Khwan, and the degradation of Yothathep, King Süa was
able to end any possible challenge from the old dynasty, which his father
had tried to do by destroying the old khunnang families but had not been
able to complete because he had needed Narai’s lineage to legitimize his
rule.

Another Fraught Relationship: The VOC and King Süa

The accession to the throne of King Süa in early 1703 confirmed the
establishment of a new dynasty which was definitively liberated from the
old forces connected with the Prasatthong Dynasty which had emerged in
1629. For the Dutch, it meant the end of the possibility ever again to be
 REDEFINING THE RELATIONSHIPS 177

recognized as the most important foreign ally of the Siamese King—this

is said notwithstanding the actual significance of the VOC to the mar-
itime trade and affairs of Siam. Although the Dutch found King
Phetracha increasingly anti-European—up to now they had never enter-
tained this idea about any Siamese King they knew—, it can be said that
the real anti-Dutch actions in Siam came with the beginning of King
Süa’s reign. Having overcome his opponents, the new monarch now
focused on the redefinition of Siam’s relationship with the Dutch. The
signs were not good. Immediately, the Siamese court refused to renew the
Dutch-Siamese Treaty according to the 1688 version. Besides disputing
the VOC commercial privileges, it also demanded the ‘impossible’: that
the Company comply with the rules and regulations of the kingdom,
especially its jurisdiction.110
At the Company’s request, in his 1705 analysis of the declining trade
in Siam former Opperhoofd Tant explained that the difficulties which the
Dutch were facing had their roots in King Süa’s suspicion of Europeans,
because he was still haunted by bad memories of the French. Despite this,
he optimistically believed that the King would not completely reject the
Dutch, because he relied on their protection for his outward-bound ships
—here Tant’s vision was correct—and against possible revenge by the
French. This may have reflected how deeply the French affair had had an
impact on the attitude of the generation which had endured the turmoil
of 1688. Alternatively, it seemed to have become an entrenched idea
among the post-1688 VOC employees in Siam. Considering it impossi-
ble to obtain any personal contact with the new King, he suggested that
the Governor-General bypass the ‘malicious’ Siamese ministers by writing
directly to the King about his officials’ machinations. In doing so, Tant
seemed to have forgotten that this would not work, because the officials
were able to manipulate the translation of any foreign letters to the King.
Nevertheless, it was typical of the way of thinking current among the
VOC employees in Siam that Tant found it so difficult to relinquish his
hope of regaining the King’s favour.111 But he was mistaken.
Having accompanied his father almost as a shadow throughout his
political career, King Süa was a different personality in a different situa-
tion. He had risen to the throne by his own strength and political acumen
and did not even consider requesting Dutch assistance for the consolida-
tion of his power. Contrary to Tant’s above-mentioned expectations, the
situation in 1705-6 became so hopeless for the Dutch that the Company
decided to close down its comptoir in Ayutthaya. The High Government
decided to send Jan van Velsen there in an attempt to resolve the differ-
ences or, failing that, to oversee the withdrawal from Siam. The Siamese
officials were anything but friendly to the Commissioner. The Dutch
demanded that Van Velsen be given a formal reception and admitted to
178 CHAPTER SIX

an audience with the King, just as was accorded Pieter de Bitter in 1664
when he came to conclude the first Dutch-Siamese Treaty. The request
was not granted. The Phrakhlang also turned down the Dutch proposal to
fire a salute from their compound during the reception of the Com-
missioner, a request which had been granted so many times in the past.
No court representative was sent to attend the Dutch toast to the health
of the Siamese King in the VOC lodge. During this celebration, the
Company men found themselves threatened by the presence of 1,000
armed men composed of a multi-ethnic force—Malays, Makassarese,
Cochin Chinese and others—on boats moored in front of their settle-
ment. The letter from the Governor-General and the two Persian horses
sent as gifts to the King were taken into the palace, but the court declined
to reciprocate in writing on the grounds that the Governor-General had
not replied to a previous letter of the King—an act of breaching the long-
standing protocol. Ten days later, the unfortunate horses were returned to
the Dutch in a neglected condition. Cleur reminded his superiors that in
Siam the refusal to accept gifts was considered one of the greatest affronts
which could ever be offered anyone.112 Meanwhile, Okya Phonlathep used
two Dominicans and one Paulist priest, who bore the title ‘State Coun-
cillors’, to witness his negotiations with Van Velsen.113 The Company had
no option but to withdraw when the Siamese court forbade the Dutch to
trade in Ayutthaya and Ligor and refused to allow it to export rice.114 For
its employees, the worst was still to come when King Süa prohibited the
departing Dutchmen to take their indigenous as well as mestizo wives and
their offspring out of the country.115
On leaving for Batavia, the Dutch ships were subjected to minor bul-
lying by the Siamese on the way to Pak Nam. However, some Siamese
grandees did come to send the Dutch off at the warehouse Amsterdam:
Okphra Choduek, Okphra Ratchamontri, the Governor of Bangkok
Okphra Thonburi, Okluang ‘Rampasidie’, and Okluang Phrapadaeng.
They promised to protect the European employees left behind and the
Company’s assets. Van Velsen was overjoyed to board the Company ves-
sel at the river mouth and to be free of the ‘mean and horrible people’ of
Siam.116 The Siamese court blamed the breach in the relationship—the
withdrawal of the VOC from Siam—on Van Velsen’s insensitivity to local
customs as well as on the conduct of the former Opperhoofd Tant, more
particularly specifying their non-compliant behaviour and attitudes.117
The Commissioner told a different tale, maintaining that he was forced
by the court to leave lock, stock, and barrel, after the King’s debts had
been completely liquidated in the agreed manner. Batavia was yet not
pleased with the conduct of its employees, especially Van Velsen.118
 REDEFINING THE RELATIONSHIPS 179

Conclusion

The VOC reports reveal how much King Phetracha’s court was absorbed
by internal struggles: rebellions and court intrigues. To survive all these
required both the redefinition of the political relationship among the
actors and the self-reinvention of the main political personae. Despite the
authority he had gained after his victory in the Palace Revolution of 1688,
King Phetracha found himself hemmed in by his officials, his former col-
laborators. The purge of 1699 seemed to have been the King’s logical
response to the prevailing power relations, in which he now was at a dis-
advantage.
The Dutch characterized both Kings Phetracha and Süa as sceptical of
Europeans. Nevertheless, we must be careful not to label the two Kings
simply as xenophobic. During their reigns, Europeans clearly lost their
prominence at court, but the Siamese court had good reasons for this fall
from grace. The conflict with the English and the political struggle
against the French in the 1680s, as well as the commercial disputes with
the Dutch in the 1660s and 1690s up to their withdrawal in 1706, con-
vinced the Siamese Kings that they did not always have control over the
Europeans. Despite this Achilles’ heel, the court of Ayutthaya continued
employing Europeans, though no longer in administrative positions; in
fact King Süa even sought to renew ties with the English merchants.119 If
the initial favourable inclination of Phetracha towards the VOC had
degenerated into suspicion, his successor’s attitudes towards the Dutch
suffered a reverse. When the VOC chose to return to Siam in that same
year, its employees were not at first warmly embraced by King Süa who
remained resentful of their withdrawal. Yet, by the end of his reign, the
Dutch had eventually regained his favour, as symbolized by the invitation
issued to Cleur and his men to join King Süa and his sons on a sailing
trip, during which a small boat—a gift sent by Batavia to the King—was
also tested.120 Nevertheless, neither the Dutch nor any other Europeans
were fully to enjoy the privileges their predecessors had been allowed in
the previous century. During the eighteenth century, the VOC servants
themselves were to be constantly confronted with the question of whether
to stay or, again, to leave Siam.
 CHAPTER SEVEN

REMAIN OR LEAVE?: THE DUTCH AND

THE EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY SIAMESE COURT

Introduction

A period of relatively stable relations between the VOC and King Thaisa,
who succeeded King Süa in 1709, was followed by the much more trou-
bled times of the last reigns of Ayutthaya under Kings Borommakot,
Uthumphon (r. 1758), and Ekathat (r. 1758-67). Research into Borom-
makot’s reign has resulted in two contrasting interpretations. In its
longer-term consequences, his long reign represents ‘a sort of golden age’
of Ayutthaya history. Revealing himself as a strong supporter of
Buddhism and as a powerful actor in regional politics, his kingship
became an inspiration to the founders of the Chakri Dynasty in the 1780s
and 1790s.1 In the shorter term, Borommakot’s policy and its (unintend-
ed) consequences—most importantly, political factiousness and misman-
agement of manpower—were partly responsible for the political and
social confusion which would dominate the short reigns of his sons,
Uthumphon and Ekathat, and which would contribute to the fall of
Ayutthaya.2
To a certain extent, the Dutch representation of King Borommakot
agrees with the second interpretation: it shows a King who had to suffer
the sharing of power and resources with both the chao—his many
children—and the khunnang. This situation, which threatened Dutch
interests in Siam and required their constant attention, continued into
the reigns of Uthumphon and Ekathat, who in turn did not have the same
command of the situation their father had had.
As we shall see in this chapter, between 1733 and 1767 the Dutch-
Siamese relationship was put to the test in several ways. In the past, royal
favour had been the last resort which saved the Dutch from many diffi-
culties. However, soon after Borommakot’s enthronement, the absence of
any intention on his part to intervene in their favour forced the Dutch to
realize once again that they were no longer a privileged nation in Siam. In
the face of the decline in the VOC-Siam trade, the Ayutthayan court
increased its pressure on the Company servants in the kingdom, while the
High Government in Batavia grew less conciliatory to the court demands.
The Dutch now also had to widen their scope and interact with the more
powerful chao and khunnang. At the same time, various external factors,
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 181

such as the importance of Ceylon to the VOC’s strategy and the Burmese
invasions of Siam posed additional challenges to the Dutch to reconsider
their position in the Thai kingdom.

Diplomat or Despot?: Dutch Evaluations of King Borommakot

In the eyes of the Dutch, the basic conditions which had characterized the
period immediately preceding King Borommakot’s reign—precisely the
reigns of his father, King Süa, and his older brother, King Thaisa—did
not differ distinctively from the previous century. After the elimination of
those associated with King Narai, the tensions among the chao of the new
dynasty quickly became manifest. The Thai chronicles give an inkling of
King Süa’s mistrust of his own sons,3 and a Dutch report mentions that a
cousin or nephew (the Dutch word is the same) of the King plotted
against him in September 1706.4 Nevertheless, the transition from King
Süa to King Thaisa was a peaceful one—the first untroubled succession
since the enthronement of King Ekathotsarot in 1605.
In 1712 and 1713, Thaisa’s legitimacy was challenged by a rebel force
which attacked Tenasserim and Mergui. The Dutch sources say it was led
by a person who claimed to be a son of a brother of King Narai. The
Phrakhlang explained to Batavia that this man was a Mon monk from
Tavoy and that he had Burmese followers and some Moors also assisted
his forces in plundering both cities. In the end, the rebellion was de-
feated and its leader fled.5 If the Dutch were right about his claim to be
related to King Narai, this information points to a dominant pattern in
provincial revolts during the late Ayutthaya Period and the position King
Narai had won in the popular imagination. All the leaders of the
Thammathian Rebellion of 1689, the Nakhon Ratchasima Revolt of
1699, and again in this Tenasserim uprising were (or were reported to be)
either a magic-practising monk or a ‘holy man’ who allegedly claimed to
be related to King Narai—a name to be conjured with. They legitimized
themselves and won support among a certain part of the population by
linking ‘magic’ with ‘royalty’.
Now and then, Ayutthaya’s vassal states broke away before re-submit-
ting within a short time, just as they always had done. In 1712, when the
Queen of Patani rebelled against King Thaisa, Thai troops were sent
there. Rumour had it that a Siamese governor might replace the Queen.
Whether this was considered a threat or a promise, Patani decided to send
the tributary flowers to the Ayutthayan court the following year, and with
this token of submission the war came to an end.6 In 1717, Thaisa
engaged in a war against King Angk Em of Cambodia, mainly to help
restore its former King Thommo-reachea IV, who had sought refuge at
182 CHAPTER SEVEN

the Thai court two years earlier. The Dutch gossiped that the former
Cambodian King was not enthusiastic about leaving Ayutthaya, where he
had been pleasantly entertained by courtesy of King Thaisa. In the end,
Thaisa did not re-install Thommo-reachea but succeeded in forcing the
pro-Vietnam Angk Em to recognize Ayutthaya’s suzerainty.7
The Siamese court continued receiving and sending embassies, though
without any notable success. In 1715, the Nawab of Masulipatam sent an
embassy to Ayutthaya to complain about the bad treatment of his envoys
in 1706. However, the newly arrived envoys were prevented from meet-
ing King Thaisa by the Siamese officials. The Dutch thought that this
repeated discourteous treatment might drive the Nawab to decide to seize
Thai ships around the Coromandel Coast.8 They did not mention what
could possibly have motivated the khunnang to treat the embassies from
Masulipatam so cavalierly, especially when Ayutthaya seemed to be inter-
ested in trading with Coromandel. In 1718, a Spanish embassy from
Manila arrived; it was the last grand European embassy—with 122 mem-
bers—to visit Ayutthaya. Nevertheless, it did not help improve the trade
between Manila and Ayutthaya.9 Moreover, while the French traders
failed to re-enter Siam, the attempts to re-establish the English-Siamese
relations found no success either, despite the enthusiasm of the
Ayutthayan court for a revival. Consequently, the Dutch remained the
most important European traders in Siam.
The improvement in the relations with the VOC which had begun in
the last years of King Süa’s reign was confirmed when the new King,
Thaisa, immediately agreed to renew the Dutch-Siamese contract on
1 March 1709. In general, he treated the Dutch in a friendly enough way.
The VOC men were, for instance, invited to attend the tonsure ceremo-
ny of the King’s eldest son, which they understood to be considered ‘one
of the most magnificent and most esteemed feasts’.10 It was not all plain
sailing, disputes over trade tended to accumulate. However, the tension
was interrupted by King Thaisa’s death and the following conflict of suc-
cession in 1733.
In 1732, when King Thaisa’s relatively peaceful and stable reign was
drawing to an end because of his fatal illness, Ayutthaya politics fell back
into its former pattern: a conflict of succession. This time it ended with
the victory the following year of Prince Phon, who then assumed the
throne as King Borommakot at the age of about fifty-two. He was neither
a stranger to the Dutch, nor was his ambition unknown to them. As the
Wangna Prince, he had already been active in foreign trade, sometimes
using the VOC to transport his factors and goods overseas, for instance,
to Surat.11 The Dutch also reported that, in 1732, when King Thaisa
became very ill, Prince Phon started mobilizing forces, unfortunately
underestimating his brother’s remaining strength. King Thaisa sentenced
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 183

one of the Prince’s prominent courtiers to death for having recruited

10,000-12,000 men upcountry for the purpose of seizing the royal palace
as soon as the King died. Consequently, Prince Phon and his sons had
themselves ordained as monks in September of that year to avoid being
prosecuted. This affected the Dutch as well. From a practical point of
view, it meant that the VOC had lost a connection to the court. Since the
Prince was in the monkhood he gave no audiences, and as he had lost the
King’s favour, the Dutch could not inquire how King Thaisa reacted to
their threat to withdraw from Ayutthaya.12 Financially, the Company also
made a considerable loss on the debt which the Prince owed to it, because
he had now theoretically retreated from a profane, business life. Lastly,
both the expected death of the King and the movements of the rival
factions at court had thrown the kingdom into confusion, which subse-
quently raised the price of rice and delayed the departure of the VOC
ships.13
At last, King Thaisa died at ten o’clock in the morning of 13 January
1733. Around six o’clock in the evening, the Dutch heard cannon shots
from the direction of the city which marked the beginning of the fight-
ing between Prince Phon and his nephews. This struggle lasted three days
till 16 January. Thaisa’s eldest son, Chaofa Naren (in his conferred rank,
Kromkhun Surentharaphithak), had been a monk since 1716 and was not
involved with this succession conflict. Chaofa Aphai, who was, according
to the Thai chronicles, his father’s choice to succeed, and Chaofa Paramet
tried to seize the royal palace immediately after Thaisa’s death. Thai
sources mention that they were defeated by Phon’s leading official, Khun
Chamnan Channarong. The Dutch reported that the two princes fled but
were arrested and finally executed on 18 February.14
The new King rewarded Khun Chamnan Channarong with the pow-
erful office of Phrakhlang and promoted him to Chao Phraya Chamnan
Borirak. With their business uppermost in their minds, the Dutch
responded to this new development by sending their interpreter to con-
gratulate the new Phrakhlang and ask for an opportunity to discuss busi-
ness with him. The Minister was, however, occupied with interrogating
those who had served the opposition. Since a considerable number of the
officials had been supporting Thaisa’s sons, Borommakot’s enthronement
was followed by a large-scale purge and the appointment of many new
khunnang. According to the Dutch, the King initially spared the life of his
brother’s Chinese Phrakhlang, who had quickly sought protection in the
monkhood and presumably still had allies at court. His respite was brief
as he was later forced out of the temple, and killed by two Malay
Muslims. The Dutch heard that it was Borommakot’s eldest son, Chaofa
Thammathibet (Kromkhun Senaphithak), who had ordered this assassi-
nation, though reportedly not without the King’s knowledge.15 In fact, the
184 CHAPTER SEVEN

new ruler almost had to pay the price for the murder of this Chinese
grandee. In 1734, when the King and his court had left the city for a
while, some 400 Chinese tried to seize the royal palace but were defeated.
A section of the Chinese people in Ayutthaya resented the fall from
prominence of their community and the death of their patron.16
In general, Borommakot’s policy did not break with those of his pred-
ecessors, its main line being to strengthen royal control over internal pol-
itics and foreign trade. He used demonstrations of public piety and the
support of Buddhism to help legitimize his rule. Instantly, he was prag-
matic enough to be ready to share a part of his wealth and power with his
officials, whose support he needed.17
King Borommakot not only continued active participation in interna-
tional trade but also pursued the tendency to reduce Dutch commercial
privileges in Siam which had begun under his father.18 This came as a sur-
prise and disappointment to the Dutch, who had hoped that, given the
good relationship they had had with Prince Phon, they would benefit
upon his enthronement.19 The fiercest Dutch critic of the King was
Opperhoofd Theodorus van den Heuvel, whose directorship (1735-40)
was plagued by many disputes with the court, for which his tactless
behaviour was partly responsible. His conduct earned him such pejorative
descriptions as ‘unpredictable’, ‘not trustworthy’ and ‘a man without
brains’ by the Siamese.20 His depiction of King Borommakot was fairly
typical of the image of the Siamese King in Dutch eyes: greedy and arbi-
trary.21 Van den Heuvel warned the Company to handle this ruler, who
would easily take anything which displeased him as an offence, carefully.
Because he claimed to rule perfectly and to surpass all his predecessors in
that capacity, he had to be honoured and humoured in the way that he nor-
mally was flattered by his courtiers, [this] being the only way to please him
and win his favour for oneself.22
The Dutchman did not understand that what he considered ‘flattery’ was
an intrinsic part of the court protocol governing the relationship between
the ruler and his servants. In Van den Heuvel’s attitude towards Siamese
court protocol and King Borommakot, there are echoes of Van Vliet’s
opinions of King Prasatthong and his court a hundred years earlier.
The Dutch believed that Borommakot’s financial position was pre-
carious. It is possible that he had to bear various costs for winning alle-
giance among the courtiers and for having inherited financial problems
from his brother, such as the debts to the VOC.23 Van den Heuvel also
ascribed the difficulty of trading in Siam to the fact that the King had
about eighty children, all of whom tried to enrich themselves.24 Not even
the prominent officials dared to protest to the King about his children’s
malpractices. The khunnang were trapped by their fear of the King’s bru-
tality and the permanent state of uncertainty about their status. The com-
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 185

moners on the other hand were miserably muzzled and persecuted by the
King’s favourites to such an extent that it had become a ‘mortal sin’ to
own more than others did. Van den Heuvel believed that the common
people were dissatisfied with the ‘stagnation of trade’. Obviously, the
commercial slow-down and the absence of rights to private property dis-
turbed the Dutch most. Van den Heuvel also wrote that many people
anticipated that the King, who was suffering from goitre, would not live
long, and that he was, therefore, indulgent of such wrongdoing by his
family members and officials, even claiming part of the booty for himself.
Van den Heuvel tried to convince his superiors in Batavia that some offi-
cials as well as the commoners were dissatisfied with the behaviour of the
royal family members and secretly yearned for revolt and change.25 His
analysis, or rather wishful thinking, proved unsound. There was no coup
d’état led by any khunnang and only a small popular revolt in Lopburi.26
The political struggles remained faction fights among the chao—the
King’s sons themselves—as we shall see later in this chapter.
After King Borommakot had successfully consolidated his power, his
attention focused on trade, including the unfinished business with the
VOC. In the last years of King Thaisa’s reign, the Company had already
insisted that it would accept only cash, tin, elephants’ teeth, and gum
resin as payment from the Siamese court for its goods, and no sappan-
wood, which it had received in far too great quantities. The Siamese court
now restricted access to many important goods and forced the Dutch to
buy these only from the King’s factors. The Company and the Crown
quarrelled over the pricing of many goods, especially Indian textiles and
silverware imported by the Dutch.27 The tense relations between the
Siamese court and the VOC employees in Siam became obvious in 1736
and led to the withdrawal of the Dutch from the Thai kingdom in 1741.
The combination of the King’s determination and the lack of any power-
ful friends at court did not facilitate the Dutch position. The Deputy
Phrakhlang, Okphra Phiphatkosa, whom Van den Heuvel described as the
‘most experienced, pious and well-intentioned’ among all the Siamese
Ministers, was severely flogged for trying to defend the VOC before the
King, even ‘without respect for the location’, namely in a temple. This
friend of the Dutch had apparently overestimated his influence on the
King. In this case, the Phrakhlang, who was described by the Dutch as
‘good but inexperienced in state affairs’, was prudent enough not to try to
help the Dutch. Upon hearing of Phiphatkosa’s fate, the Opperhoofd
lamented that the Siamese court was a place ‘where no truth at all exists
and where it is now a crime to speak out the truth. Often the aftermath
[of speaking the truth] can have bad consequences.’28
Indeed, up to the beginning of 1737, the Siamese court had dealt with
the Dutch harshly on several occasions. In April 1736, the Siamese offi-
186 CHAPTER SEVEN

cials accused the keeper of the warehouse Amsterdam, Geert Cornelisz

Lans, of illegal possession of opium. After having protested in vain that
the Siamese demand to search the warehouse would violate the ‘old cus-
tom’ of Dutch immunity, the Opperhoofd had to consent to the search but
demanded that it took place in the presence of Company employees.
Although, in the end, one of Lans’ servants confessed ‘under torture’ that
she was responsible for bringing in the opium, the officials insisted that
Lans, too, had to be punished. To pacify the Siamese, the Dutch decided
to give the warehouse keeper a beating on his buttocks. Apparently not
completely appeased, the officials threatened to keep the Amsterdam
under surveillance.29
In early 1737, the Siamese authorities chased people away from the
VOC settlement, prevented boats from calling at its lodge, prohibited the
Dutch from buying food, and intercepted the letters from the
Amsterdam, thereby interrupting the communication between the lodge
and the ships lying at anchor at the river mouth. The court even demand-
ed that the Dutch return the rice which they had lawfully obtained as
provisions for the outgoing ship. Lastly, the Siamese laid siege to the VOC
lodge with armed boats and cannons installed on the city wall trained
on it.30
The harassment continued outside Ayutthaya: King Borommakot
ordered that anyone who was caught selling tin to the Dutch in Ligor
would risk confiscation of his property and death (his dead body would
be exposed in front of the VOC lodge there). Rumour spread among local
people that the King would throw the Dutch out of Siam. Despite the
rule, when a Chinese was arrested for bringing tin to the Dutch lodge, he
was released by ‘the usual means by which one can win all the Siamese
processes’—bribery. The VOC Resident in Ligor, however, did not recom-
mend the Company risk buying tin without permission because the King
was obviously targeting the Dutch.31
At this point, King Borommakot may have been afraid that he had
pushed the Dutch too far—because his purpose was not to drive them
away but to press them into submission—and consequently he changed
his tactics in dealing with them, by using ‘splendour’ to awe them. His
confidence in dealing with foreigners, which is reminiscent of that of
Prasatthong and Narai, can be traced back to the days when he was still
the Uparat. In 1730, on the advice of a Siamese courtier, the Dutch had
tried to improve their connection with the then Prince Phon by asking for
his permission to view the bier made for the cremation of a highly
respected, learned monk who had taught members of the royal family.
By permission of the Prince and, of course, King Thaisa, Opperhoofd
Van Alderwereld, his assistant Volkaert and their wives, the scribes, and
the interpreter attended the cremation. Incidentally, this is the only men-
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 187

tion I have found in Dutch sources that the wives of VOC employees ever
participated in a court ceremony. The Dutch were offered tea, candied
fruits, and betel, in a small pavilion built specially for them. They were
also allowed to pay homage to the King and his family from fairly close
by.
The Dutch described the bier, made ‘according to the custom’ and by
order of Prince Phon himself, as representing the shape of a gilded pago-
da under a soaring arched roof of linen and carrying on its top the body
of the deceased monk in a coffin. Van Alderwereld did not seem to be
much impressed by this bier, which he found to be merely ‘somewhat dig-
nified’ but the Siamese regarded it as ‘extraordinary’. This ‘colossus’—
implying its large size—was placed on heavy sleds to be dragged forward
for half a mile. Then again, the Dutch were served with food on a com-
plete set of silver service, which was prepared and served in a ‘somewhat’
European way. The bier, which was ‘deliberately’ brought very close to the
Dutch shelter, was moved by 500-600 men with about 4,000 others who
now and then relieved each other. Though not much impressed by the
ceremony, the Dutch expressed the customary gratitude to King Thaisa
and Prince Phon.32
In March 1737, Borommakot, now the ruling King himself, invited
the VOC men to join the annual journey to Phra Phutthabat, the sacred
place situated north of Ayutthaya, which housed the ‘Buddha’s Foot-
print’. This invitation was ‘part of a diplomatic game over trade policies
and profits’ when Siamese-Dutch commercial relations stood at the
nadir.33 The Dutch regarded the sudden change in the King’s tactics with
suspicion, but they saw no use in declining the invitation.34 Borommakot
was determined to convince the Dutch that they once more were a
favoured nation of the King of Siam and consequently persuade them to
accept his commercial terms. It was a unique opportunity never before
granted to any other Dutchman. Van den Heuvel kept a dagregister of this
eighteen-day journey, during which the Siamese court treated the Dutch
excellently. This journal has been translated into English and was pub-
lished in 1997 with discussions about its context; therefore, I shall discuss
here just some relevant points.35
Throughout this journey, the King and his courtiers were extremely
attentive to the Dutch party. They made sure that the Dutchmen missed
neither the magnificence of the court—for example, the royal water pro-
cession, the court dances—nor its hospitality. Van den Heuvel indeed did
not miss all these and the chance to describe them in detail. The court
even provided not only bearers for the ‘corpulent’ Opperhoofd and his
entourage, it also allowed them to share the King’s drinking water
(because the local water contained a high degree of saltpetre). The Dutch-
men were told that the court accorded them the same honours it accord-
188 CHAPTER SEVEN

ed to the Cambodian King who was then in exile in Ayutthaya.36 Never-

theless, they remained cautious.
This morning we received several visits from mandarins and court officials
who had apparently been sent on purpose to spy on our behaviour and on
whatever we might say about the King and his court. Consequently we
behaved very cheerfully and praised and extolled everything to the skies,
and showed the greatest satisfaction with the King’s treatment.37
Apart from that, the Dutch took great pains to thank the Phrakhlang for
all the favours and honours they received, although they knew that he
actually contributed only little to these privileges which came directly
from the King.38
Generally speaking, the Dutch tried to conform to the court protocol,
but on one point they did not: they strongly rejected the idea of paying
respect to the Buddha’s Footprint, which they considered to be against
their conscience and religion. While some courtiers were annoyed with
the Dutch rejection, King Borommakot accepted it, reasoning, ‘who is
not faithful to his god, is not faithful to his master’.39 Hence, the Dutch
were allowed to view the footprint without making a gesture of reverence.
Yet, it should be borne in mind that Borommakot’s religious tolerance
was only so liberal when it did not concern his own subjects. Dutch and
French sources mention that, in 1730, King Thaisa decreed an anti-
Catholic restriction, forbidding priests to baptize and convert his subjects
and to preach in Thai. At that time, the French believed that Prince Phon
was behind this move. Dutch records only suggest an indirect connection.
The relatives of a young man under the Prince’s command had com-
plained that he was practising Christianity. According to the Dutch, this
young man was a son of a deceased official of the Prince and had been
brought up in the French seminary and been taught the catechism. King
Thaisa forced him to adjure his faith and ordered an investigation into
what kind of people became Christian and what their motives to convert
were. Unfortunately, there is no record of the outcome.40
The journey to Phra Phutthabat also gave the VOC men a rare oppor-
tunity to meet and observe the members of Siamese elite society. Most
interesting was the interview with a prominent monk whom the Dutch
found to be a ‘polite, talkative, and very inquisitive man’. First, the monk
asked them about European buildings and life-style. Then, an intense
discussion broke out about the eclipse of the moon which occurred at that
moment. It shows a big divide between the Dutch and Thai worldviews.
The Dutch explained this natural phenomenon from a Western scientif-
ic outlook. The monk, who represented the Siamese elite, opposed them
in almost every point: he argued that the eclipse of the sun and the moon
was accidental (not predictable) and the world was square and stood on a
firm foundation. Apparently, there was a difference in opinion not only
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 189

between the Dutch and the Siamese, but also among the Siamese them-
selves. When Chaofa ‘Watpothaij’, reportedly known as a ‘foolish prince’,
insisted that the world stood on a foundation because ‘if it were not so,
how could the world have carried our god, who was so heavy that even a
hundred thousand men could not lift him’, the Dutch as well as the monk
responded with a grin.41
King Borommakot’s courtesy continued into January 1738, when he
had the Dutch invited to the cremation of Kromluang Aphainuchit, one
of his queens of the first rank, who had died on 6 August of the previous
year. This two-day ceremony took place in the third, innermost forecourt.
Van den Heuvel and his men had to fight their way through the throng
of people to reach the ceremonial site. The place was richly decorated
with sculptures, such as ‘tigers, horses with wings, demons with eagle
heads, and griffins’. Part of the space was allocated to the ‘pavilions and
towers’ serving as stages for the shadow play and other performances.
Interestingly, European and Chinese rarities—unfortunately no details
are given—were displayed as well.42 Apparently, objects made in Europe
were still valued among the Thai elite. The Siamese court later asked the
Dutch to have copies of two pieces of round-shaped glassware made in
the Netherlands. Van den Heuvel wrote that these objects were meant to
be a remembrance of the late Queen and a sacrifice to her ‘wandering
spirit’. Probably, they were actually meant for keeping her relics.43
The procession bearing the Queen’s remains approached in great cere-
monial order. Firstly, a hundred men walked along with flowers in their
hands and their faces directed towards the corpse. They were followed by
eleven pairs of wooden statues of animals carrying small ‘towers’ on their
backs, which were pulled forward pair by pair by a number of men. Of
the first pair—two lions with eagle heads—, one statue carried the flame,
and another bore wax candles, sandalwood, eaglewood, and other com-
bustible materials needed for the pyre. In the third place came the three
ceremonial carriages. The first and smallest carriage in the forefront car-
ried an old monk who was reading aloud from a ‘Siamese book’—the
Buddhist canon. The middle one carried one of the princes—probably
the Queen’s only son, Chaofa Thammathibet. Lastly, the biggest carriage
in the rear bore the body of the late Queen enclosed in ‘sanko’ (kot), an
enormous, round, gilded container with a gold lid which functioned as a
coffin. Following this, five of the King’s sons were carried on canopied
chairs, on the shoulders of the men. Then came drummers and trum-
peters, and rows of all prominent officials, every one clad in white, with
high white head-cloths, and finally King Borommakot appeared, clad in
silver cloth and sitting on an uncanopied golden seat.
As had been the pilgrimage to Phra Phutthabat, the cremation was an
occasion for the King to display his superiority, not only spiritually but
190 CHAPTER SEVEN

also materially. After the procession, the King personally offered yellow
robes and items necessary to their daily lives to the monks. Gold and sil-
ver Siamese coins pricked in limes—so that they would not get lost in the
sand—were strewn among the scrambling folk as a way of giving alms. As
it had become their practice in Siam on such occasions, the Dutch gener-
ously and publicly presented the King with 140 pieces of various sorts of
textiles.
King Borommakot wanted to know what the Opperhoofd thought of
the funerary appurtenances and whether he had enjoyed the ceremony.
Van den Heuvel answered properly that he was impressed by the event
but he would have enjoyed it better, if the cause for the ceremony had not
been so painful for the King. Borommakot replied, also properly, that he
appreciated that the foreigners felt such sympathy for his personal loss.
In the meantime, the Siamese court had actually ceded to the Dutch
demands for payment of the King’s debt, delivering tin and substituting
ivory and gum resin for the sappanwood. However, in the course of 1738,
the Siamese began to believe that the Dutch had distorted the price of the
textiles previously agreed. At this point, King Borommakot again altered
the manner in which he treated the Dutch. The Company interpreters
were flogged and put in chains on the King’s orders. The court also threat-
ened to cancel the privileged tax rate of the VOC.44 After Batavia had
decided on a withdrawal from Siam in July 1740, the court turned open-
ly hostile to the VOC. In September, it issued an order to inspect all
incoming Dutch ships at the toll house, claiming that it needed to con-
trol opium smuggling. The Dutch protested on the grounds that such an
inspection not only violated the traditional immunity of their ships in
Siam, but was also against the Company rule, which said that the lock on
the cargo hatch was to be broken only by the men in charge of the comp-
toir in Ayutthaya. This time, the King acquiesced and cancelled the
inspection of the Dutch ships.45 It was a temporary lull. By December the
court had palisades placed in the river and around the fortresses in
Bangkok to block the departure of the Dutch. In the following month,
the batteries at the river mouth were re-fortified and Siamese ships start-
ed cruising around. A Dutch attempt to obtain help from a priest in the
French camp who had mastered the Thai language to negotiate with the
court failed when the French were prohibited from conversing with the
Dutch. More sinisterly, the Phrakhlang ordered the Dutchmen to make a
list of their Dutch-Siamese offspring and prohibited them from taking
these children out of the country. The court robbed the indigenous
women who had children with Europeans of their security as well as that
of their families and friends.46
In this already precarious situation, Van den Heuvel’s successor,
Willem de Ghij (1740-1) was faced with two additional problems. First,
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 191

drunken Company soldiers assaulted some Siamese people, including

monks, injuring one of them fatally. Insisting on their extra-territorial
rights, the Dutch refused to hand over their countrymen to the
Phrakhlang and were forced to pay compensation to the injured Siamese.47
It was, however, the second case that the court seemed to take more seri-
ously. Floris van Essen, the warehouse supervisor, tried to smuggle his
child born of a local woman, its nurse and her grandson out of Siam
aboard a Dutch ship. To deter other Europeans from trying to do the
same, the King ordered that the nurse and her grandson, who confessed
to Van Essen’s plan upon their arrest, be flogged with forty lashes in the
Dutch lodge, in the presence of the Europeans, and then be taken back
to the Phrakhlang. To avoid any further complications, the Dutch had to
accept this order. The Siamese court was still not satisfied and demanded
that the Opperhoofd punish Van Essen; otherwise, the Siamese would take
him to the Amsterdam and behead him there! Worried because of his
child, Van Essen, who was actually a competent employee, suffered a
burst of temporary insanity and disobeyed the Company’s orders. Not
only did he leave his post at the warehouse to come to the lodge in
Ayutthaya, but he also lied to the Siamese authorities stating that he had
bought the nurse (she must have been somebody’s slave) and wanted to
send her to Ligor. Under pressure from the court, De Ghij and his coun-
cil decided to flog Van Essen—in the presence of the Siamese officials but
without any European witnesses—, to suspend his salary, and to send him
to Batavia immediately.48
In this state of play, the Dutch departed at the end of February 1741,
leaving their property in Ayutthaya and at Pak Nam in the care of
Christoffel, Nicolaas, and Pieter Wens. These three brothers were in the
Company service but not allowed to leave the country because they were
half-Siamese.49 In that year, the High Government in Batavia showed its
resentment of the way the Siamese had treated the Company and its per-
sonnel; it decided to open the letters from King Borommakot and the
Phrakhlang dispensing with the usual ceremonial pomp.50
Up till now, the VOC employees had been meticulous in their obser-
vation of Siamese court protocol and had not failed to read even the
smallest signs of the court’s favour. The Dutchmen who joined the trip to
Phra Phutthabat still understood that King Borommakot turning his face
towards them during the water procession was a way of showing his
favour towards them.51 They also still knew how to show their gratitude
to the court, ritualistically. However, they were not able to take advantage
of the King’s conciliatory gesture.
Although Van den Heuvel had stirred up irritation at court with his
non-compliant attitude, he was, according to custom, given the Siamese
rank and title of Okluang Aphaiwichit, together with the usual insignia
192 CHAPTER SEVEN

of a gold betel box and a sword. He explained to Batavia that, having

refused these gifts and the title four times, he dared no longer do so for
fear of incurring the King’s wrath. Unlike many of his predecessors who
were proud of the honours they received, Van den Heuvel interpreted this
as an example of Borommakot’s capricious temper.52 The Dutchman may
have been looking for offences, but, perhaps, he was also confused by the
changing—diplomatic and despotic—faces of King Borommakot.
The Dutch and the Siamese had different views on how to improve
their increasingly sour relations. During the journey to Phra Phutthabat,
when King Borommakot wanted to give Van den Heuvel personal gifts,
the Opperhoofd refused them and suggested that the King bestow his
favour on the Company rather than on its employees who were only tem-
porary residents of his kingdom.53 The monarch seemed to believe that he
could reach his goal by manipulating the Dutchmen in Ayutthaya and
did not try to deal directly with the High Government in Batavia, by such
means as sending a special diplomatic mission or gifts. That the Company
men could not make use of the King’s intention to reconcile was decided
less by their ability to mediate between different cultures than by the
Company policy they were obliged to follow.

The VOC and the Eighteenth-Century Siamese Officials

In the eighteenth century, the Dutch and the khunnang continued their
oscillating love-hate relationship. The officials were still in the invidious
position of remaining dependent on the king’s favour and disfavour. Yet,
whether the Dutch were aware of it or not, their reports from this period
reveal a picture of the officials who were confident in displaying their
wealth and status as well as enjoying a certain degree of freedom of action.
As Dutch sources reveal, direct social interaction between them and the
khunnang increased, or became more noticeable, especially during the
reign of King Borommakot. The dagregister of 1740 by De Ghij depicts a
lively social contact, even during one of the most troubled periods in their
relationship. The Phrakhlang invited the Opperhoofd and his assistant to
his mother’s cremation. Soon after, Okphra Phiphatkosa bade the Dutch
attend his grandmother’s cremation. This courtier soon gave another feast
when he was promoted to be the Head of the Royal Treasury, as Okya
Sombattiban. The Dutch noted that he was a grandson of the ‘under-
king, Chao Phraya Thammathirat’, presumably Chao Phraya Chamnan
Borirak, and they knew that both men were the King’s favourites.54 Even
such middle-ranking officials of the Phrakhlang Ministry as Okluangs
Raksasombat and Choduek, also invited the VOC men to their children’s
tonsure ceremonies. These occasions were followed by meals which, inter-
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 193

estingly, were prepared by Chinese or Portuguese cooks. In the case of

prominent officials like the Phrakhlang and the new Okya Sombattiban,
their feasts included various kinds of indigenous amusements and fire-
work displays—recreations similar to those the Dutch observed during
the trip to Phra Phutthabat. For the khunnang, these social obligations
were more than a way to display their wealth: they gave them the chance
to gain some more, for the guests were obliged to contribute some gifts to
their hosts—a fact that the Dutch always considered burdensome.55
Another indication in Dutch records of the increasing independence of
the Siamese officials was connected to the practice of the recognitiegelden
(or recognitiepenningen). Instead of paying some taxes to the court, the
VOC was obliged to give the officials of the Treasury Department, the
Khlang, a sum of twenty catties of silver per year for their services. For the
Siamese officials, the occasional gifts and rewards from foreign merchants
like the Dutch had always been an important source of personal income.
For as long as it had been there, the VOC had been in the habit of offer-
ing gifts and money to individual officials. It is not clear who had initiat-
ed this system of ‘service fee’, but, at least from the beginning of the eigh-
teenth century, the Khlang had been collectively receiving, or demanding,
this fee which may have helped assure a regular income for its workers. In
1720, Wijbrand Blom mentioned that this practice had already become a
custom by his time and could not be avoided without damaging the
Company.56
Despite Blom’s admonition, his instruction was not or could not be
followed by his successors; this failure engendered more troubles with the
Siamese officials. In 1749, the Khlang formally required the VOC to pay
the recognitiegelden, which had been stopped since its withdrawal in 1741.
This must have been a serious issue since the Company had formally
returned to Siam in 1748. The Siamese warned that, if the Dutch still
ignored this demand, all their privileges would be cancelled: they would
have to pay taxes and the textiles they imported would be paid for only
with tin and sappanwood, and not in cash.57 Resident 58 Nicolaas Bang
(1748-60) believed that the recognitiegelden were so important that, to
persuade the Dutch to pay them again, the Phrakhlang was even willing
to make some compromises: to ask the Governor-General to re-open the
Company office in Ligor, and to promise the Dutch an exclusive right to
Ligor tin.59 But the payment of the recognitiegelden remained an unsolved
issue.
In 1757, the Siamese, again, demanded that the Dutch pay the service
fee not only for that particular year but for the previous sixteen years as
well. Bang insisted that the Company would rather close down its office
again than pay it. Faced with this outright refusal, the Khlang officials
brought the issue to King Borommakot’s attention. This time, it was the
194 CHAPTER SEVEN

Siamese who complained about the Dutch to the King, rather than the
other way around. Consequently, the King ruled in favour of his men and
ordered that, should the Dutch insist on not paying the recognitiegelden,
the Royal Treasury was allowed to deduct an equal sum from the King’s
return gifts to Batavia. In his letter to the Governor-General, the
Phrakhlang, who now played the role of middleman only, confirmed that,
despite his attempts to arbitrate, the Royal Treasury insisted upon deduct-
ing twenty-five bahar of tin from the royal gifts as compensation.60
The quarrel over the recognitiegelden continued even after Borom-
makot’s reign. The Dutch demanded that the court return, among other
things, the above-mentioned part deducted from the King’s previous
return gifts. In 1758, the Company protested by sending a ship to
Ayutthaya without the usual gifts to the King and the Phrakhlang. In his
turn, the Minister demanded that the Dutch deliver the gifts, or face a
breach in their friendship. The translator of the Dutch, who was helping
the Minister check the contents of the letters to Batavia, heard some
Moor officials urge the Phrakhlang to insist upon the demand for the
recognitiegelden. Bang believed that the Moor faction at court wanted to
undermine the Dutch position in Siam in favour of the English, whom,
in the person of a certain ‘Mr. Ellias’ of Surat, it was helping to gain access
to the Siamese market.61 Despite all the intrigue, Batavia’s strategy seems
to have worked because, in the end, the Phrakhlang reportedly admitted
that it was more urgent that the new King, Ekathat, fill his empty treas-
ury with the VOC gifts than pacify his officials with the Dutch money.62

The VOC as a Cultural Broker between Siam and Kandy

Since the eleventh century, Sri Lanka had exported Theravada Buddhism
to South-East Asia. However, the considerable decline of the Sri Lankan
sangha in the following centuries—as a result of the expansion of the
Portuguese Roman Catholic and the Dutch Reformed Churches—led to
the periodic importation of Burmese, Arakanese, and Thai monks to help
revive the institution, in order to facilitate the re-introduction of the orig-
inal Sri Lankan version of Theravada Buddhism. In the mid- eighteenth
century, the revival of the sangha again became an issue as part of the pol-
icy of the kings of Hindu-Nayakkar origins from South India then on the
throne of Buddhist-Sinhalese Kandy, Sri Vijaya Rajasimha (1739-47) and
Kirti Sri Rajasimha (1747-87).63 Consequently, from the 1740s, making
use of their contacts, the Kandyans tried to recruit the help of the Dutch
to procure Theravada Buddhist monks in Siam.
This Dutch involvement must be understood, firstly, in the context of
the VOC’s policy towards the Kandyan court, and, secondly, in the con-
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 195

text of its opportunistic policy in Siam. Since the expulsion of the

Portuguese from Ceylon between 1656 and 1658, the VOC had assumed
control of the coastal regions around the island. The independent King-
dom of Kandy in the interior of the island was thereby transformed into
an enclave surrounded by the Dutch territories, and consequently it had
to rely on VOC transportation for its overseas activities, such as sending
embassies to foreign lands. Despite this dependence, the Company need-
ed the co-operation of the Kandyan court to do business there, such as
the procurement of cinnamon and its transportation through the territo-
ry of the kingdom, and it tried to maintain unfaltering good relations
with the Kandyan Kings. Since its withdrawal from Siam in 1741, the
VOC had been sending one ship a year to Siam under the supervision of
a commissioner but was now seeking to improve its relationship with the
Siamese court. Therefore, the desire of Kandy to contact Ayutthaya must
have offered the Dutch a heaven-sent opportunity to re-establish its trad-
ing position there as well.
The transportation of Siamese monks to Kandy in 1751-3 has become
a famous case because of its historically significant success, and the event
and its implications have been studied in detail by various scholars.64
What is more relevant to my investigation of Dutch perceptions of the
Siamese court is the earlier but abortive Dutch-Kandyan expedition to
recruit monks from Siam in 1747. The initial attempt made by King Sri
Vijaya in 1741 had been stopped by the VOC’s withdrawal from Siam
but that did not change the King’s determination. It was not long before
the Dutch felt the need to placate him and to prevent him from seeking
help from the English. The clue that the Dutch at least understood what
they were dealing with was that a VOC employee, Abraham Arnouts,
confirmed to the Kandyan court, from the long experience of the Dutch
with Siam, that the kind of religion practised in that kingdom was the
same one as that in Pegu where Kandy had wanted to recruit monks
before.65
Finally, in mid-1747, VOC Commissioner Gerrit Fek arrived in
Ayutthaya with Sri Vijaya’s envoy and informed the Siamese court that
the Kandyans had come to fetch the monks and their retinue whom it
had been promised. He said that he had brought two ships for the pur-
pose, one for the monks and one for the Siamese envoys. The Ayutthayan
court received the embassy well. The Dutch and the Kandyans were
allowed to go on a river excursion around the capital to see the sights, dur-
ing which trip they saw, among other things, the royal palace, the royal
ceremonial barges, and the royal elephants taking a bath. They were also
invited to attend an evening feast given by the Phrakhlang. While their
entourage was passing by the palace, they were asked to make an obei-
sance to King Borommakot, who was present not far from there, but
196 CHAPTER SEVEN

hidden from their sight, to observe them ‘out of curiosity or rather pleas-
ure’. The Dutch thought that the King was not merely curious to see the
visiting embassy but also keen to know how they reacted to the splendour
which he could provide.66
Despite the good reception of the embassy, the Siamese court did not
make things easy for the Dutch. Fek was troubled by the fact that the
Phrakhlang wanted to receive not only the letter addressed to him by the
First Minister of Kandy, but also that from the Ceylonese patriarch to his
Siamese counterpart. He believed that the latter should be given directly
to the ‘high priest’ of Siam and that what the Siamese told him about the
illness of their patriarch (which made him unavailable to receive the let-
ter and gifts from Kandy personally) was simply an excuse by the officials
who wanted to claim more gifts for themselves. Meanwhile, the VOC
itself had also strayed from the diplomatic etiquette. Prior to shipping the
Kandyan envoys to Ayutthaya, Batavia had opened and translated a letter
from the King of Siam to his counterpart in Kandy to look for any infor-
mation that might give it an advantage.67
Fek referred the Siamese officials to their letter to Kandy—supposedly
the one Batavia had inappropriately opened68—which mentioned that the
Ayutthayan court would provide Buddhist monks, if the Kandyans them-
selves would come to Siam to obtain them. The Siamese now replied that
they had meant that ambassadors with credentials should come on a ship
of the Kandyan King himself, and not one of the Company, to pick up
their monks. They also accused the Dutch of having no respect for
Buddhist monks. In their argument, they not only recalled the incident
in 1741 when VOC soldiers molested some monks in Ayutthaya. The
Dutch had also been seen to walk over the monks’ heads—the most
sacred part of the body according to Thai belief—and had killed animals
in the monks’ presence. The culturally insensitive Fek could not under-
stand the reasoning of the Siamese and regarded these as trivial accusa-
tions. He told them that the Kandyan King had no ships and sailors of
his own and was dependent on the Dutch for overseas transportation. At
this point, he began to despair that the Siamese would provide any
monks.69 He also believed that if the Dutch could not obtain the Siamese
monks now, the court of Kandy would be hard to satisfy and the
Phrakhlang might also refuse to grant them the right to trade in Siam for
that year.70
In the end, King Borommakot did indeed refuse to send Siamese
monks to Kandy. According to the High Government, the Siamese court
was concerned with the death of King Sri Vijaya in that year and required
that the new King of Kandy ‘send a vessel directly from Ceylon, without
any Europeans, but with a distinguished embassy and proper [letters of ]
credential’ and ‘sufficient gifts’.71 Kitsiri Malalgoda has asserted that Sri
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 197

Vijaya’s death may have made Borommakot uncertain about the religious
policy of his successor. However, K. W. Goonewardena has suggested that
the rejection was caused by the Ayutthayan court’s suspicions of Dutch
intentions.72
Goonewardena argues that the Siamese did have good grounds for sus-
pecting the ‘good faith’ of the Dutch about the Kandyan mission. There
were a number of reasons to substantiate this. By bringing along many
goods and two ships (instead of the usual one a year), the Dutch made
their commercial purpose rather blatant. There is a possibility that the
Phrakhlang had learnt from a Kandyan envoy that the Kandyans proba-
bly knew nothing of the letter sent by the Siamese King to the Kandyan
ruler via Batavia. He may also have heard from this envoy—who was only
the third-ranking person in his mission—that the Dutch had asked the
first and second ambassadors of Kandy to remain in Batavia, with the let-
ter and presents from Kandy to Siam. Goonewardena has argued that the
appearance of the first and second envoys, as well as the letters and gifts
from Kandy, would have left no room for the Dutch to derive some ben-
efit from this mission, and that, without the envoys and letters of creden-
tials, Fek would not be able to manipulate the embassy and find such
opportunities to further the Dutch interests when he led the Kandyan
envoy to meet the Phrakhlang.73 My opinion is that assuming that, from
their long relationship, the Siamese court had a good knowledge of the
Company’s way of thinking, it would be unlikely that the court would
have been disappointed that the Dutch did not do this as a matter of
‘good faith’, but for commercial interests. Consequently, it seems to me
more likely that the mission failed because the Siamese court resented the
Dutch violation of the diplomatic etiquette between Ayutthaya and
Kandy. In short, it was a Dutch diplomatic debacle in Siam, created by
the meddling of the Batavian Government and also by its local represen-
tative in Ayutthaya.
As had Van den Heuvel before him, Fek lost his patience in dealing
with the differences between European and Thai practices. He expressed
his frustration in his remarks about the Siamese ‘intrigues’ with which he
had had to struggle during the three years that he had supervised the ship-
ping between Batavia and Ayutthaya. Fek accused the Phrakhlang of giv-
ing him and the Kandyans false hopes in the beginning just to obtain
presents. To speed up the process, the Dutchman gave the court members
presents valued at about 800 rijksdaalders, mostly out of his own pocket.
The silver jug for King Borommakot, which alone cost Fek more than
300 rijksdaalders, was, however, refused by the ‘greedy’ ruler on the
grounds that the King of Siam used only a ‘golden’ jug to wash his feet.
Fek also criticized the Siamese for not tolerating any argument, even a
civilized one. The Commissioner declared that he would rather quit
198 CHAPTER SEVEN

serving the VOC than be sent to Siam again the following year. He even
recommended the Company use force to demonstrate its power, referring
to the naval blockade in the early 1660s. His frustration was so over-
whelming that he even offered his salary and his life for the proposed
plan. Undoubtedly, Batavia considered this proposal unfeasible and even-
tually dismissed Fek.74
In seeking support from the Buddhist elite, the new Kandyan King,
Kirti Sri Rajasimha, resumed the plan to obtain Siamese monks and
turned to the Dutch again. Consequently, another Kandyan delegation
was dispatched to Ayutthaya, where it was solemnly received in July
1751.75 This time, the Dutch naval officers were praised by the Kandyans
and the Siamese for their courtesy towards the envoys during the journey.
Finally, Borommakot granted Kirti Sri’s wish and agreed to send a party
of twenty-five monks, plus five Siamese envoys and their attendants, to
Ceylon. Yet, the success of the mission was less than joyful for the VOC
office in Ayutthaya, which complained about the high cost of receiving
the Kandyan embassy as it had had to provide everything from lodging,
part of the daily food (in addition to the court’s contribution), to trans-
portation, and even substitute gifts. The Kandyan envoys made a mistake
by including the robes for the high-ranking monks of Siam among the
presents for the King and the Phrakhlang, and, understandably, dared not
claim these robes back. Therefore, they asked the VOC to provide them
with about 150 pieces of cloth for the monks, which Bang had to buy
from local traders.76 Despite his relatively good insight into the politics of
the Siamese court—as we shall see later—, Bang did not pay attention to
the ritual aspect of the reception of the Kandyan embassy. His concern
was primarily financial.
After a long and arduous journey, the arrival of the Siamese monks and
envoys in mid-1753 caused great jubilation in Kandy.77 The Governor of
Dutch Ceylon, Joan Gideon Loten (1752-7), remarked that the Dutch
contribution to the revival of the Kandyan sangha facilitated the relation-
ship between the Dutch and the court of Kandy.78 However, this opti-
mism was soon replaced by renewed tension between the Dutch and King
Kirti Sri, which finally developed into a direct confrontation, the Dutch-
Kandyan War of 1766. Although the Dutch-Siamese relationship had
already improved—the court had agreed to conclude a treaty with the
VOC in 1754—by the time that the Siamese monks were brought back
safely to Ayutthaya in 1756, the Dutch were not rewarded for their serv-
ice by being accorded any special treatment by the Siamese court. Bang
still failed to obtain as much Siamese rice as the Company would have
liked to have.
The fact that this religious-diplomatic contact is well-documented in
both Sri Lankan and Thai sources reflects how Kandy and Siam perceived
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 199

its outcome positively. Simultaneously, it shows how the Dutch could be

trapped in the web of Asian diplomacy and politics.79 Moreover, the
whole affair did not end in 1756, for Siamese monks continued to be sent
back and forth between Siam and Kandy, also at the cost of the Company.

Eighteenth-Century Court Politics

Although conflicts of succession were a common feature of Ayutthayan

politics, it can be said that the underlying conditions of King Borom-
makot’s reign made the factiousness and rivalry between different factions
at court even more inevitable. The most pertinent factor was that the
King had some eighty children, many of whom—male and female—were
competing for wealth and power, a phenomenon which even a foreigner
like Van den Heuvel could not have failed to observe. King Borommakot
had made an important change in the administrative structure by replac-
ing the system of creating a few large krom (independent households) of
the chao with many minor ones. He had apparently learnt from his victo-
ry in 1733 of the political potential of a large princely household such as
his own. The smaller krom of the chao would serve to counterbalance each
other and to balance the power of those krom (administrative divisions)
of the khunnang but, individually, would not be powerful enough to pose
a threat to the throne. Nevertheless, they were instrumental in the contest
for power among Borommakot’s sons.80
In the eighteenth century, while the Dutch saw the khunnang gain
more freedom of action, such as in collecting the recognitiegelden, they
also noted the increasing economic independence of the chao from the
King’s monopoly. The krom, with their own administrative capacity, may
have enabled the princes and princesses to make a profit from the trade
of the kingdom. The Dutch undoubtedly found this situation disturbing.
In 1755, the VOC bookkeeper reported from Ligor that there was almost
nothing left for the Company trade, not only because of the tin smug-
gling by the English, but also because of the expansion of trade activities
into that province by the members of the royal family. Consequently,
Bang protested to the Siamese court about this violation of the exclusive
right of the VOC to Ligor tin laid down in the 1754 Treaty. The
Phrakhlang promised to prevent it from happening again. However, Bang
doubted—rightly so—whether the Minister would be able to keep his
word. Long before the renewal of the contract, some princes, princesses
and other grandees had been sending large amounts of cash to buy tin in
Ligor, which gave them priority over other buyers.81 In the eighteenth
century, the economy of Siam became increasingly monetized. As a result
of the growth of internal and foreign trade, production needed to be
200 CHAPTER SEVEN

encouraged: a considerable amount of the goods which used to be deliv-

ered as taxes or in lieu of corveé labour now had to be obtained with
money. This explains the significance of the recognitiegelden to the Khlang
officials, too. The chao and khunnang increased their participation in the
commerce of the kingdom, which had grown beyond the Crown’s control
and consequently became more ‘liberal’ and ‘private’.82
The Dutch in Siam had been following the power struggles within
Borommakot’s family since, as we have seen, the enthronement of the
King himself. In 1756, they witnessed the discovery of the hidden chal-
lenge to Borommakot’s rule posed by Chaofa Thammathibet, who was
the King’s eldest son and the only son born of Queen Aphainuchit (whose
cremation the Dutch had attended in 1738). Chaofa Thammathibet had
been appointed the Uparat in 1741. Best known to posterity as a great
poet, he was also a ruthless politician. The Dutch attributed the author-
ship of the cunning murder of the Chinese Phrakhlang of King Thaisa in
1733 to him. The Thai chronicles mention that, when King Borommakot
was seriously ill in 1735, Thammathibet tried to kill his cousin, Chaofa
Naren. In the event of the possible demise of King Borommakot, the
Prince may have been jealous of his cousin, who enjoyed both the King’s
favour and was popular among the people, and was anxious about the
strength of the latter’s right—as the first son of the late King Thaisa—to
claim the throne. Chaofa Naren managed to flee to tell Borommakot
about the attempt on his life. To escape the King’s wrath, Thammathibet
sought protection from his mother, who had him ordained as a monk
and, before her death, begged Borommakot to spare her son’s life. With
the King’s consent, Thammathibet eventually left the monkhood and
resumed his politically prestigious position.83
King Borommakot’s sons were divided into two main factions:
Thammathibet, Thepphinit, and Thepphiphit (who will play a more
important role later in this chapter) ranged themselves against
Chitsunthon, Sunthonthep, and Sepphakdi. The promotion of the latter
three from the conferred rank of krommun to the higher kromkhun must
have worried the Uparat because it automatically increased the number of
courtiers and phrai in their households. Thammathibet eventually had the
officials of his three rivals arrested, questioned, and flogged. In addition,
he maintained an acidic relationship with the most powerful official,
Chao Phraya Chamnan Borirak, until the latter’s death in 1753.84 The
royal chronicles suggest that Thammathibet’s fatal fall was caused by the
accusation brought by his three rival half-brothers that he had an affair
with one (or two) of the queens of the first rank.85 Bang’s short but
insightful record of 8 January 1757, however, brings to light this deadly
enmity even more clearly and gives details of the struggles of the man
whom the Dutch called the ‘Crown Prince’.86
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 201

Bang began with the fact that Prince Thammathibet had been suffer-
ing from Morbus Gallicum (syphilis) and therefore had not presented
himself to the king for a while. At the same time, he was ruling the peo-
ple within his own krom—both servants and prominent officials—with a
‘severity even greater than that of his father’. Then, he came into conflict
with a half-brother, called ‘Chao Sakeuw’ (the Prince of Sa Kaew) in the
Dutch report—who was Prince Sunthonthep87—, first because of a ‘dis-
pute over an elephant’ (no further explanation is given for this), and then
because the latter had displayed an unbecoming degree of pomp. In April
1756, Thammathibet, ‘who thought that he was allowed to do anything’,
laid siege to the court of his half-brother and forbade anyone to enter or
even pass by. Yet, ‘Chao Sakeuw’ and his sons managed to flee to the royal
palace and make a complaint to the King. Borommakot was taken com-
pletely by surprise because he had had no idea about the dispute between
the two princes. He immediately summoned the high-ranking officials to
discover whether this dispute was known to them. The khunnang admit-
ted their knowledge but insisted that they were too afraid of the ‘Crown
Prince’ to report it to the King. Upon the news of the whereabouts of
‘Chao Sakeuw’, Thammathibet immediately rushed from his court to the
royal palace to confront his opponent. But he was denied entrance by
order of the King and returned to his court.88
Unwillingly, upon his father’s summons, Thammathibet later returned
to the royal palace, carrying with him a sword and escorted by his armed
guards. Before entering the palace, he was forced to leave his men outside.
Within the palace gate, he was ordered to lay down his sword as well. The
defenceless Prince was brought before the King who asked why he came
to the palace with a weapon, and what ‘Chao Sakeuw’ had done to offend
him so much as to deserve such a harsh treatment. More importantly,
King Borommakot asked how the Prince dared to assume so much
authority while the King was still alive. He was outraged by Tham-
mathibet’s silence and so ordered his son to be imprisoned.
The ‘Crown Prince’ was placed in an isolated cell, with his hands and
feet locked in irons. No one was allowed to talk to him except with the
King’s permission. While he ate, a prince and two officials had to be pres-
ent. But Thammathibet ate hardly anything for three days. Meanwhile,
various accusations were brought against him. Borommakot appointed
‘Chao Sakeuw’ and ‘Chao Krommekiesa Poon’ (perhaps Krommun
Chitsunthon), in conjunction with Okya Chakri and the Phrakhlang, to
interrogate the prisoner. It seems that the choice of interrogators could
only be disadvantageous to the Prince. Since Thammathibet remained
silent, the King ordered he be given a flogging of twenty lashes, and then
another twenty, and his soles be burnt. Thammathibet’s most important
officials were also arrested and ‘confessed under torture’ many things
202 CHAPTER SEVEN

which implicated their master. First, they said that he had made copies of
the keys to the chambers of the King, the Queen and the princesses (this
probably means the royal consorts), with which he could enter these
rooms during the night and at other inopportune times. Secondly, they
said that he had ordered his trusted followers to buy guns and swords,
which they kept with them waiting for his order to take action. Thirdly,
they said that the Prince was responsible for the killing of many innocent
people, including some monks, as well as the breaking of some people’s
hands, fingers, and teeth. Upon learning about his son’s cruelty, the King
ordered that he be given fifty more lashes.89
During further interrogation, Thammathibet disclosed that he used
the copied keys to visit ‘four’ of the King’s principal consorts. These ladies
succumbed under the pain of torture—flogged fifty times in the King’s
presence—and admitted that Thammathibet had visited them illicitly.
They also revealed that the Prince had planned to steal into the inner
court with his armed men to assassinate the King, his family, and princi-
pal officials. Immensely upset by this knowledge, the King ordered his
men to give the ‘Crown Prince’ fifty more lashes and to brand his fore-
head, arms, and legs. Eventually, the Prince, the four royal consorts, and
some of his prominent officials died as a result of the torture. His death
itself pacified the King enough to enable him to commence the annual
journey to Wat Phra Non, which was situated a two-day journey from
Ayutthaya.90
Bang did not pass any moral judgement on the event and related the
story in a matter-of-fact way. Despite some different information, the
outline of his tale, especially about the deadly enmity among the Thai
princes, and the bizarre details of the punishments are in tune with the
story as told in the royal chronicles of Ayutthaya. This means that, as
Cleur had before him, he must have had an informant who had inside
knowledge of court affairs. It also reflects the strength of King
Borommakot who, though conceding part of his wealth and control to
his children and servants, was powerful enough to take on the challenge
and even benefited from the factiousness among his men.
In early 1758, when the long reign of King Borommakot was coming
to an end, the Dutch reported that the continual tensions between differ-
ent court factions had evolved into an open struggle. On 20 April, news
of the old King’s serious illness spread around. Bang reported that the
presence of many princes in and around the capital was regarded with
widespread dismay among the population. Only six months earlier, the
King had finally decided to appoint Chaofa Uthumphon (Kromkhun
Phonphinit)—his youngest son born of a queen of the first rank—Uparat
in place of the deceased Thammathibet.91 According to the Thai chroni-
cles, Prince Thepphiphit and some prominent khunnang recommended
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 203

the King choose Uthumphon. The Prince himself claimed that the office
should be rightfully given to his elder full brother Chaofa Ekathat
(Kromkhun Anurakmontri). Borommakot considered Ekathat, who
eventually became king, to be ‘dull and stupid. Intelligence and persever-
ance cannot be found in Him’, and therefore he would bring ‘misfortune,
disaster and ruin’ on the kingdom if he were to rule Siam.92 According to
the Dutch, many princes opposed the appointment of Uthumphon but
dared not speak against it openly. The three ‘illegitimate sons’ of the
King—meaning not born of a queen—, Princes Chitsunthon,
Sunthonthep, and Sepphakdi, had covertly gained support from many
officials and secured their ground in the north of Ayutthaya, intending ‘to
create their own rule there’, after their father’s demise. On 24 April, as the
King’s death drew near, all princes and prominent officials were confined
behind the closed gates of the royal palace, as was customary. Even their
food was delivered to the palace from their own courts.93
Finally, King Borommakot died on 29 April and the court was thrown
into turmoil. On 1 May, the Dutch heard that the three Krommun were
imprisoned and that the ‘Crown Prince’ had become King Uthumphon.
To honour his accession to the throne, the new King granted an amnesty
to 2,000 male and female prisoners. The Dutch were not delighted with
this and had the guard outside their lodge strengthened.94
The precarious situation after King Uthumphon’s enthronement soon
took a new turn when Chaofa Ekathat came forward to claim the throne.
Bang reports that the Prince had spent a few years in the monkhood,
actually quarantined because of his infectious ‘Lazarus’ disease (leprosy).95
After his father’s death, Ekathat moved into the royal palace. Obviously
enough, his action implied the staking of his claim to the throne. Bang
wrote that the Leper Prince began to take over many matters, but princi-
pally the handling of the three arrested Princes. After severe torture, they,
whom the Dutch described as being Borommakot’s favourites and more
qualified than Ekathat, were executed. Their supporters who were lucky
enough to escape death had to buy themselves out of prison at great
expense. Consequently, King Uthumphon abdicated, on 1 June accord-
ing to a French source, and went to reside as a monk in Wat Pradu, on
condition that once he left the monkhood, the throne should be returned
to him.96 He allegedly devoted himself to the practice of levitation which
some ‘foolish’ monks had recommended to him.97 On 14 December,
Kromphra Thephamat, the mother of Ekathat and Uthumphon, died.
Her death once more inflicted grief on the people, who were afraid that
the good relationship between the present King and his brother would
soon come to an end without the Queen who, until then, had managed
to preserve the good harmony between her sons.98 However, events did
not turn out as feared.
204 CHAPTER SEVEN

The question was why had Uthumphon given in to Ekathat? Dutch

records give the impression that Uthumphon enjoyed his father’s favour,
popularity among commoners, and the approval of Borommakot’s offi-
cials.99 The Thai chronicles also mention his support from the sangha:
Uthumphon obtained help from five respected monks in his efforts to
persuade his three adversaries to submit themselves to him, which allowed
him, in collaboration with Chaofa Ekathat, to take them by surprise.100
Bang does not explain how King Uthumphon ensured his victory over his
half-brothers, who also had supporters among the khunnang. According
to the Dutch, King Uthumphon seemed not only to be deterred by the
principle of seniority—substantiated by the Thai chronicles—but also
disheartened by the severity of his elder brother, in particular in dealing
with the three half-brothers.101 These views focus on Uthumphon’s per-
sonal character. Another factor which the Dutch failed to take into
account was that the support of the officials, a very important power base,
was unreliable. The Dutch themselves noted that, at the beginning, the
three princes and Uthumphon had been supported by some khunnang.
Yet, the former were defeated, and the latter retreated, probably because
they could not rely on their supporters.102
The enthronement of King Ekathat was followed by the elimination of
many officials who had served King Borommakot for a long time. The
Dutch soon observed that the four or five pages, who had served Ekathat
when he was still confined in the monastery, were ‘elevated from the low-
est background to the highest ranks’ and eventually took charge of the
kingdom.103 Thai sources identify two of them as Nai Pin and Nai Chim,
the older brothers of Ekathat’s consorts, Chao Chom Pheng and Chao
Chom Maen. These men were appointed to command the corps of royal
pages (mahatlek) which controlled a large number of men. They dared to
refuse to give the senior officials of the State the respect due to them and
also interfered in the administration of the kingdom.104 These brothers
and sisters are excellent examples of how social mobility at the
Ayutthayan court worked. While women’s status could be elevated via
marriage or concubinage with court members, joining the mahatlek corps
was a way for men to be trained in the administration of the kingdom,
especially the royal court, and to rise in its hierarchy.105 In this case, the
brothers and sisters as a group could manipulate both the public and the
private life of King Ekathat.
Dutch opinion of King Ekathat was very negative. Bang wrote that the
King himself knew nothing other than what his confidants told him, and
that he did not display himself to anyone as he was ashamed of his phys-
ical condition.106 The latter may not have disturbed the population very
much because the Siamese King usually showed himself only sparingly to
the public. After all, good health may not have been the ‘most’ important
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 205

sign of political potency of the eighteenth-century Kings of Ayutthaya.

The Dutch had reported Borommakot had suffered from goitre since the
1730s. Nicolaas Beerendrecht, who took charge of the affairs of the VOC
office after Bang’s death in 1760, added that King Ekathat loved enter-
tainment and ignored all the important aspects of ‘state affairs, trade as
well as justice’.107 The VOC ambassador to the Siamese court in 1762,
Marten Huysvoorn, summed up, again negatively, what characterized the
relationship between the King and his confidants: ‘[The] King, with his
easy attitude, looked through their [his confidants’] eyes and was always
contented when he could have a variety of entertainment.’108
A short interruption in King Ekathat’s rule occurred with the Burmese
invasion in 1760. Not only the local people but also foreign traders such
as the Dutch suffered severe damage from this attack. It was therefore
understandable that the VOC men bitterly blamed the King and his min-
isters for failing to provide effective protection during this crisis. Indeed,
the peril was so great that King Ekathat decided to let his younger broth-
er take upon himself the responsibility to defend the kingdom. According
to Dutch sources, when Uthumphon returned to government, he released
the former officials and his supporters and had his brother’s favourites
punished or imprisoned. Moreover, the Dutch believed that the come-
back of the ‘beloved’ King gave hope to the ‘suppressed’ people.
Uthumphon was spared from having to accomplish the most difficult
part of his task when the Burmese King and general, Alaungpaya, was
fatally injured or fell ill and consequently withdrew his troops from
Ayutthaya.109 However, once Ekathat had been freed of fear by the with-
drawal of the Burmese, he reclaimed royal power. For a second time, the
younger brother retreated to the monastic life and left the throne to his
elder brother. The circle was complete when King Ekathat reshuffled the
government by releasing his favourites and suppressing those in
Uthumphon’s service.110
All these conditions had an effect not only on the politics of the court,
but also affected the life of commoners and the business of the Dutch.
The Dutch bitterly complained that Ekathat’s officials respected no law
and cared only about their own profit. To make the situation worse, the
King’s sisters, who had been benefiting by adroitly shifting their support
back and forth between Ekathat and Uthumphon, also joined in the orgy
of exploitation. The Dutch accused the princesses of being worse than the
King’s ministers in their attempts to increase their influence on the King
and even exceed his power in some cases. Both the ministers and the
princesses played the role of ‘extortionists’ in the trade of the kingdom. A
similar view was expressed by the priests of the Missions Étrangères.
Unsurprisingly, the local and foreign residents of Ayutthaya were so con-
fused by the factiousness at court that they did not know what to do.
206 CHAPTER SEVEN

They knew only that they had to pay a great deal to settle important mat-
ters with the administration.111
In 1760, the VOC in Siam suffered not only at the hands of the
Burmese forces which burnt down houses and killed or abducted people
around its settlement. Its lodge was also plundered by the Thai who took
advantage of the chaos. During the escape from their lodge into the city
proper, the Dutch suite was ambushed by the enemies. As a result, some
European employees were killed. Besides goods and money, three Euro-
peans, Bang’s daughter and grandchildren, and thirteen slaves were taken
by the Burmese. Bang and his wife later died of the injuries they suffered
during the escape.112
In the aftermath of the Burmese invasion, Abraham Werndlij (1761-5)
was sent to supervise the Ayutthaya office in September 1761. He was
unquestionably challenged by the corruption among the Company
employees, but he also faced three major tasks in dealing with the Siamese
court—all were the consequences of the invasion. First of all, he had to
submit the Company’s requests for reductions in the prices of sappan-
wood, tin, and elephant tusks, and for a better valuation of the ducats the
VOC imported to the court. In this way, the Company hoped to com-
pensate the loss sustained during the attack. His next undertaking was
that he had to demand the court restore the VOC’s tin which partly had
fallen into the possession of a courtier named Luang Krai and partly had
been stolen by Thai looters. Lastly, the Dutch needed the court’s help to
restore the Company’s ducats, some of which had been stolen presumably
by some local coolies and some of which had been entrusted to a Siamese
woman called Nang Paan. The Phrakhlang reassured the Dutch that the
Siamese authorities would take both Luang Krai and Nang Paan to court
and force them to return the tin and the money. He recommended the
Dutch send someone to be present during the process in order to trans-
late and represent the Company should there be any dispute; the task was
assigned to Michiel Bang, the son of the late Resident. However, the
Minister also made clear that there would be no chance to recover the
stolen money and tin as long as the Dutch could not identify those coolies
and looters. Unfortunately, the court could also not deliver the sappan-
wood owed to the VOC because many woodcutters had been killed
during the Burmese attack.113
The legal proceedings against Luang Krai delivered almost nothing.
The courtier was mentioned by the Dutch as the Phrakhlang of the ‘for-
mer Crown Prince’—it is not clear which one, Thammathibet or
Uthumphon. He only seldom put in an appearance at the Court of
Justice, excusing himself by saying he was constantly required for royal
service. Luang Krai insisted that he had returned all of the tin to the
Dutch. However, Werndlij doubted his innocence, because not only had
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 207

Assistant Beerendrecht sworn that Luang Krai had returned only part of
the tin, but the courtier himself also did not want to swear an oath to it.
The new Resident seemed to have learnt fast about how to find out the
truth the Thai way. Meanwhile, Nang Paan gave herself into the protec-
tion of a ‘princess’. It seemed impossible even for the Phrakhlang to take
her from there to the Court of Justice.114 So powerful was her protector—
unnamed but surely one of the influential sisters of the King—that Nang
Paan was not required to appear before the judges.
There is evidence that some VOC employees had taken advantage of
the chaos amid the Burmese invasion. In its immediate aftermath,
Beerendrecht was reported to be living an extravagant life-style, wearing
new clothes, possessing good furniture, and throwing parties. He was
charged with being responsible for the missing gum resin and sappan-
wood during and after the chaos of the attack. Werndlij also interrogated
one of the assistant’s accomplices, the sailor Johannes de Ruiter who was
living beyond his means as well. De Ruiter had changed ducats, which he
allegedly had obtained from Beerendrecht, in the city, when changing
money with any agency other than the court was forbidden. Werndlij also
had reason to suspect that Michiel Bang was involved in corruption.
When the Resident first arrived in Ayutthaya, the younger Bang—who
was half-Mon—had already bought himself out of ‘Siamese bondage’ and
had had a nice house built.115
In defence of his decision to ‘arrest’ Beerendrecht, Werndlij explained
to Batavia that, in Siam, it was easy for anyone to flee, or to place himself
or herself under the protection of a monk or a prominent court member.
Nang Paan was the obvious indigenous case. But this option was also
available to foreigners. Jan Davidsz., the former warehouse keeper, had
refused to continue serving the Company and sought protection from a
Siamese minister. He had lived in Siam since his childhood and was
regarded by the locals as one of them.116
In 1761, the situation worsened not only for the Dutch but for all
foreign trading communities in Siam. The ‘good’ Phrakhlang decided to
resign his post and became a monk, ‘like the former King Uthumphon’,
to avoid the troubles and damage that some princes and princesses
wanted to afflict on him. He was the only khunnang whom the Dutch
seemed to respect. In their eyes, this nobleman had been the only
official who had tried to resist the ‘extortionists’. He was ‘generous’ and
(thus) different from other ‘greedy’ Siamese.117 As a result of his departure,
all business came to a halt, although the Dutch tried to contact the
Deputy-Phrakhlang many times. Contrary to the VOC request for the
reduction of commodity prices, the Royal Treasury decided to increase
them, and not to barter the goods, both decisions as a means to compen-
sate the loss caused by the Burmese attack.118 In short, the Burmese
208 CHAPTER SEVEN

invasion forced both the court and the Company to change their trading
strategies.

The VOC, Kandy, and Siam: The Prince Thepphiphit Episode, 1760-1762

Krommun Thepphiphit deserves to be placed among the most exciting

individuals in eighteenth-century Thai history, for playing an important
role in both internal and international politics. He is not only a rare
example of a survivor in Ayutthaya politics; more importantly, in the con-
text of this study, the Prince was a pawn in Dutch political experimenta-
tion in Asia.
Prince Thepphiphit had survived the political struggles in Siam,
including the elimination of Chaofa Thammathibet in 1756, the succes-
sion conflict and the following retreat of King Uthumphon in 1758—
with both of whom he took sides. According to the Thai chronicles, after
King Ekathat had ascended the throne, Thepphiphit decided to seek
refuge in the monkhood. Apparently he had not abandoned the temporal
world completely as he soon became involved in a plot hatched by some
prominent khunnang to replace King Ekathat with Prince Uthumphon
again. But Uthumphon himself disclosed their plot to the King. He was
either genuinely loyal to his brother, or, again, did not believe in the sin-
cere support of the plotters. Notably, at his plea, the lives of the conspir-
ators were spared.119
Prince Thepphiphit appears for the first time in the VOC records when
he was reported to have escaped from prison in 1759, supposedly after the
above-mentioned coup attempt. The Dutch were informed that ‘Chao
Krom Theppipit’ was ‘[King Ekathat’s] illegitimate brother’, and a
‘shrewd and valiant prince, who had been a teacher of the young
Uthumphon’. After his escape, his courtiers and their families were arrest-
ed and tortured to confess his whereabouts. Some other officials includ-
ing the supporters of the former King Uthumphon, such as the ‘good’
Phrakhlang, were also interrogated or imprisoned, accused of having con-
cealed the fact that the Prince would attempt to escape. The whole con-
fusion, especially the temporary absence of the Phrakhlang from his work,
hindered the Dutch attempts to dispatch their return ships to Batavia.
The VOC records agree with Thai sources that Thepphiphit became a
monk ‘to avoid the fate of his three brothers’—his former rivals who were
executed upon Uthumphon’s enthronement. They mention, too, that the
Prince attempted to escape to Cambodia with a small entourage, but was
caught on the border. His life was spared thanks to his monk status.120 It
actually took more than a monk’s status to save his life; it was certainly
Uthumphon’s protection which helped him to survive. In 1759, King
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 209

Ekathat decided to include Prince Thepphiphit in the group of monks

which the Siamese court was sending to Ceylon, as it had become a fre-
quent practice since 1751. It was obvious to Bang that this was the way
to remove the rebel Prince from the politics of the kingdom—when
killing him was not an option.121
Meanwhile, in the Kingdom of Kandy, King Kirti Sri continued his
struggles against his grandees. The religious and diplomatic exchange
with Ayutthaya and the revival of the Ceylonese sangha may have
enhanced his dignity in relation to the outside world, but it still failed to
impress his own officials. The King’s efforts to support the Buddhist cler-
gy and to use this move as a counterbalance to the faction of the nobility
which was hostile towards him did not work to his advantage, because the
liaison between the religious elite and these noblemen strengthened. It
should be borne in mind that what appeared to be resistance to this alien
King by the Sinhalese-Kandyan elite was very much motivated by the
power struggle between the King and a few prominent courtiers. In any
case, the conflict led to the point at which Kirti Sri’s opponents were
ready to replace him with another foreign, Buddhist prince, especially
since the jealousy among themselves prevented the selection of one of
their own to assume the throne. By July 1760, they had convinced
Thepphiphit to take part in their assassination attempt on King Kirti Sri,
a plot which failed miserably. The King now forced the Dutch to deport
the Thai Prince and his monks back to Siam.122 In 1761, Thepphiphit
arrived in Mergui and was confined there by order of King Ekathat, who
apparently wanted to keep the Prince away from his connections in the
capital.
Sensing some advantage, before the Dutch transported Thepphiphit
back to Siam, they had tried to make a secret deal with him. It is not
known whether the Company was directly involved in the attempted
coup of 1760 in Kandy; however, its policy makers clearly wanted to
replace Kirti Sri with a Thai Prince, who was to be the VOC puppet on
the Kandyan throne. By that time, the possibility of open warfare with
Kandy was imminent. Certainly, the long-term interactions, including
their efforts to send Thai monks to Kandy since 1751 had broadened
their understanding of the cultural similarity between Ayutthaya and
Kandy. At that time, the Dutch believed that, while the Sinhalese would
not accept the Christian Dutch as an alternative to the Hindu-Nayakkar
rulers and ‘would rather sacrifice their lives in order to preserve
Buddhism’, they would be able to accept the Buddhist Prince
Thepphiphit—whom they believed to be popular among the Sinhalese—
or failing that, his son.123
In September 1762, on the advice of the Governor of Ceylon, Lubbert
Jan van Eck (1762-5), a Dutch ambassador was sent to Ayutthaya to con-
210 CHAPTER SEVEN

duct secret negotiations with the Siamese court: to obtain the person of
Prince Thepphiphit or his son(s).124 Ambassador Marten Huysvoorn, who
was informed of local affairs by Werndlij, described Siam as being in a
‘state of confusion’. The court was hesitant to receive him because it sus-
pected the intentions of the Dutch. While the Dutch were willing to
allow the Siamese to inspect their three ships, contrary to their usual prac-
tice, they refused to reveal the purpose of their mission to the khunnang.
They wanted to reserve this for discussions with the King himself.125
Meanwhile, rumours spread that Thepphiphit was coming to
Ayutthaya from Mergui (or Tenasserim) and that the Dutch wanted to
help him claim the Siamese throne. The Dutch believed that the ruling
ministers were afraid that the Prince would take revenge on them. They
also thought that Thepphiphit’s life had been spared by Prince
Uthumphon, who longed to see him again. However, they were not cer-
tain about what the Princesses really thought of Thepphiphit because, at
one time, they seemed to protect him and, at another time, they did
not.126
Werndlij tried to obtain a state reception from the court so that
Huysvoorn would have a chance to appear before the King. The
Phrakhlang rejected Dutch requests to meet King Ekathat on the grounds
that their Ambassador was merely a representative of the Governor-
General and not of a monarch. Apparently, the Dutch were so enthusias-
tic about their Kandy plot that they forgot what they had learnt about
Siamese diplomatic protocol in over a century. Having failed to obtain an
audience with the King, Huysvoorn was ready to accept the second best
option of meeting the Phrakhlang and asked to be allowed to approach
the Dutch lodge in Ayutthaya because his crew urgently needed to refresh
themselves. Finally, on 26 October, thirty-three days after its arrival, the
embassy was allowed to sail up to Ayutthaya. At this time an unequivocal
message was passed on as the Phrakhlang sent only some low-ranking offi-
cials to inquire about the Ambassador’s business. At this point, Huys-
voorn and his men realized that their mission would achieve nothing, and
they decided to depart from Ayutthaya on 10 November.127
Huysvoorn’s assessment of his failure deserves special attention, as it
reflects Dutch understanding of Siamese politics at that time. First of all,
he pointed out that the Company had made a mistake in not realizing the
hatred King Ekathat bore towards Prince Thepphiphit. Now the Dutch
even risked their position by being seen as co-operating with or showing
respect to the Prince.128 On the next point, the Ambassador defended his
decision to leave Siam without having achieved anything by adducing the
argument that none of the solutions which the members of his embassy
could think of was plausible. Keeping the affair secret was decisive to this
mission but keeping a secret was as good as impossible in Siam. There-
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 211

fore, even if the incumbent Phrakhlang, who usually gave no audience to

foreigners, should have a meeting with the Dutch Ambassador, it would
have been attended by other officials. It was a known fact of the time that
the Siamese court was ever-anxious about any possibility of someone plot-
ting against the King. Consequently, not even a high-ranking official felt
free to speak to another; instead they always had to meet in the presence
of a third person. The Dutch were afraid that their plan would be widely
revealed and reach the ears of the English Captain ‘Poni’, or William
Powney, who might take the news to his people in Coromandel, and that
in turn might jeopardize the VOC’s interests in Ceylon.129 Of course, the
Dutch had thought about contriving a story to cover their real purpose.
Their option was to tell the Phrakhlang that they needed the help of
Thepphiphit’s sons in arbitrating between the Kandyan King and the
VOC, without showing the letter from the Governor-General which
asked precisely for the renegade Prince. However, the Dutch were certain
that the Siamese would not be convinced by this ploy without first
having seen a formal letter from Batavia. Quite frankly, the Dutch did not
believe that the incumbent Phrakhlang had the competence and enjoyed
the esteem to push their request through at court because he came from
the lowest rank and held this office only provisionally. Nor was it recom-
mended to motivate the Siamese officials by money and gifts because they
all were unreliable. Therefore, when Okphra Choduek offered his help to
the VOC to contact the court, they believed that he only wanted to earn
some presents and discover the secret business of the Dutch.130 Lastly, it
seemed impossible that the Dutch could deal secretly with any local per-
son who could help ‘obtain’ Prince Thepphiphit and/or his sons without
the court’s permission. The followers of the Prince themselves were not
available because they had been mercilessly persecuted. In addition, even
if the Dutch had succeeded in picking the Prince up at Mergui, the court
would punish the VOC men left in Ayutthaya for their actions.131
In 1764, Van Eck sent Willem van Damast Limberger on a secret mis-
sion to look for Prince Thepphiphit in Siam again. Now, assistance was
offered by a former Roman Catholic priest, Manuel de St. Joachim. The
Portuguese ex-priest claimed that he had a good knowledge of Siam and
its court in Ayutthaya and that he had been forced out of the kingdom by
the French priests as punishment for his conversion to Protestantism. His
knowledge of Siam must have been impressive enough to convince Van
Eck to recruit him, but his offer to procure Thepphiphit led to complete
disappointment. Considering his past, it was natural that De St. Joachim
should accuse the French bishop in Ayutthaya of fuelling the Siamese
court’s suspicion of the Huysvoorn mission. But the question is whether
the court of Ayutthaya, which for decades had been traditionally scepti-
cal of the French, would have asked for their advice. While De St.
212 CHAPTER SEVEN

Joachim claimed that Thepphiphit had agreed to go with the Dutch, Van
Damast Limberger finally learnt the truth, namely that the Prince was
heavily guarded in Tenasserim without any chance to communicate with
outsiders. In the end, Van Damast Limberger had an opportunity to meet
the Governor of Tenasserim, who revealed that De St. Joachim was an
outright scoundrel and advised the Dutch to ‘follow the procedure’—to
make a written request for Prince Thepphiphit and to submit it to the
Ayutthayan court.132 However, the Burmese advance at the end of that
year forced the Dutch to flee from Mergui, and the following full-scale
Burmese invasion of Siam at last brought the whole enterprise to an end.

The Last Decisions of the Dutch

Since the end of the 1750s, the VOC employees in Ayutthaya had repeat-
edly recommended that the Company should withdraw from Siam rather
than have an empty ship returning annually to Batavia. Yet, the decision
of the High Government to close down the office in Ayutthaya dated
25 October 1762 had not been implemented because of the above-men-
tioned ambitious design regarding Ceylon.133 After all, the Company was
still not ready to give up its post in Ayutthaya. Batavia even recommend-
ed selling the lodge and renting other premises, probably in the hope of
saving repair costs or making a profit out of its sale. Werndlij, who advo-
cated the idea of withdrawal, disagreed with this proposal. His first objec-
tion was that it would be difficult to sell such a big building, since none
of the locals could afford to pay more than one-tenth of its value and its
European-style architecture was different from indigenous architecture.
Another problem was that the Siamese court would interpret the selling
of the lodge, which Batavia recommended as a means to rescue the
Ayutthaya office, as a sign of the Company’s disengagement from Siam
and would make business and life difficult for the Dutch there as a
punishment. Lastly, the VOC would not find a better location and a well-
built edifice anywhere else. Indigenous houses were constructed of bam-
boo and could not protect the goods in store from theft. Werndlij added
that should the VOC eventually depart, the King would seize its lodge as
his possession like he had taken the English building, and then lease it to
foreigners. The English traders who had returned were now obliged to
stay in their former lodge and had to pay a handsome rent to the King.
The Dutch would face the same situation should they return.134
In 1763, without hope of obtaining a full cargo of sappanwood for
their ship, the Dutch decided to send it back to Batavia virtually empty.
At this point, the court made a conciliatory gesture. It asked the Dutch
to delay the departure of their ship by promising to pay the King’s debt
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 213

in cash for that part of sappanwood and tin the court was unable to sup-
ply. In his letter to the Governor-General, the Phrakhlang excused himself
for the delay in loading the VOC ship saying that the ‘yellow fever’ had
killed many people including labourers under his command.135 The VOC
men in Ayutthaya attributed the decline in the Company’s trade not only
to the lack of labour, but also to the inefficiency of the Siamese adminis-
tration. The incompetence of the incumbent Phrakhlang was known even
to King Ekathat and convinced him to ask the former Phrakhlang to
return to office. However, this grandee refused to take up his old position
unless the King were to guarantee him freedom from the capricious inter-
ventions by the ‘greedy’ and ‘power-hungry’ princesses and ministers.
Although the King wanted to give him such an assurance, he was prevent-
ed from doing so by his sisters and ministers.136
It is not clear how but, on 15 September 1763, the ‘good’ Phrakhlang
did give up monkhood and returned to his office, to the delight of the
Dutch and the people in general. The Dutch and all the other foreigners
queued up to congratulate him. The Minister asked Werndlij to come
later to brief him on the development of the Company’s affairs during his
absence. The problems of the VOC remained very much the same as they
had been before his resignation. The Minister insisted that he could not
help reduce the price of the commodities since it was impossible to alter
traditional practice and the Dutch had already been paying less than other
foreigners. At last, Werndlij conceded because he saw no chance that the
Siamese would ‘alter their custom’, especially when it could disadvantage
them.137 Despite the optimism his return had generated, the ‘good’
Phrakhlang eventually did not contribute much to the improvement of
the VOC’s trade in the kingdom, which declined sharply after the
Burmese attack.
The next year, 1764, was another normal year for the Dutch in Siam.
As negotiations on the prices of important commodities dragged on end-
lessly, gift-giving was still required and yet yielded no fruits. The
Phrakhlang preferred to discuss business with the Dutch in a public gath-
ering—to avoid any suspicion. The King and his court members depart-
ed for the annual journey to Phra Phutthabat, which, as usual, left the
VOC’s business unfinished. Despite all the frustration and delays,
Werndlij was appointed Okluang Surasen, which signified that the Dutch
were still respected at the Siamese court.138
However, in 1765, Werndlij reported that the whole situation was
changing. In January, Ayutthaya received reports that the Burmese had
ransacked Tavoy, Mergui, and Tenasserim and had massacred members of
the population who failed to escape. This news threw the court and the
commoners in the capital into a state of consternation. The authorities
prepared for the defence of the capital, among other measures, by barri-
214 CHAPTER SEVEN

cading the toll houses to prevent the passing of any ship bigger than a
prahu.139
From February 1765, the areas west of Ayutthaya—between Tavoy and
the Chao Phraya River—to Ligor and Kedah in the south fell to the
Burmese forces one after another. Werndlij was frustrated that the
Siamese did not do anything to defend these economically significant
areas, where sappanwood, tin, lead, and elephant tusks were procured.140
He also mentioned that the court was paralysed by the discord between
the ‘old and new ministers’ as well as the differences between the
‘Princesses’, and consequently did not pay enough attention to the dan-
ger it was in. Meanwhile, the Burmese ordered Siamese subjects in the
places they had conquered to co-operate and obtain mercy, or, if they
resisted, they would face slavery or ‘be cooked in a pan’. A considerable
number of people, especially those with families, surrendered to the
Burmese to spare themselves and their kin from brutal maltreatment.
Having strengthened its position in those conquered places, Burma now
set its sights on the capital city.
In May, the Ayutthayan court still did not know how to stop the
advancing enemy troops. The King grew so dismayed that he announced
he would richly reward anyone who could come up with a solution how
to defend the city against the Burmese. Everyone tried his best. Many
came up with ‘ridiculous’ propositions. Many ideas were carried out.
Unfortunately, Werndlij considered it unnecessary to relate the details of
these proposed schemes to Batavia. He only concluded that ‘this great and
notable kingdom, and a nation that otherwise was so sensible now seemed
like a complete theatre of follies’.141
Hindered by the heavy rainfall, the Burmese had to halt their advance.
In June, their forces started splitting up and resting. They sent people to
sow the fields and build storehouses for provisions. Werndlij remarked
that the Burmese did all this calmly as if they were in their own country,
without being interrupted by the Siamese. Meanwhile, the Siamese court
was recruiting soldiers and managed to gather around 15,000-16,000
men within a short time and station them in and around Ayutthaya.
Unfortunately, because these men received no maintenance, they soon
became ‘the second enemy’: most of them turned to thieving and some of
them deserted. By the end of the month, it was reported that the Burmese
planned to attack Bangkok. Werndlij gives substantial information about
the defence preparations down the Chao Phraya River, possibly because it
was the route both essential and accessible to the Dutch and their lodge.
The defence of Bangkok was very important because the town supplied
everything Ayutthaya needed to survive: without it the capital could eas-
ily be starved. The royal treasurer, Phraya Ratchapakdi, was dispatched
with 4,000 men to guard Bangkok. Phraya Yommarat led 2,000 men to
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 215

protect Talad Khwan. Meanwhile, 1,000 men with three galleons from
Ligor were assigned to protect Mae Klong. Cannons were mounted on
the fortress on the western side of the river, Thonburi. A thick and heavy
chain was stretched across the river. An armed ship 110 feet long was sta-
tioned in the middle of the river. The Burmese, however, prepared boats
and mounted cannon on the bow and the stern of each boat. In the mean-
time, another Burmese army camped north of Ayutthaya. The enemy
troops were waiting for the waters to recede to attack the city from the
north and the south.142
In August, the Burmese managed to conquer Mae Klong. The majori-
ty of the Ligor troops were killed. Their galleons were seized by the enemy
and used to attack Bangkok. On 29 August, the Burmese succeeded in
conquering Bangkok ‘without any resistance’, and blew up the fortress in
Thonburi. They killed everyone and burnt down everything up to fifteen
miles away from the VOC lodge. By permission of the Siamese court,
Werndlij had the Dutch lodge fortified with heavy planks and guns.
Europeans and local Christians kept watch day and night. He thought
that the enemy was coming but it did not. However, on 7 September, the
supervisor of the Amsterdam reported that the Burmese had destroyed
both the village and the warehouse. Less than half of the 378,779 pounds
of sappanwood in VOC possession was saved. The Company also lost the
gunpowder which Werndlij had sent there in April. The Burmese retired
to their headquarters, located three miles west of Bangkok.143
Contrary to Wood and Hutchinson’s claims that the Siamese court
arrogantly refused the help offered by the English Captain Powney,144 the
Dutch reported that it did indeed look to all foreigners for help to fight
the Burmese ‘whom they knew they [alone] could not fight’. Powney had
arrived with a ship and two brigantines from Bombay, carrying a letter
from its Governor and exotic gifts for the court consisting of two lions
and one Persian horse. The letter complained about the bad treatment
Powney had received from the Siamese officials in 1762, when he had
come to present the request of the Governor of Bombay for the right to
free trade and exemption from taxes. Now the Siamese court promised
the Englishman that it would grant his request, if he were to sail up to the
capital with his ships. Powney went down to sail his vessels into the Chao
Phraya River. However, according to the Dutch, after his request to be
exempted from taxation had been granted, Powney remained in Bangkok
with his fleet ‘out of fear of the Burmese’. From there, he tried to sell 300
packs of linen but, up to the time the Dutch departed, he had not suc-
ceeded in finding any customer. Werndlij wrote that everyone from the
King to the humblest person prepared themselves and their money to flee
to Cambodia should the enemy attack the capital.145
In the course of 1765, the Dutch were forced to defend their lodge
216 CHAPTER SEVEN

against some small Burmese forces several times. Considering the threat
deadly, Werndlij prepared to evacuate his people from Ayutthaya. Since
he did not want to leave the fifty-two packs of linen to be taken by
Burmese soldiers or Siamese looters, and knew that such a voluminous
cargo could not pass the customs houses and reach a Dutch ship at the
river mouth without being noticed, he planned to deliver them to the
Royal Warehouse and ask for a receipt. If the city did not fall to the
enemy, the Company could still hope for a future payment from the
court. Should the Burmese approach Ayutthaya, the Dutch planned to
force through the customs houses and the barricades, taking with them
only the Company cash, and go to the warehouse Amsterdam, where they
could await the news of developments in Ayutthaya or find an opportu-
nity to leave for Batavia or Malacca.146
Under these circumstances, the Dutch Resident found himself faced
with all kinds of practical problems. The Siamese prevented anyone from
escaping by closing all the checkpoints. Since the people in the settlement
had fled away, there was no carpenter available to repair the boat destined
for the escape. Having no more than a scribe and two sailors to assist him,
Werndlij had to ask the Phrakhlang for permission to strengthen the
Dutch lodge in the way the French and Portuguese settlements were
doing, namely by recruiting the indigenous inhabitants of the settle-
ment—who were not in the King’s service—to guard the lodge. With the
approval of some other ‘old officials’, the Minister gave his permission but
still required the Dutch to deliver a written petition which he could
present to the King the following morning.
However, King Ekathat rejected this petition on account of the ‘new
ministers’, without whom he ‘could not and did not want’ to make any
decision, and who constantly worked together to turn down any propos-
als made by the Phrakhlang. Werndlij even received some ‘insulting’
advice from the court, namely that he should learn how to defend the
lodge from the French bishop. According to the court, the bishop had
managed to defend not only his church, but the whole camp without any
reinforcements during the first invasion. Werndlij felt like giving a sting-
ing reply but he knew that it was useless, for the interpreter would not
dare to translate his precise words because ‘the Siamese were used to sub-
missive flattering language’. Werndlij finally found his own solution by
hiring ten indigenous Christians for the defence of the lodge and training
them to use guns.147
Now the letters from the Governor-General arrived at the moment at
which the Siamese had nothing left but ‘their capital city, an empty royal
treasury, and a confused council’. The Phrakhlang let the Dutch know
that he had no time to accept the letters and gifts in the customary man-
ner, and that the city gates were barricaded. Werndlij for his part kept the
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 217

order from the High Government to close down the office secret.148 He
was afraid that if the Siamese court knew of it, it would be even stricter
with the Dutch and refuse to pay its debts. The Dutch still tried to pro-
cure some return cargo, asking for tin and sappanwood as payment for
the gifts from Batavia, and to have the King’s debt paid. The former was
to no avail as the provinces which supplied the wood had already fallen
into Burmese hands. To make the situation worse, the Governor of Ligor
no longer complied with the court’s orders.
At last, the Company boat was repaired and stood ready for the escape.
Rice, obtained at a high price, was secretly loaded onto the vessel for sus-
tenance during the journey. However, the movements of the Dutch were
noticed by the Siamese officials. On 28 October, the interpreter for the
Dutch was summoned to Okphra Choduek (the King’s brother-in-law)
and interrogated with menaces. He admitted that the Dutch were load-
ing all the Company and household stuff onto the boat. On the follow-
ing day, while Werndlij still wanted to request an audience with the
Phrakhlang, the interpreter came back from the city proper to warn the
Dutch that the court planned to take the Dutch children into custody
and seize the lodge. Fearing a repetition of the traumatizing siege of the
VOC lodge by the Siamese authorities in 1740, the Dutch decided that
they had to leave the city that very same night. They expected that the
Siamese would fear the enemy too much to follow them. Assistant
Johannes van den Berg, who was supposed to remain behind to take
charge of the Company affairs in Ayutthaya according to the original
order from Batavia, now begged to be allowed to leave with Werndlij
because, in this situation, he could not possibly defend the lodge and he
was afraid for the lives of his pregnant wife and children from the men-
ace of both the Siamese and Burmese. Werndlij and the ship’s authorities
agreed to take them on board, together with Michiel Bang and his two
sisters, the former interpreter Gaudentie Estevans, the warehouse keeper
Christian Botsberg and family, and the widow of the former employee
Michiel Corbonne and her children. The Resident decided to take the
Corbonne children because he was informed that, after the office closure
in 1740, the Dutch children had been made slaves and especially girls had
been treated miserably, except for those who had enough resources to buy
their own freedom. Supervision of the lodge was transferred to the inter-
preter who, as a local, was supposed to be able to cope with the situation
better.149
Werndlij and his entourage managed to reach the mouth of the Chao
Phraya River safely. From there, they sent a letter in Portuguese to explain
their action to the Phrakhlang. However, the court’s attention was divert-
ed not only by the approach of the enemy forces, but also by the escape
of a prince called Chaofa Chit (‘Tjauw va Tjit’) from his prison to
218 CHAPTER SEVEN

Uthumphon’s protection.150 Force of circumstance caused the Dutch to

decide to wait no longer for the court’s permission to depart, and there-
fore, in the middle of November 1765, they sailed off to Batavia.
Botsberg managed to use an English boat to help transport the remaining
sappanwood to the Dutch ship at the last minute. Werndlij must have
realized how fortunate he and his people were to escape successfully
because, at their departure, two junks from Semarang and Cirebon,
which had arrived with sugar and some small commodities, were detained
by the Siamese.151

Only in April 1768 did Batavia acquire interviews with two eyewitnesses
of the fall of Ayutthaya: the Armenian Anthony Goyaton—who claimed
to be the former head of the Europeans in Siam, and an Arab priest, Seyed
Ali.152 Through these accounts, we have a picture of the last days of
Ayutthaya, which, of course, also differs from other accounts.153
According to these two men, the Siamese capital fell to the Burmese who
received aid from the Burmese captives inside the city and ‘reduced it
entirely to ashes’ in March 1767. Having killed ‘most of the inhabitants’,
they led the survivors, including ex-King Uthumphon and the Phrakhlang
back to Burma. On the way, the former succumbed to illness, and the lat-
ter took poison. King Ekathat was allegedly murdered the same night by
the Siamese. The Company’s lodge was burnt down. The former acquain-
tance of the Dutch Prince Thepphiphit had previously fled from Tenas-
serim and re-started his political adventure but was finally defeated by
General Taksin, later King of the short-lived Thonburi Period (1767-
82).154 The two eyewitnesses also told Batavia that, after the Burmese
withdrawal, some Siamese quickly resettled around the former French
fort at Thonburi and started trading again.

Conclusion

Judged by Dutch participation in Siamese court ceremony, the VOC men

of the eighteenth century still mastered the language of ritual which had
been passed down from many generations of their predecessors. Though
from a less privileged position, they were still able to perceive the chang-
ing power relations at the court of Ayutthaya in its last decades. The
Dutch representation of King Borommakot is after all reminiscent of
their observation of King Prasatthong, especially their references to his
alternating use of arbitrary power and splendour to persuade the Dutch
to make concessions. But it also shows a profound difference between the
two rulers. King Borommakot had to allow a considerable number of his
children and officials to join in the pursuit of power and wealth—espe-
 REMAIN OR LEAVE? 219

cially through trade—, whereas King Prasatthong was more successful in

keeping these to himself. The new power situation disturbed Dutch inter-
ests as it increased competition in trade in Siam. What the Dutch repeat-
edly mentioned as ‘abuse’ or ‘extortion’ by the chao and the khunnang,
which suggests a state of moral decline, should be seen in terms of the
new division of power. Another important aspect of the sharing of power
and wealth can be found in the life-style of the prominent court mem-
bers. As Dutch sources reveal, Borommakot’s officials lived a cosmopoli-
tan, material life, to almost as great an extent as the King did.
By sharing resources with his power-seeking court members and by
exercising his ruthlessness against them, King Borommakot kept a firm
control over them throughout his long reign. His sons, Uthumphon and
Ekathat, were incapable of defending their power from being usurped by
their own siblings and servants, who did not act in concert but were
extremely divided among themselves. Ironically, in the end, the Dutch
understanding of the new power relations among the Siamese elite only
made them realize that they no longer had anyone to turn to for help.
Despite all the difficulties with which its men were constantly con-
fronted, the VOC did not give up its place in Siam easily. The Thai king-
dom may have lost the best of its commercial profitability for the
Company, but it had gained political, strategic importance as part of the
Dutch scheme in Ceylon. However, those experiments failed too. The
Dutch support in the successful religious and diplomatic contacts
between Ayutthaya and Kandy did not lead to a sustainable improvement
in both their relationships, either with the Kandyan King or with the
Siamese court. When the Dutch went so far as to try to make use of their
understanding of the politics of Kandy, in reviving the idea entertained by
some locals of replacing its King with a Thai prince, they failed because
they did not fully fathom the political climate in Siam, and hence did not
manage to obtain a Thai royal to occupy the Kandyan throne.
Although the VOC men did not experience the last days of Ayutthaya
directly, their records are still helpful in understanding the situation in the
kingdom before its downfall. In her analysis of the social and political
organization during the Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty, Busakorn Lailert
Kanchanachari has asserted that the pre-conditions of Ayutthaya’s defeat
at Burmese hands in 1767 were the three structural weaknesses of the
kingdom: the factiousness among the chao; the loss of the phrai thanks to
the ineffective registration system; and the ill-judged optimism of the
Thai political elite which allowed the Burmese to catch them off-guard.155
The Dutch experience during King Ekathat’s reign and during both
Burmese invasions, strictly speaking, supports the point about the weak
leadership and ineffective administration in general. The Dutch did not
explicitly mention optimism or disbelief among court members, but
220 CHAPTER SEVEN

rather emphasized the confusion and disagreements at court. The loss of

the phrai was a matter probably beyond their knowledge; still, the Dutch
believed that the court failed to control the men recruited to defend the
capital, which again points to incompetent leadership.
 CONCLUSION

This study of the interactions between the VOC employees and the mem-
bers of the court of Ayutthaya shows how over the years ‘fixed
Dutch/European categories’ of the Siamese court elite were created. The
Dutch perceptions of the Siamese court in the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries generally agreed with contemporary European views of the
‘absolute power’ of the Siamese king and the ‘splendour’ of his court,
which both in Dutch/European and in Thai terms served to manifest his
power. To a large extent, Dutch accounts, such as the work of Schouten,
were even the main source of European perceptions of Siam.
Although these few ‘fixed categories’ did not change dramatically over
time, it is possible to see how the Dutch adapted themselves to an envi-
ronment which, if it were to allow them their trade, needed to be under-
stood at various cultural and political levels. To show and understand the
Dutch awareness of this cultural-political situation, this study has
analysed the nearly two centuries of Dutch-Thai interaction under the
aegis of the VOC.
From the beginning, the Dutch were awed by the ‘absolute power’ and
‘splendour’ of the Siamese King, which they sometimes regarded as unjust
and wasteful. Despite such misgivings, they quickly recognized the
centripetal force of the Ayutthayan court, into which they them-
selves were drawn, as they were dependent on the King’s favour, as
were all other court members. To communicate with the King more
effectively, the Dutch mastered the Siamese ‘language of ritual’. They also
learnt to recognize the general and personal needs of each Siamese ruler
and his entourage and made use of that understanding. Through all this,
they also gained a working knowledge of the political reality of the
kingdom. This knowledge of things Thai—their ‘cultural capital’, so to
say—was essential if they were to realize their prime goal, namely the
establishment and operation of trading relations with the Ayutthaya
Kingdom.
Undoubtedly, many Europeans deemed accepting Siamese court
etiquette to be a gesture of submission to this oriental King. Even so,
the VOC men, known for their pragmatism, were more often than not
flexible enough to observe the many intricacies of local custom. They
often did follow local protocol because they genuinely understood the sig-
nificance of ceremony and deference. They only tried to resist when a cer-
emony or a contribution implied that they were bowing to a non-
Christian religion and jarred their religious conscience. Even so, the
222 CONCLUSION

Dutch and the Siamese often reached a compromise, especially because

this would please the Siamese King.
The Dutch were aware of the vicissitudes at court and tried to adjust
to them, above all by re-inventing their own functions to suit the specif-
ic needs of each Siamese King. Having established themselves in the
commercial and diplomatic order of Siam during the reigns of Kings
Ekathotsarot and Songtham, the Dutch further strengthened their posi-
tion by forging a political and military alliance with King Prasatthong.
After diplomacy and military alliance had lost their prominence or prac-
ticability, the Dutch retained King Narai’s favour by supporting the
expansion of his personal world to meet the wider one. More serious
problems occurred when the following Kings Phetracha and Süa con-
sidered neither Europeans trustworthy allies nor European culture a
prominent element in court prestige. Nevertheless, for the rest of the
time, the Dutch remained Siam’s most important European trade partner
and the Kings’ indispensable link to the outside world.
Not only the political and economic conditions but also the social
and cultural life of each reign was defined to a large extent by the person-
al strengths, or weaknesses, and personal interests of each ruler. The
history of the Ayutthayan court as seen through Dutch eyes shows a
constant power struggle between individuals and between interest groups.
In the reality of Siamese politics, the Dutch also saw that the ‘absolute
power’ of its King had its limits, as proven by the recurrent succession
conflicts and the increasing need for power-sharing experienced by the
Kings of the eighteenth century. What the Dutch observed even more
clearly in their daily experience was that the khunnang—who were both
partners and competitors of the Dutch—protected their interests by try-
ing to manipulate the King’s knowledge of the precise circumstances of
politics and trade. The Kings responded by tolerating this manipulation;
sometimes fighting back to reclaim control; sometimes feeling powerless
against it.
Dutch understanding of the power relations among the Siamese elite
did not always help them out. Especially in the seventeenth century, the
Dutch often felt that the Kings were kept blind by their officials to the
injustices done to them. However, studying Dutch sources, it is fairly
obvious that Kings may have chosen deliberately to turn a blind eye to
these injustices every now and again. Consequently, the claim by the
VOC employees that the ruler had no knowledge of the miseries his ser-
vants caused them seemed in a way a strategy which helped the Dutch to
survive in Siam rather than to reflect reality. Notably, the tendency to
stress the role of the King as the ‘last instance’ to whom the Dutch looked
for succour1 grew less from the last decade of the seventeenth century; the
disappearance of this ‘topos’ also reflected the fact that, gradually, the
 CONCLUSION 223

Dutch lost their position as the ‘most favourite nation’ of the Siamese
King.
The VOC records contain many negative descriptions of the Siamese,
disparaging them as ‘greedy’, ‘lazy’, ‘inefficient’, and ‘arrogant’. Dutch/
European categories often appear in binary opposition to what the Dutch
perceived to be the innate characteristics of the Siamese. Therefore, there
are such oppositions posed as free Dutchman versus servile Siamese
(which again reinforced the notion of absolute kingship) and rational
Christian versus credulous heathen. Moreover, less surprising in a
people absorbed principally by trade, the avarice of the court members
is an always dominant topic. Van Alderwereld’s instruction of 1731
reflects the past, the present, and the future of the typical Dutch
perception of Siamese morality as well as the standard code of conduct
for the Company men. Ascribing the hardships of the Dutch to the
‘greed’ of the Siamese, he could only advise his colleagues to find
and cling to a ‘middle course’ of being neither too compliant nor too
resistant.2 Certainly, it was easier said than done. That the Dutch often
described the behaviour and attitudes of the khunnang and the court
servants as ‘greedy’ reflected their view that these people selfishly put
their personal interests before their duties. On the other hand, the
accusation seems to have been a universal explanation which the
Company men applied to the Siamese Government and to individuals at
the court, whenever they tried to excuse their own failure in the commer-
cial negotiations with the Siamese to their superiors. In some cases, the
Dutch actually showed that they, though unwillingly, understood that the
discriminatory trade practices of the court were a means to solve its own
problems, such as to fill the royal treasury emptied as a result of war
efforts or of the politics of power consolidation of a new king. While con-
demning Siamese ‘greediness’ and ‘corruption’, the Company servants
constantly oiled their relationship with their host by means of giving
‘gifts’ or ‘bribes’. Such a contradiction between moral criticism and polit-
ical practice is reminiscent of the present-day ‘business culture’ conduct-
ed between some Western companies and governments in the developing
world.
The mindset of the European employees of the Dutch Company was
structured partly by a profit-oriented outlook—which largely determined
their tactics of either diplomacy or force, in dealing with their Asian
counterparts—and partly by a sense of the cultural differences between
them and the Asians they encountered. In practice, the need of the VOC
men-on-the-spot to reconcile these two aspects in order to survive in
Siam—where the host society basically had the power to dictate their
lives—often resulted in pragmatic decisions, especially to be ‘diplomatic’,
which sometimes contradicted what they considered right or acceptable
224 CONCLUSION

judged by the standards of Company policy, or as a matter of fact their

personal norms and values.
Without denying the significance of the awareness of cultural differ-
ences, this study shows that, for the VOC merchants, it was often rather
their work situation—living in Siam and negotiating with its court—than
their intellectual convictions which gave them grounds to criticize the
Siamese. Van Vliet had condemned the usurpation of King Prasatthong
who treated the Dutch harshly, but one of his successors, Keijts, wel-
comed the power seizure by King Phetracha, hoping to be in favour with
the new ruler. Other VOC observers reported the succession conflicts in
Siam, which did not affect them directly, in a rather matter-of-fact way,
considering these a common, almost cyclical development in the skein of
life in Siam, without necessarily attempting a comparison between
Siamese and European political cultures. Although the Dutch frequently
criticized the Siamese court, they did not try to impose their own values
upon their hosts.3 This, in a way, makes these VOC merchants more
objective than their intellectual contemporaries in Europe who tended to
draw moral conclusions from the travel accounts they read and who grew
intellectually disenchanted with Asia when they felt that they could learn
no more from the East.
During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, Europeans were
extending their influence in many parts of Asia. But in Siam, the Dutch
remained largely at the mercy of the court of Ayutthaya, and that situa-
tion forced them to develop a collective policy and a personal strategy to
deal with it. When Burma invaded Ayutthaya in 1765-7, the relationship
the Dutch had cultivated, with perseverance and adaptability, which had
lasted for about 160 years, came to an end as a result of local rather than
global developments.
 NOTES

Notes to Introduction
1
This is the central idea in Holden Furber, ‘Asia and the West as Partners before
“Empire” and after’, JAS 28/4 (1969), 711-21; see also id., Rival Empires of Trade in the
Orient, 1600-1800 (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1976).
2
Barbara Watson Andaya, To Live as Brothers: Southeast Sumatra in the Seventeenth and
Eighteenth Centuries (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1993), xiv (citation).
3
Jürgen Osterhammel, Die Entzauberung Asiens: Europa und die asiatischen Reiche im
18. Jahrhundert (Munich: Beck, 1998).
4
John Anderson, English Intercourse with Siam in the Seventeenth Century (London:
Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner & Co., 1890), 389-90; E. W. Hutchinson, Adventurers in
Siam in the Seventeenth Century (London: The Royal Asiatic Society, 1940), 192.
5
The view of the eighteenth century as a period of decline has often been applied not
only to Ayutthaya but to most parts of South-East Asia. See the comment by David K.
Wyatt, ‘The Eighteenth Century in Southeast Asia’, in Leonard Blussé and Femme
Gaastra (eds.), On the Eighteenth Century as a Category of Asian History: Van Leur in
Retrospect (Aldershot: Ashgate, 1998), 39-55, esp. 40.
6
Dirk van der Cruysse, Siam and the West 1500-1700, tr. Michael Smithies (Chiang
Mai: Silkworm Books, 2002), xvii-xviii. (First published in French 1991.)
7
George Vinal Smith, The Dutch in Seventeenth-Century Thailand (Illinois: Centre for
Southeast Asian Studies, 1977).
8
Han ten Brummelhuis, Merchant, Courtier and Diplomat: A History of the Contacts
between The Netherlands and Thailand (Lochem-Gent: De Tijdstroom, 1987).
9
Dhiravat na Pombejra, ‘A Political History of Siam under the Prasatthong Dynasty,
1629-1688’ (Diss., University of London, 1984); id., ‘Ayutthaya at the End of the
Seventeenth Century: Was There a Shift to Isolation?’, in Anthony Reid (ed.), Southeast
Asia in the Early Modern Era: Trade, Power, and Belief (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University
Press, 1993), 250-72; id., ‘Princes, Pretenders, and the Chinese Phrakhlang: An Analysis
of the Dutch Evidence Concerning Siamese Court Politics, 1699-1734’, in Blussé and
Gaastra (eds.), On the Eighteenth Century, 107-30; see also the short analysis of Ayutthaya’s
trade in the first half of the eighteenth century, especially the difficult 1730s, in Remco
Raben and Dhiravat na Pombejra, ‘Tipping Balances: King Borommakot and the Dutch
East India Company’, in id. (eds.), In the King’s Trail: An 18th Century Dutch Journey to
the Buddha’s Footprint; Theodorus Jacobus van den Heuvel’s Account of his Voyage to Phra
Phutthabat in 1737 (Bangkok: The Royal Netherlands Embassy, 1997), 63-79, esp. 64-6,
69-70. The difficulties in foreign trade did not necessarily affect the cultural prosperity of
King Borommakot’s reign (r. 1733-1758).
10
For example, W. A. R. Wood, A History of Siam (Bangkok: Chalermnit Bookshop,
1959), 194-215; Rong Syamananda, A History of Thailand (Bangkok: Chulalongkorn
University/Thai Wattana Panich, 1977), 72-82.
11
Smith has emphasized that, during the period between 1664 and the early 1680s, the
VOC and the Ayutthayan court enjoyed a fine relationship. Smith, The Dutch, 41.
Vilailekha Thavornthanasan has shown that King Narai’s decision to move his court far-
ther inland to Lopburi and to favour the French in the 1670s was personal rather than
political (that is, fear of a Dutch threat). Vilailekha Thavornthanasan, ‘The Role of
Lopburi during the Reign of King Narai, A.D. 1656-1688’, in Ronald D. Renard (ed.),
Anuson Walter Vella (Honolulu: University of Hawaii at Manoa, Center for Asian and
Pacific Studies, 1986), 134-55. Nidhi Aeusrivongse has convincingly explained that King
Narai used foreigners in his service to counterbalance the power of indigenous adminis-
trative officials. His explanation emphasizes internal politics—instead of the contacts with
the West—as a moving force in the history of the period. Nidhi Aeusrivongse, kan muang
226 NOTES

thai samai phra narai [Thai Politics during King Narai’s Reign] (1980; repr., Bangkok:
Matichon, [1996]).
12
Dhiravat na Pombejra, ‘The Dutch-Siamese Conflict of 1663-1664: A Reassessment’,
in Leonard Blussé (ed.), Around and About Formosa: Essays in Honor of Professor Ts’ao Yung-
ho (Taipei: Ts’ao Yung-ho Foundation for Culture and Education, 2003), 291-306, esp.
305-6.
13
Jeremy Kemp, Aspects of Siamese Kingship in the Seventeenth Century (Bangkok: Social
Science Association Press of Thailand, 1969), 8.
14
Dhiravat na Pombejra, Siamese Court Life in the Seventeenth Century as Depicted in
European Sources (Bangkok: Faculty of Arts Chulalongkorn University International Series
No. 1, 2001).
15
Eleanor Gibson, Principles of Perceptual Learning and Development (New York: Mere-
dith Corporation, 1969), 3-4, 13-17.
16
Jurrien van Goor, ‘Introduction’, in id. (ed.), Trading Companies in Asia 1600-1830
(Utrecht: HES, 1986), 9-17, esp. 10.
17
Anthony Reid, Southeast Asia in the Age of Commerce, 1450-1680, I: The Land below
the Winds (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1988) and II: Expansion and Crisis (New
Haven: Yale University Press, 1993). Reid has emphasized the significance of trade and
other ‘maritime intercourse’ in the historic integration processes of South-East Asia.
18
David K. Wyatt, ‘King Borommakot, his Court, and their World’, in Raben and
Dhiravat (eds.), In the King’s Trail, 53-62, esp. 55.
19
David Cannadine, ‘Introduction: Divine Rites of Kings’, in id. and Simon Price
(eds.), Rituals of Royalty: Power and Ceremonial in Traditional Societies (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1987), 1-19. Cannadine suggests a functional relationship
between ‘power and pomp’ in the way that ‘pomp’ often serves as an instrument of power
used for representing, demonstrating, and hence reifying power itself.
20
NA, Collectie Hudde, no. 5, Consideratiën van Van Beuningen, cited in Femme
Gaastra, The Dutch East India Company: Expansion and Decline (Zutphen: Walburg Pers,
2003), 57.
21
George Winius and Markus Vink, The Merchant-Warrior Pacified: The VOC (The
Dutch East India Company) and its Changing Political Economy in India (Delhi: Oxford
University Press, 1991).
22
Reinout Vos, Gentle Janus, Merchant Prince: The VOC and the Tightrope of Diplomacy
in the Malay World, 1740-1800 (Leiden: KITLV Press, 1993).
23
See also Jurrien van Goor, ‘A Hybrid State: The Dutch Economic and Political
Network in Asia’, in Claude Guillot, Denys Lombard and Roderich Ptak (eds.), From the
Mediterranean to the China Sea (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 1998), 193-214.
24
Ibid. 1-2.
25
Jonathan I. Israel, The Dutch Republic: Its Rise, Greatness, and Fall, 1477-1806
(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998), 318-22.
26
For the foundation and organization of the VOC, see Gaastra, The Dutch East India
Company, Chapter 1.
27
For the VOC’s intra-Asian trade, see ibid., Chapter 4, esp. 108-24.
28
The most recent literature increasingly emphasizes that adapting to local conditions
was an important factor in the Company’s success. See the analysis of the changing trends
in the VOC historiography in Jurrien van Goor, ‘The Dutch East India Company,
Merchant and King’, in id., Prelude to Colonialism: The Dutch in Asia (Hilversum:
Uitgeverij Verloren, 2004), 7-25.
29
Leonard Blussé, Tussen geveinsde vrunden en verklaarde vijanden (Amsterdam: KNAW,
1999), here cited from the English version, ‘Amongst Feigned Friends and Declared
Enemies’, http://www. oslo2000.uio.no, 2.
30
For the analysis of traditional Chinese shipping routes in the China Sea and the
VOC’s attempts to use them, see Leonard Blussé, ‘No Boats to China: the Dutch East
India Company and the Changing Pattern of the China Sea Trade, 1635-1690’, MAS
30/1 (1996), 51-76, esp. 20-1.
31
Gaastra, The Dutch East India Company, 57; Van Goor, ‘The Dutch East India
Company, Merchant and King’, 24.
 TO INTRODUCTION 227
32
A vast historiography has examined the relations between the VOC and the Asian
courts, earlier in terms of economic and political, and later increasingly concerning cul-
tural interactions, as well. See, for example, the recent articles in Dutch and English in
Elsbeth Locher-Scholten and Peter Rietbergen (eds.), Hof en handel: Aziatische vorsten en
de VOC 1620-1720 (Leiden: KITLV, 2004).
33
This is the main idea in Leonard Blussé, ‘Queen among Kings, Diplomatic Ritual at
Batavia’, in Kees Grijns and Peter J. M. Nas (eds.), Jakarta-Batavia (Leiden: KITLV,
2000), 25-42.
34
Blussé, ‘Amongst Feigned Friends’, 9. For the European classification of sovereignty
of Asian states, see also C. H. Alexandrowicz, An Introduction to the Law of Nations in the
East Indies (16th, 17th, and 18th Centuries) (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1967), 15-26.
35
There are several explanations for the demise of the VOC. To sum up, whereas the
earlier historiography has seen the eighteenth century as the period of decline for the
VOC, the more recent literature suggests instead an alternating picture of internal degra-
dation and recovery or continuity. For this topic, see, for example, Gaastra, The Dutch East
India Company, 164-70; Els M. Jacobs, Koopman in Azië: De handel van de Verenigde Oost-
Indische Compagnie tijdens de 18de eeuw (Zutphen: Walburg Pers, 2000), 218-21.
36
Peter Rietbergen, ‘Varieties of Asia? European Perspectives, c. 1600-c. 1800’, Itine-
rario, 3/4 (2001), 69-89, esp. 72-3.
37
Michael Adas, Machines as the Measure of Men: Science, Technology, and Ideologies of
Western Dominance (2nd ed., Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1992), 22; Furber, Rival
Empires, 6.
38
Furber asserted that the East India Companies and their servants were perhaps more
influential than European travellers and missionaries in laying foundations for the work
of the ‘Orientalists’. Furber, Rival Empires, 325.
39
Rietbergen suggests that to a certain extent the VOC tried to play a role as a ‘vector
of culture’ and offered the demanding literary and influential Dutch public a knowledge
of the outside world from its archives. Peter Rietbergen, Japan verwoord: Nihon door
Nederlandse ogen, 1600-1799 (Amsterdam: Hotei Publishing, 2003), 188-9. For the his-
tory of the VOC’s publishing activities, see John Landwehr, VOC: A Bibliography of
Publications Relating to the Dutch East India Company, 1602-1800, ed. Peter van der Krogt
(Utrecht: HES, 1991), XVII-XXX.
40
For instance, in the 1630s, several VOC trade directors were assigned the task of com-
posing a comprehensive account of the circumstances in the places at which they were sta-
tioned. Among the results were the famous descriptions of Japan by François Caron, and
of Siam by Joost Schouten. The English versions appeared in the double volume A True
Description of the Mighty Kingdoms of Japan and Siam by François Caron and Joost Schouten,
tr. Roger Manley, ed. C. R. Boxer (London: Argonaut Press, 1935).
41
Nicolaas Witsen, for example, while Burgomaster of Amsterdam and a member of the
VOC executive boards made a study of Central Asia. He kept up a correspondence with
contemporary European intellectuals, including Leibniz. See Peter Rietbergen, ‘Witsen’s
World: Nicolaas Witsen (1641-1717) between the Dutch East India Company and the
Republic of Letters’, Itinerario, 2 (1985), 121-34.
42
For instance, at least twenty-five major descriptions of South Asia, fifteen of main-
land South-East Asia, twenty of the South-East Asian Archipelagos, and sixty of East Asia
appeared during the seventeenth century. Edwin J. Van Kley, ‘Asian Religions in
Seventeenth-century Dutch Literature’, Itinerario, 3/4 (2001), 54-68, esp. 54. For a sur-
vey of early modern Dutch, and European, literature on Asia, see Donald F. Lach, Asia in
the Making of Europe, I: The Century of Discovery, Books 1-2, and II: A Century of Wonder,
Books 1-3 (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1965, 1970 and 1977); Donald F.
Lach and Edwin J. Van Kley, Asia in the Making of Europe, III: A Century of Advance,
Books 1-4 (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1993).
43
Sixteenth-century European literature on Siam agrees that Siam was one of the most
affluent and powerful polities in the East and that its ruler was absolute, wealthy, and tol-
erant of foreigners and their religions. Among the most notable works which were pub-
lished in that century are Tomé Pires’ Suma Oriental and Mendez Pinto’s Peregrinação (the
latter had been to Ayutthaya himself ). See Donald F. Lach, Southeast Asia in the Eyes of
228 NOTES

Europe, the Sixteenth Century (repr., Chicago/London: The University of Chicago Press,
1968), 519-38.
44
Shelly Elisabeth Errington, Meaning and Power in a Southeast Asian Realm (Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 1989), 4.
45
Thai traditional law reinforced the concept of the arbitrary power of the king. See
Frank C. Darling, ‘The Evolution of Law in Thailand’, Review of Politics, 32/2 (1970),
197-218, esp. 200; Sarasin Viraphol, ‘Law in Traditional Siam and China: A Comparative
Study’, JSS 65/1 (January 1977), 81-136, esp. 85.
46
Dhida Saraya, ‘ayutthaya nai thana sunklang amnat kanmuang lae kanpokkrong
[Ayutthaya as a Centre of Political and Administrative Power]’, in Chatthip Nartsupha et
al. (eds.), sun suksa prawattisat Ayutthaya [The Ayutthaya Historical Study Centre]
(Ayutthaya: Ayutthaya Historical Study Centre, 1990), 55-79, esp. 55-6.
47
Robert Heine-Geldern, Conceptions in State and Kingship in Southeast Asia (Ithaca,
N.Y.: Cornell University, Department of Asian Studies, 1956), 10-11; David K. Wyatt,
Thailand: A Short History (repr., Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books, 2001), 67-74.
48
Errington, Meaning and Power, 139.
49
Historically Theravada Buddhism provided a king with the legitimacy to rule as the
possessor of the highest karma (Buddhist concept of accumulated merit), which allowed
him to become a cakravartin (a universal wheel-turning Buddhist monarch). At the same
time, the Ayutthayan King had no problem in identifying himself as a bodhisattva (a
future Buddha) according to the Mahayana school, while styling himself with titles
derived from the Hindu gods. However, the king was obliged by the thammasat (the Mon-
influenced moral code) to rule with Buddhistic righteousness. For the cultural back-
ground of pre-modern Thai kingship, see Dhani Nivat, ‘The Old Siamese Conception of
the Monarchy’, in Collected Articles by H.H. Prince Dhani Nivat (Bangkok: The Siam
Society, 1969), 91-104; see also Sunait Chutintaranond, ‘Cakravatin: the Ideology of
Traditional Warfare in Siam and Burma, 1548-1605’ (Diss., Cornell University, 1990).
50
Dhiravat, ‘Crown Trade and Court Politics’, 131-2; id., ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’,
99-100; Busakorn Lailert, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty, 1688-1767: A Study of the
Thai Monarchy during the Closing Years of the Ayuthya Period’ (Diss., University of
London, 1972), 167-8, 176.
51
Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’, 221.
52
Wyatt, Thailand, 107.
53
Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’, 192; Victor Lieberman, Strange Parallels:
Southeast Asia in Global Context, c. 800-1830 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2003), 299-302.
54
Wyatt, ‘King Borommakot’, 54.
55
Errington, Meaning and Power, 9-10.
56
Kemp, Aspects of Siamese Kingship, 10.
57
Ibid.
58
Lorraine Gesick, ‘The Rise and Fall of King Taksin: A Drama of Buddhist Kingship’,
in id. (ed.) Centers, Symbols, and Hierarchies: Essays on the Classical States of Southeast Asia
(New Haven: Yale University Southeast Asia Studies, 1983), 87-105, esp. 88-9. In prac-
tice, a person cannot know whether or not his karma is to be exhausted. Therefore, a king
was always in implicit competition with potential rivals who might claim to have equal or
greater merit.
59
H. G. Quaritch Wales, Ancient Siamese Government and Administration (repr., New
York: Paragon Book Reprint, 1965), 16; Akin Rabibhadana, The Organization of Thai
Society in the Early Bangkok Period, 1782-1873 (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press,
1969), 40. Prince Dhani Nivat and Busakorn have emphasized that Buddhism was more
influential in shaping Ayutthayan kingship than the Hindu cult of divinity which was
used to bestow outward dignity. Dhani Nivat, ‘The Old Siamese Conception’, 101;
Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’, 122-44.
60
The VOC trade director, Jeremias van Vliet wrote that in their own provinces the gov-
ernors were treated like a king and that King Prasatthong kept his officials poor so as to
prevent them from revolting against him. Jeremias van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, in id.,
Van Vliet’s Siam, ed. Chris Baker et al. (Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books, 2005), 145-8. The
 TO INTRODUCTION 229

VOC surgeon Engelbert Kaempfer, who visited Ayutthaya in 1690, was less than
impressed by the dirty and rather less than well-appointed hall and residence of the
Phrakhlang. Engelbert Kaempfer, A Description of the Kingdom of Siam 1690 (Bangkok:
Orchid Press, 1998), 26. (Originally published in English in 1727.) On the other hand,
the French priest Nicolas Gervaise observed that the prominent officials spared nothing
to build temples the one more magnificent than the other. Nicolas Gervaise, The Natural
and Political History of the Kingdom of Siam, tr. and ed. John Villiers (Bangkok: White
Lotus Press, 1998), 139.
61
For a short analysis of the link between the display of wealth and power in early mod-
ern South-East Asia, see J. Kathirithamby-Wells, ‘Forms and Concepts of Courtly Wealth
in Seventeenth Century Aceh, Ayutthaya and Banten’, in Sarjana, Special Issue (1994), 57-
69. In traditional Thai society, which was obsessed with social hierarchy and social status,
acts of public generosity and gift-giving were used to demonstrate the king’s power (to
give) and so confirm his position. A. Brand, ‘Merit, Hierarchy and Royal Gift-giving in
Traditional Thai Society’, BKI 131/1 (1975), 111-37, esp. 135-6. For the use of textiles
to service court protocol and patronage, see John Guy, Woven Cargoes: Indian Textiles in
the East (London: Thames and Hudson, 1998), 121-51.
62
For the topic of wealth display by the nobility in Late Ayutthaya, see Lieberman,
Strange Parallels, 296-7.
63
The previous historiography of the early development of Ayutthaya has stated that the
kingdom had first risen as a hinterland state and later became active in maritime trade.
Recently, Chris Baker has argued the opposite, using in particular early Chinese accounts
of the polity, stating that Ayutthaya had been first a maritime power focusing on control-
ling trade routes and supply sources, and only afterwards became a territorial power. Chris
Baker, ‘Ayutthaya Rising: From Land or Sea?’, JSEAS 34/1 (February 2003), 41-62.
64
Theoretically, the corvée system required ‘all freemen’ to render labour ‘six months a
year’ to the State. The manpower was used in the king’s service, constructing and main-
taining public works and engaging in military campaigns, and was distributed for the use
of the krom of the chao and khunnang. However, recent research has questioned the por-
trayal of a static rabop phrai by the previous study. See Junko Koizumi, ‘King’s Manpower
Constructed: Writing the History of the Conscription of Labour in Siam’, SEAR 10/1
(2002), 31-61.
65
For ‘port-polity’ as a historical category of South-East Asia, see J. Kathirithamby-
Wells, ‘Introduction: An Overview’, in J. Kathirithamby-Wells and John Villiers (eds.),
The Southeast Asian Port and Polity: Rise and Demise (Singapore: Singapore University
Press, 1990), 1-16.
66
Wyatt, Thailand, 86-7.
67
Kathirithamby-Wells, ‘Forms and Concepts of Courtly Wealth’, 57. This claim and
Lieberman’s argument based on demographic and domestic commercial growth champi-
on the role of local agency in the commercial expansion of Ayutthaya and South-East Asia,
which is often seen as a result of external demand. Lieberman, Strange Parallels, 296.
68
Kathirithamby-Wells, ‘Introduction’, 5.
69
For a survey of the trade of Siam with Asian partners, see Kennon Breazeale, ‘Thai
Maritime Trade and the Ministry Responsible’, in id. (ed.), From Japan to Arabia:
Ayutthaya’s Maritime Relations with Asia (Bangkok: The Foundation for the Promotion of
Social Sciences and Humanities Textbooks Project, 1999), 23-45.
70
A part of the Three Seals Laws (Kot Mai Tra Sam Duang)—the Law of Civil Hierarchy
(probably of 1466)—outlines the basic organization of the Phrakhlang Sinka. For a survey
of this ministry, see Breazeale, ‘Thai Maritime Trade’, 5-15.
71
Saichon Wannarat has suggested that the eighteenth-century ruling class became
more bourgeois, materialistic, consumerist, imbued with empirical views and a mercan-
tilist mind, as a result of its increasing participation in trade. Saichon Wannarat, ‘setthak-
it lae sangkom thai nai samai plai ayutthaya [Thai Economy and Society in the Late
Ayutthaya Period]’, warasan thammasat [Journal of Thammasat University], 11/3
(September 1982), 6-27.
72
Abraham Bogaert, Historische reizen door d’oostersche deelen van Asia: mitsg. van
omstandig verhaal van de Bantamschen inlanschen oorlog, het driven der Franciozen uit het
230 NOTES

koninkryk Siam, en ’t geen aan kaap de goede hoop in den jaare 1706 is voorgevallen tot aan
het opontbod des gouverneurs W. A. van der Stel (Amsterdam: Ten Hoorn, 1711); François
Valentyn, Oud en nieuw Oost-Indiën, III: B (Dordrecht: Joannes van Braam/Amsterdam:
Gerard Onder de Linden, 1726). Both works bear a resemblance to other accounts writ-
ten in the seventeenth century. Valentyn referred to his sources as being, for example Van
Vliet and the French diplomats Alexandre de Chaumont and Simon de La Loubère.
Bogaert, who claimed to have been to Siam in 1690, did not mention any source, but his
account tends to lack originality for it does not, or not explicitly, reflect what could have
been occurrences contemporaneous with his stay.
73
For information on the archives of the VOC, see M. A. P. Meilink-Roelofsz, R. Raben
and H. Spijkerman (eds.), De archieven van de Verenigde Oostindische Compagnie/The
Archives of the Dutch East India Company, 1602-1795 (The Hague: Sdu Uitgeverij, 1992).

Notes to Chapter One

1
Schouten’s work first appeared as Notitie vande situatie, regeeringe, macht, religie, costuy-
men, traffijcqen ende andere remercquable saecken des Coninghrijcks Siam (’s-Gravenhage:
Aert Meuris, 1638). Its English version was published in the double volume François
Caron and Joost Schouten: A True Description of the Mighty Kingdoms of Japan and Siam, tr.
Roger Manley (London, 1663). A new edition of Manley’s translation was edited with
commentary by C. R. Boxer in 1935. All references are from Boxer’s edition. (Hereafter:
Schouten, ‘Description of Siam’.)
2
Jeremias van Vliet, Beschryving van het koningryk Siam. Mitsgaders het verhaal van den
oorsprong, onderscheyd, politijke regering, d´ecclesiatique en costuymelijke huyshoudinge van
d´Edelen en Borgerlijke Lieden: als mede den loop der Negotie, en andere remarquable saaken
des Koningrijks Siam (Leiden: Frederik Haaring, 1692). English version by L. F. van
Ravenswaay, ‘Translation of Jeremias van Vliet’s Description of the Kingdom of Siam’, JSS
7 (1910), 1-108. It has been republished in Van Vliet, Van Vliet’s Siam. All references are
from this edition. (Hereafter: Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’.)
3
Cornelis van Nijenrode, ‘Remonstrantie en verthoninge der gelegentheyt des coninck-
rijx van Siam mitsgaders haeren handel ende wandel ende waar de negotie meest in bestaet
etc.’, Kroniek van het Historisch Genootschap Gevestigd te Utrecht, 10 (1854), 176-91.
(Hereafter: Van Nijenrode, ‘Remonstrantie’.)
4
VOC 1125, Dagregister Jeremias van Vliet, 11 July 1637, fos. 621r-623r. Previously
in 1633, King Prasatthong had asked the Dutch to submit the names of all the cities and
villages in the Dutch Republic. VOC 1113, Cort verhael over de voijagie naer Jambij ende
Chijam alsmede van de overleveringe der missive ende gesonden schenckagie van den
prince van Orangien aen den coninck van Chijam in den jaere 1633 binnen de coninck-
lijcke hooftstadt Judia, wel ende behoorlijck geeffectueert door den commandeur Jan
Joosten de Roij [Short story of the voyage to Jambi and Siam and of the presentation of
the letter and gifts from the Prince of Orange to the King of Siam in the year 1633 in the
royal capital Ayutthaya, well and properly performed by the commander Jan Joosten de
Roij], Jan Joosten de Roij, 30 Sept. 1633, fo. 456r.
5
Chris Baker has recently suggested reading Van Vliet’s ‘Description of Siam’ as a pro-
posal for Dutch colonization of the kingdom. Whether it really was what Van Vliet had
in mind, the VOC obviously had no intention of conquering Siam. Baker, ‘Introduction’
[to Van Vliet’s Description of the Kingdom of Siam], in Van Vliet, Van Vliet’s Siam, 91-8,
esp. 97-8.
6
Smith, The Dutch, 111.
7
For the VOC’s tin trade at Ligor, see Supaporn Ariyasajsiskul, ‘De VOC in Ligor: met
nadruk op de tinhandel, 1640-1756’ (MA thesis, Leiden University, 1999).
8
Smith, The Dutch, 110.
9
Dhiravat, ‘Crown Trade and Court Politics’, 133.
10
Dhiravat, ‘The Dutch-Siamese Conflict’, 292.
11
J. J. L. Duyvendak, ‘The First Siamese Embassy to Holland’, T’oung Pao, 32 (1936),
285-92, esp. 288-9; H. Terpstra, De factorij der Oostindische Compagnie te Patani (The
 TO CHAPTER ONE 231

Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1938), 21-2; Smith, The Dutch, 11.

12
Smith, The Dutch, 8-9; Dhiravat, ‘Shift to Isolation?’, 250.
13
Blussé, ‘No Boats to China’, 61.
14
For the exports of Siamese rice and other provisions by the VOC in the seventeenth
century, see Smith, The Dutch, 82-4.
15
For the VOC’s imports into Siam in the seventeenth century, see ibid. 90-4.
16
Ibid. 58-65.
17
Ibid. 61.
18
Ibid. 67; Supaporn, ‘De VOC in Ligor’, 13-21. The VOC had started its tin trade in
the Malay Peninsula in the 1630s, but it was able to expand it significantly after the Dutch
conquest of Portuguese Malacca, which was also a redistribution centre of this product.
Since 1607, the Company had been in contact with the ruler of Ligor, but its interest was
in pepper. In 1636, King Prasatthong succeeded in suppressing the insurrections among
the vassal states of Ayutthaya in the south; as a result, the Kingdom of Ligor was divided
into a number of lesser provinces which answered directly to Ayutthaya.
19
Smith, The Dutch, 110.
20
Breazeale, ‘Thai Maritime Trade’, 9.
21
VOC 1206, Missive Volkerus Westerwolt to Governor-General and Council of the
Indies (hereafter: to Batavia), 28 Oct. 1654, fos. 2r-11v, 16v-17r.
22
Dhiravat, ‘Crown Trade and Court Politics’, 139.
23
Smith, The Dutch, 37-9; Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 292, 298.
24
VOC 1240, Rapport [Report] Jan van Rijck, 3 Nov. 1662, fo. 1493v; Dhiravat, ‘The
Prasatthong Dynasty’, 297-9.
25
The original Dutch text of the 1664 Treaty is in Corpus Diplomaticum Neerlando-
Indicum, 6 vols., ed. J. E. Heeres and F. W. Stapel (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1907-
1955), II, 280-5. (Hereafter: Corpus Diplomaticum.) The English translation of 1886 by
the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Siam has been published in Smith, The Dutch, 138-41.
26
Dhiravat, ‘The Dutch-Siamese Conflict’, 300-1, 304.
27
Smith, The Dutch, 35-43; Dhiravat, ‘The Dutch-Siamese Conflict’, 304, 305-6;
Dhiravat, ‘Crown Trade and Court Politics’, 137.
28
For the tensions building up to Siam’s declaration of war on England/the EIC, see
Hutchinson, Adventurer in Siam, 123-52.
29
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 339-43, 373-4, 410-16, 429.
30
Dhiravat, ‘Shift to Isolation’, 44-5.
31
Remco Raben, ‘Ayutthaya, King Phetracha and the World’, paper given at the
Seminar Crossroads of Thai and Dutch History, National Museum of Ethnology, Leiden, 9-
11 Sept. 2004, 10.
32
Generale missiven van gouverneurs-generaal en raden aan Heren XVII der Verenigde
Oostindische Compagnie, 11 vols., ed. W. P. Coolhaas, J. van Goor and J. E. Schooneveld-
Oosterling (’s-Gravenhage: Rijks Geschiedkundige Publicatiën, 1960-2004), VII: 1713-
1725, 15 Jan. 1716, 204-5; 19 Feb. 1716, 219 (hereafter: Generale missiven); Raben and
Dhiravat, ‘Tipping Balances’, 64.
33
Raben and Dhiravat, ‘Tipping Balances’, 65, 71. The original Dutch text of the 1709
Treaty appears in Corpus Diplomaticum, IV, 273-5.
34
VOC 2219, Consideratien van Wijbrand Blom over de presenten staat van den han-
del, en verdere toestant der saken, aan de comptoir tot Siam en Ligor [Considerations by
Wijbrand Blom on the present state of trade and the state of affairs, to the office[s] in
Siam and Ligor], Wijbrand Blom, 25 Mar. 1733, fos. 191-362; VOC 2383, Missive
Theodorus van den Heuvel to Batavia, 25 Jan. 1736, fos. 40-2 (also referring to Blom’s
advice); VOC 2868, Beschrijvingen van Macassar en Siam [Descriptions of Makassar and
Siam], Adriaan de Nijs, December 1756, fos. 795-808; VOC 3152, Missive Abraham
Werndlij to Batavia, 18 Dec. 1765, fos. 14-15. See also Raben and Dhiravat, ‘Tipping
Balances’, 66, 75.
35
VOC 2193, Missive Rogier van Alderwereld and Pieter Sijen to Batavia, 19 Dec.
1731, fos. 20-1.
36
Jennifer Wayne Cushman, Fields from the Sea: Chinese Junk Trade with Siam during
the Late Eighteenth and Early Nineteenth Centuries (2nd ed., Ithaca, NY: Cornell Southeast
232 NOTES

Asia Program, 2000), 128-9.

37
Dhiravat na Pombejra, ‘Princes, Pretenders and the Chinese Phrakhlang’, 115-20.
The Chinese also became quickly rooted in the provincial bureaucracy in such places as
Ligor.
38
Raben and Dhiravat, ‘Tipping Balances’, 66.
39
Ibid. 65, 69.
40
VOC 2718, Missive Gerrit Fek and Nicolaas Bang to Batavia, 28 Dec. 1747, fo. 39;
Generale missiven, XI: 1743-1750, 29 Sept. 1747, 483-5; 31 Dec. 1747, 520. The VOC
reported that four French warships helped fight the English and Portuguese pirates off
Tenasserim in 1712, and subsequently their commander was rewarded by King Thaisa. In
1723, the French Director in Canton sent a ship with Chinese goods to Ayutthaya but
had no success, according to the Dutch. VOC 1841, Missive Dirk Blom and Willem de
Bevere to Batavia, 4 Jan. 1713, fos. 1-2; VOC 1996, Missive Van Alderwereld to Batavia,
20 Jan. 1723, fos. 17-18.
41
Anderson, English Intercourse, 389-90.
42
VOC 1743, Missive Aarnout Cleur to Batavia, 22 Oct. 1706, fo. 33. In 1733, an
embassy from the English Governor of Bengal arrived in Ayutthaya and failed to achieve
anything. To make matters worse, opium—contraband in Siam—was found in the
ambassador’s ship. VOC 2286, Missive Sijen to Batavia, 30 Nov. 1733, fos. 43-5.
43
VOC 3089, Missive Werndlij to Batavia, 28 Jan. 1763, fo. 8; VOC 3152, Missive
Werndlij to Batavia, 28 Dec. 1764, fos. 19-21.
44
The original Dutch text of the 1754 Treaty appears in Corpus Diplomaticum, VI, 20-
2.
45
In the eighteenth century, Banka in Sumatra became the most important source for
tin for the VOC. See Gaastra, The Dutch East India Company, 124-6.
46
VOC 3024, Missive Werndlij to Batavia, 4 Dec. 1761, fos. 7-8.
47
VOC 3125, Generale missive, 20 Oct. 1765, fos. 50v-56v.
48
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 128; Antonio da Silva Rego, ‘A Short Survey of
Luso-Siamese Relations from 1511 to Modern Times’, in the Calouste Gulbenkian
Foundation (ed.), Thailand and Portugal: 476 Years of Friendship (2nd ed., Bangkok: The
Embassy of Portugal, 1987), 7-25, esp. 10.
49
VOC 1075, Translaet van de missive van den coninck van Siam aen den gouverneur
generaal [Translation of a letter [of the Phrakhlang in the name of ] the King of Siam to
the Governor-General], 5 Jan. 1622, fos. 218-9.
50
Van Nijenrode, ‘Remonstrantie’, 8.
51
Schouten, ‘Description of Siam’, 101-2; Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 122-4.
52
Smith, The Dutch, 112.
53
Ibid. 18-20.
54
VOC 1157, Journaelse aenteeckening [Journal note] Reinier van Tzum, 17 May
1644, fo. 668r.
55
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 228-30.
56
Smith, The Dutch, 29.
57
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 338.
58
Ibid. 233-4.
59
In 1650, Van Goens, later Governor-General of the Indies (1678-81), was sent to
Ayutthaya to investigate the financial problems which the former Opperhoofd Jan van
Muijden (1646-50) had left behind and to take temporary charge of the office. He also
presented the letters and gifts from Batavia to King Prasatthong and the Phrakhlang.
Alfons van der Kraan, ‘On Company Business: The Rijckloff van Goens Mission to Siam,
1650’, Itinerario, 22/2 (1998), 42-84, esp. 74-5.
60
VOC 1407, Memorie van Faa zaliger aan Keijts [Memorandum left by the late Faa to
Keijts], 15 Jan. 1685, fo. 3215r-v. Actually, Zheng Jing, the grandson and successor of
Zheng Chenggong, had already been defeated in 1683.
61
For the tensions between the VOC and Siam concerning the Malay states during the
1680s, see Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 367-71.
62
Dhiravat, ‘The Dutch-Siamese Conflict’, 305.
63
Van Goor also points out that, occasionally, China did send out low-ranking envoys,
 TO CHAPTER TWO 233

or ‘messengers of an imperial edict’, with limited liberty to negotiate, and that Safavid Iran
a few times sent envoys to Europe to seek support against the Ottoman Empire. Jurrien
van Goor, ‘Merchants as Diplomats: Embassies as an Illustration of European-Asian
Relations’, in id., Prelude to Colonialism, 27-47, esp. 45-7.
64
Anthony Reid, ‘Documenting the Rise and Fall of Ayudhaya as a Regional Trade
Centre’, in id., Charting the Shape of Early Modern Southeast Asia (Chiang Mai: Silkworm
Books, 1999), 85-99, esp. 94.
65
For a detailed study of this topic, see Suebsaeng Promboon, ‘Sino-Siamese Tributary
Relations, 1282-1853’ (Diss., University of Wisconsin, 1971).
66
It should be remembered that Ayutthaya often had a ‘shared sovereignty’ over its vas-
sal with a third party. For instance, Cambodia accepted the overlordship of both Siam and
Vietnam. The Malay tributaries of Siam often sought help from the Dutch. Thongchai
Winichakul, Siam Mapped: A History of the Geo-body of a Nation (2nd ed., Chiang Mai:
Silkworm Books, 1998), 85-8.
67
Dhiravat, Siamese Court Life, 109.
68
Ibid. 123-4.
69
According to Van Vliet, Siam always treated Aceh as an equal power. Van Vliet,
‘Description of Siam’, 134.
70
Reid, Age of Commerce, II, 234-5.
71
The first Siamese embassy to the Dutch Republic has been presented in Paul Pelliot,
‘Les relations du Siam et de la Hollande en 1608’, T’oung Pao, 32 (1936), 223-9;
Duyvendak, ‘The First Siamese Embassy to Holland’.
72
Since the seven Dutch provinces declared their independence from Spain in 1581, the
Stadholders were ‘appointed’ by the States of the provinces and no longer by the Spanish
King. Only in 1747 did the office become ‘hereditary’ but it was abolished in 1795 as a
result of the French occupation.
73
Rita Wassing-Visser, Royal Gifts from Indonesia: Historical Bonds with the House
Orange-Nassau, 1600-1938 (Zwolle: Waanders, 1995), ‘Chapter 1: The Republic of the
Seven United Netherlands’, 22-51, esp. 28, 30.
74
Van Goor, ‘Merchants as Diplomats’, 32.
75
M. S. Anderson, The Rise of Modern Diplomacy, 1450-1919 (London/New York:
Longman, 1993), 60-1.
76
Van Goor, ‘Merchants as Diplomats’, 38, 40.
77
For example, King Phetracha asked for Dutch naval protection for Siamese junks in
the Indian Ocean after one of his junks had been robbed by the English on its return jour-
ney from Masulipatam. His successor, King Süa, made the same request. VOC 1623,
Missive Gideon Tant to Batavia, 1698-9, fos. 59-60; Translation of a Missive Phrakhlang
to Batavia, 6 Mar. 1699, fos. 56-60.
78
VOC 2193, Dagregister Van Alderwereld, 3 June 1730, fo. 31; Translaet missive van
het Siams hof [Translation of a letter from the Siamese court], fos. 73-5.
79
VOC 2438, Missive Van den Heuvel to Batavia, 25 Jan. 1738, fos. 20-1.
80
VOC 1868, Missive D. Blom to Batavia, 14 May 1715, fos. 40-5.

Notes to Chapter Two

1
See, for example, the instructions for the VOC employees of 1607 and 1617, in Pieter
van Dam, Beschryvinge van de Oostindische Compagnie, ed. F. W. Stapel (The Hague:
Nijhoff, 1927), I, 584-601. These instructions gave direction to the trade directors and
assistants about how to administer such Company affairs as record- and bookkeeping,
handling the VOC ships, and disciplining subordinates on the spot. The 1607 order was
especially concerned with the behaviour of employees; for instance, it prohibited private
trade, conversion to Asian religions, maintaining a luxurious life-style, and courtship with
local women. The first and the last were difficult to prevent.
2
For the ranks, titles, and insignia which the Dutch Opperhoofd usually received, see
Smith, The Dutch, 106.
3
The Kotmai Tra Sam Duang were compiled and revised, on the basis of the surviving
234 NOTES

laws of Ayutthaya, in 1805 at the behest of the founder of the Chakri Dynasty, King Rama
I (r. 1782-1809).
4
Corpus Diplomaticum, II, 280-5; Smith, The Dutch, 138-41 (English translation).
5
VOC 1945, Memorie door Blom aan sijn vervanger ter naricht gelaten [Instruction by
(Wijbrand) Blom to his successor], 22 Dec. 1720, 30-92.
6
Schouten, ‘Description of Siam’, 100; Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 112, 153-4.
7
Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 164-5. Van Vliet’s assertion that one-third of the
inheritance went to the King was supported by Choisy, while Heecq emphasized the
King’s absolute power on matters concerning his subject’s estates. Abbé de Choisy, Journal
of a Voyage to Siam 1685-1686, tr. Michael Smithies (Kuala Lumpur, 1993), 190 (origi-
nally published in 1687); Gijsbert Heecq, ‘Derde Voijagie van Gijsbert Heecq Naer Oost
Indijen’, ed. S. P. l’Honoré Naber, Marineblad, 25 (1910-11), 422-50, esp. 434.
8
VOC 1194, Missive Westerwolt to Batavia, 22 Oct. 1652, fo. 244r.
9
Schouten, ‘Description of Siam’, 100-1; see also Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 154.
A person could prove his innocence by swallowing this charmed rice ball without spitting
it out.
10
Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 107; Nicholas Gervaise, The Natural and Political
History of the Kingdom of Siam, tr. and ed. John Villiers (Bangkok: White Lotus, 1998),
61. (Originally published in 1688.)
11
These texts reflect the dominating concerns of Dutch law in Asia with such issues as
inheritance, municipal order, control of trade, and private property. For detailed com-
ments on the Statutes of Batavia, see Peter Burns, ‘The Netherlands East Indies: Colonial
Legal Policy and the Definitions of Law’, in Hooker, M. B. (ed.), Laws of South-East Asia,
II: European Laws in South-East Asia (Singapore: Butterworth, 1986), 148-298, esp. 195.
12
For an overview of these Thai codes of law, see Yoneo Ishii, ‘The Thai Thammasat
(with a Note on the Lao Thammasat)’, in Hooker, M. B. (ed.), Laws of South-East Asia, I:
The Pre-Modern Texts (Singapore: Butterworth, 1986), 143-203. Ishii divides the content
of traditional Thai law into public law and private law. The former includes the Preamble
(Phrathammasat) which explains the authority of the law text; the king, bureaucracy, and
administration; public order with emphasis on types of crime and punishment; and judi-
cial process. The latter consisted of the legal categories of people; marriage and divorce;
property; and obligations (damage caused to person or property; contract).
13
Remco Raben, ‘Batavia and Colombo: the Ethnic and Spatial Order of Two Colonial
Cities’ (Diss., Leiden University, 1996), 197.
14
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 210-12.
15
Han ten Brummelhuis and John Kleinen, A Dutch Picnic in Ayutthaya, 1636
(Amsterdam: University of Amsterdam, 1984).
16
Van Vliet’s manuscript in the form of a diary was first published as Verbael ende
Historisch verhael van ’t gene den Vereenighde Oost-Indische Compagnies Dienaers, onder de
directie van Jeremias van Vliet, in de Jaren 1636 ende 1637 bij den Koninck van Siam, in the
Stadt Judia, wedervaren is. Vervatende de Absolute regeeringe ende strenge wetten der
Siammers [Report and Historical Account of the Events which Befell the Servants of the
United Netherlands Chartered East India Company, under the direction of Jeremias van
Vliet in the City of Ayutthaya, in the Kingdom of Siam, in the Years 1636 and 1637.
Containing an Account of the Absolute Government and Severe Laws of the Siamese]
(Amsterdam: Jan Jansz, 1647). It has been translated into English as ‘Diary of the Picnic
Incident, 1636-7’ with an introduction by Alfons van der Kraan, in Van Vliet, Van Vliet’s
Siam, 37-88. [Hereafter: Van Vliet, ‘Diary of the Picnic Incident’.]
17
Van Vliet, ‘Diary of the Picnic Incident’, 52-3; id., ‘Description of Siam’, 112.
18
Ten Brummelhuis and Kleinen, A Dutch Picnic in Ayutthaya, 14.
19
Van der Kraan, ‘Introduction [to ‘Diary of the Picnic Incident]’, in Van Vliet, Van
Vliet’s Siam, 38-9.
20
Van Vliet, ‘Diary of the Picnic Incident’, 86-8.
21
For the text of this declaration, see Van Vliet, ‘Diary of the Picnic Incident’, 84. It is
incorporated as ‘Copie van de acte door den Siamschen coninck den coopman Jeremias
van Vliet afgedrongen te passeren ende nae te coomen, 30 september [sic] 1636’ [Engelse
vertaling], in Corpus Diplomaticum, I, 284-5.
 TO CHAPTER TWO 235
22
Robert Lingat, ‘La condition des étrangers au Siam au XVIIe siècle’, in John Gilissen
(ed.), Recueils de la Société Jean Bodin, IX: L’étranger (Bruxelles: Editions de la librairie
encyclopédique, 1958), 255-66, 262; Smith, The Dutch, 38; Ten Brummelhuis, Merchant,
Courtier and Diplomat, 38.
The extraterritoriality or the practice of the capitulation of certain rights to foreign sub-
jects began in the eleventh and twelfth centuries when the northern Italian states acquired
such a privilege for their subjects in the Levant. The Ottoman rulers extended the same
concession to the subjects of the European powers in their realm, for example, to France
in 1535 and to England in 1583. In 1612, the Dutch managed to secure the extraterrito-
rial right in the Ottoman Empire. Despite the lack of reciprocity, the treaties of capitula-
tion concluded in this period did not signify any Dutch and European dominance over
the Turks. In return, the Ottoman Government expected, for example, from the English
an active contribution towards the imperial army and navy. The capitulation was meant
to be the foundation of the Dutch presence in the Empire and the Dutch collaboration
against Spain.
23
‘The Dutch-Thai Treaty of 1664’, in Smith, The Dutch, 139.
24
VOC 1415, Missive Johannes Keijts to Batavia, 17 Dec. 1685, fos. 896r-897v. See also
Chapter Five, 133-4.
25
For the text of the Franco-Siamese Treaty of 10 December 1685, see L. de Reinach,
Recueil des traités conclus par la France en Extrême-Orient, I: 1684-1902 (Paris: Leroux,
1902), 4-6; see also Van der Cruysse, Siam and the West, 346-7.
26
For the text of the Franco-Siamese Treaty of 11 December 1687, see Reinach, Recueil
des traités, I, 8-13. Lingat regards this as a remarkable suggestion from the French side, an
anticipation of the International Court. See Lingat, ‘La condition des étrangers au Siam’,
261-2.
27
VOC 2193, Transport gedaen door het opperhooft Rogier van Alderwereld aen sijn
vervanger Pieter Sijen, 1731, fos. 203-6.
28
Kees Zandvliet, ‘Vestingbouw in de Oost’, in Gerrit Knaap and Ger Teitler (eds.), De
Verenigde Oost-Indische Compagnie tussen oorlog en diplomatie (Leiden: KITLV, 2002),
151-80, esp. 167-70.
29
Smith, The Dutch, 101; VOC 1118, Dagregister Schouten, 10 July 1634, fo. 75r;
Missive Schouten to Batavia, 15 Nov. 1634, fo. 48v; VOC 3089, Missive Werndlij to
Batavia, 31 Dec. 1763, fos. 12-14. Werndlij wrote that the isle remained dry, even when
the neighbourhood stood three to four feet under water.
30
Heecq, ‘Derde Voijagie’, 439-42.
31
Smith, The Dutch, 5.
32
VOC 1118, Dagregister Schouten, 10 July 1634, fo. 75r.
33
Heecq, ‘Derde Voijagie’, 439 (this English translation is from Ten Brummelhuis,
Merchant, Courtier and Diplomat, 25); Gervaise, The Natural and Political History of the
Kingdom of Siam, 48.
34
VOC 1119, Dagregister Van Vliet, 6 Apr. 1636, fo. 1340r.
35
VOC 2239, Dagregister Sijen, 18 July 1732, fo. 60. For a report about the VOC’s
participation in the attempts to cure King Thaisa’s cancer, see Dhiravat na Pombejra, ‘The
Last Year of King Thaisa’s Reign: Data Concerning Politics and Society from the Dutch
East India Company’s Siam Factory Dagregister for 1732’, in Winai Pongsripian (ed.),
khwam yokyon khong adeet/The Wilderness of the Past (Bangkok, 1994), 125-45.
36
Van der Kraan, ‘The Rijckloff van Goens Mission to Siam’, 68.
37
VOC 1596, Missive Thomas van Son to Batavia, 8 Dec. 1697, fo. 57.
38
VOC 1440, Missive Joannes Keijts to Batavia, 23 Nov. 1687, fo. 2256r-v.
39
Dhiravat na Pombejra, ‘VOC Participation in Siamese Society during the Late
Ayutthaya Period, 1688-1767’, in id., Court, Company, and Campong: Essays on the VOC
Presence in Ayutthaya (Ayutthaya: Ayutthaya Historical Study Centre, 1992), 44-62, esp.
46.
40
Heecq, ‘Derde Voijagie’, 446. For example, the VOC used the local Portuguese to go
upcountry—where the Dutch were not allowed to visit—to buy goods, for example deer-
skins. VOC 1119, Dagregister Schouten, 19 Sept. 1636, fo. 1303.
41
Smith, The Dutch, 101.
236 NOTES

42
In order to keep peace with the host society and to save unnecessary costs, the VOC
supported the missionary activity of the Dutch Reformed Church only to a limited extent.
Clerics were appointed to reside and serve in major Dutch settlements, especially Batavia,
and to convert the Asians who had been Roman Catholics as a result of earlier contact
with the Portuguese, in particular in Ceylon and Ambon. An itinerant minister might visit
other Dutch settlements in Asia only once in several years.
43
VOC 1458, Dagregister Pieter van den Hoorn, 5 Mar. 1689, fo. 501r.
44
VOC 2193, Dagregister Van Alderwereld, 20 & 21 Nov. 1730, fos. 47-8; Dhiravat,
‘VOC Participation in Siamese Society’, 49. About René Charbonneau, see Dhiravat na
Pombejra, ‘Towards a History of Seventeenth-Century Phuket’, in Sunait Chutintaranond
and Chris Baker (eds.), Recalling the Pasts: Autonomous History in Southeast Asia (Chiang
Mai: Silkworm Books, 2002), 89-126, esp. 120-1.
45
VOC 2286, Originele resolutie op 11 April 1732 rakende het huwelijk van de
Barquir Paulus Scheper en de jonge dochter Maria Wens [Resolution concerning the mar-
riage of Paulus Scheeper and Maria Wens], fo. 92.
46
Smith, The Dutch, 111.
47
VOC 1945, Memorie W. Blom, 22 Dec. 1720, fo. 68.
48
Ibid., fo. 69.
49
Ibid., fo. 73.
50
Ibid., fos. 72-3; see also Reid, Age of Commerce, II, 90-3.
51
VOC 1945, Memorie W. Blom, 22 Dec. 1720, fo. 69.
52
Ibid., fos. 70-1.
53
Ibid., fo. 75.
54
Ibid., fo. 75.
55
Ibid., fo. 69.
56
Ibid., fos. 75-6.
57
VOC 1458, Dagregister Van den Hoorn, 19 Jan. 1689, fo. 465r.
58
VOC 2239, Dagregister Sijen, 5 May 1732, fo. 39.
59
‘The Dutch-Thai Treaty of 1664’, in Smith, The Dutch, 139.
60
VOC 1945, Memorie W. Blom, 22 Dec. 1720, fo. 69.
61
VOC 2051, Memorie van overgave van Cock aan Isaac Kleeman voor het Ligor-
comptoir [Instruction by (Imel) Cock to Isaac Kleeman regarding the Ligor office],
24 Sept. 1726, fo. 79.
62
VOC 1945, Memorie W. Blom, 22 Dec. 1720, fo. 70.
63
The case of the murder of De Vries is presented in Dhiravat, ‘VOC Participation in
Siamese Society’, 57. VOC 1841, Missive Dirck Blom to Batavia, 15 Dec. 1713, fos. 29-
30; Translaet vonnis van de Siamse Coning over de moordenaars van de matroos Jodocus
de Vries [Translation of the verdict of the Siamese King on the murderers of the sailor
Jodocus de Vries], 5 Feb. 1713, fos. 38-41.
64
For instance, as early as 1621 Van Nijenrode had written that everyone had to step
outside their houses to lie prostrate and pay homage to the King’s procession, and who-
ever failed to do so incurred heavy punishment, even death. Van Nijenrode, ‘Remon-
strantie’, 181.
65
VOC 1945, Memorie W. Blom, 22 Dec. 1720, fos. 91-2.
66
VOC 1458, Dagregister Van den Hoorn, 19 Jan. 1689, fo. 467r-v.
67
Dhiravat na Pombejra, ‘Ayutthaya as a Cosmopolitan Society: A Case Study of Daniel
Brochebourde and His Descendants’, in id., Court, Company, and Campong, 25-43, esp.
37; Ten Brummelhuis, Merchant, Courtier and Diplomat, 47.
68
VOC 2193, Dagregister Van Alderwereld, 30 Nov.-3 Dec. 1731, fos. 180-3.
69
Ibid., 25 & 26 June 1731, fos. 154-5.
70
Reid, Age of Commerce, II, 71.
71
Dhiravat, ‘Ayutthaya as a Cosmopolitan Society’, 35-6.
72
Dhiravat na Pombejra, ‘VOC Employees and their Relationships with Mon and
Siamese Women: A Case Study of Osoet Pegua’, in Barbara Watson Andaya (ed.), Other
Pasts: Women, Gender and History in Early Modern Southeast Asia (Hawaii: Center for
Southeast Asian Studies, 2000), 195-214, esp. 209-11.
73
Jean Gelman Taylor, The Social World of Batavia: European and Eurasian in Dutch Asia
 TO CHAPTER THREE 237

(Wisconsin: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1983), 43, 76.

74
VOC 1456, Rapport Keijts, 14 Feb. 1689, fo. 2012v.
75
For example, VOC 1139, Journaelsche aenteeckeninge van den commissaris Jeremias
van Vliet [Journal notes of Commissioner Jeremias van Vliet], 1 Nov. 1641, fo. 776v;
VOC 1362, Missive Faa to Batavia, 26 Dec. 1680, fo. 956v.
76
Dhiravat, ‘VOC Employees and their Relationships with Mon and Siamese Women’,
206-7.
77
Dhiravat, ‘Daniel Brochebourde and his Descendants’, 35.
78
Dhiravat, ‘VOC Participation in Siamese Society’, 54-6.
79
Ten Brummelhuis, Merchant, Courtier and Diplomat, 55.
80
Smith, The Dutch, 102.
81
Ten Brummelhuis, Merchant, Courtier and Diplomat, 65-70.

Notes to Chapter Three

1
Van Nijenrode, ‘Remonstrantie’, 178. All English quotations are from the translation
by Han ten Brummelhuis (forthcoming, Silkworm Books) which is based on the manu-
script kept at Het Utrechts Archief, Archief Hilten. Van Nijenrode served in Ayutthaya in
1611-12 and as the director there in 1617-21. For biographical details, see Leonard Blussé,
Bitter Bonds: A Colonial Divorce Drama of the Seventeenth Century (Princeton: Markus
Wiener Publishers, 2002), 29-34.
2
Van Nijenrode, ‘Remonstrantie’, 181, 188. The part ‘whether English, Portuguese or
Moors’ which appears in the manuscript was left out of the 1854 publication.
3
In the seventeenth century, it was repeatedly reprinted in Dutch, and translated into
German, French, English, Latin, and Swedish. For bibliographical details, see Smith, The
Dutch, 188; and Lach and Van Kley, Asia in the Making of Europe, III: 1174. For Schou-
ten’s biography, see Generale missiven I: 1610-1638, 370 n. 4; Boxer, A True Description,
139-43; and Leonard Blussé, ‘Justus Schouten en de Japanse gijzeling’, in Nederlandse
Historische Bronnen, Nederlands Historisch Genootschap, 5 (Amsterdam: Verloren,
1984), 69-74.
4
Van Vliet composed his first account ‘Description of Siam’ in 1638 (first published in
1692). In February 1640, he produced the second account Cort Verhael van ’t naturel
eijnde der volbrachter tijt ende successie der Coningen van Siam, voor sooveel daer bij d’oude
historien bekent sijn [Short history of occurrences in the past and the succession of the
Kings of Siam as far as is known from the old histories]. It appeared as The Short History
of the Kings of Siam by Jeremias van Vliet, tr. Leonard Andaya, ed. David K. Wyatt
(Bangkok: The Siam Society, 1975). [Hereafter: Van Vliet, ‘The Short History’.] In
December 1640 the third work followed: Historiael Verhael der Sieckte ende Doot van Pra
Interra-Tsia, 22en Coninck in Siam, ende den Regherenden Coninck Pra Ongh Srij
[Historical Account of the Illness and Death of Pra Interra-Tsia, 22nd King of Siam, and
of the Ruling King Pra Ongh Srij]. Its French version of 1663, on which the English trans-
lation by W. H. Mundie published in 1904 and 1938 was based, was incomplete and inac-
curate. The new translation based on the complete Dutch manuscript by Alfons van der
Kraan appeared as ‘Historical Account of King Prasat Thong’. [Hereafter: Van Vliet,
‘Historical Account’.] These three accounts and their bibliographical details are included
in Van Vliet, Van Vliet’s Siam. All references are from this edition.
5
Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 103.
6
VOC 1119, Dagregister Schouten, 30 Sept. 1636, fo. 1312.
7
Van Nijenrode, ‘Remonstrantie’, 188-9; Ten Brummelhuis, Merchant, Courtier and
Diplomat, 17.
8
VOC 1098, Wijtloopich verhael in hoedaeniger wijse de missive en de geschencken
van de doorluchtichsten prince van Orangien aen den coninck van Chiam in den jare
1628 behandicht ende overgelevert zijn door Joost Schouten [Discursive narrative of the
way in which the missive and gifts from the Most Serene Prince of Orange have been pre-
sented to the King of Siam by Joost Schouten in 1628], 1 Feb. 1629, fo. 24r.
9
For King Songtham’s request, see Smith, The Dutch, 17-18.
238 NOTES

10
According to Schouten, the Governor of Bangkok was one of the most prominent
grandees in Siam and son of the ‘former king’ of Phatthalung (Bourdelong in Dutch
sources). He was married to the sole heiress of Patani but had been driven away from there
by political dissension and jealousy. According to the royal chronicle of Patani, Kuning,
the daughter of Queen Ungu, had been married to a Siamese nobleman, Okphraya
Decha, believed to be from Nakhon Si Thammarat, who later abandoned her. With her
mother’s consent, Kuning later married the Sultan of Johor. See Andries Teeuw and David
K. Wyatt, Hikayat Patani, The Story of Patani (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1970), II,
179-82.
11
VOC 1098, Wijtloopich verhael ... Schouten, 1628, fos. 22v-23r.
12
Ibid., fo. 24v.
13
Ibid., fo. 25r-v.
14
Ibid., fo. 26r-v.
15
Van Nijenrode, ‘Remonstrantie’, 181.
16
VOC 1098, Wijtloopich verhael ... Schouten, 1628, fo. 27r-v.
17
Ibid., fos. 28r-31v.
18
VOC 1113, Cort verhael over de voijagie naer Jambij ende Chijam alsmede van de
overleveringe der missive ende gesonden schenckagie van den prince van Orangien aen
den coninck van Chijam in den jaere 1633 binnen de conincklijcke hooftstadt Judia, wel
ende behoorlijck geeffectueert door den commandeur Jan Joosten de Roij [Short account
of the voyage to Jambi and Siam, also of the presentation of the missive and the gifts sent
by the Prince of Orange to the King of Siam in the year 1633 in the royal capital
Ayutthaya, well and properly executed by Commander Jan Joosten de Roij], fos. 452v,
453r-v.
19
Ibid., fo. 454v.
20
In another capacity, Okphra Ratchamontri was a quartermaster in charge of the
Portuguese. Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 149. The holder of this title was also men-
tioned as syahbandar in other VOC records.
21
VOC 1113, Cort verhael ... De Roij, 1633, fo. 456v.
22
Ibid., fo. 457v.
23
Ibid., fos. 457v-458r.
24
Ibid., fo. 464r. De Roij also noted that even prominent noblemen like the Phrakhlang
had to attend an elephant of the King when it was ill.
25
Ibid., fo. 460v.
26
Ibid., fos. 458v, 460v.
27
Ibid., fo. 462r; Reid, Age of Commerce, I, 44.
28
VOC 1113, Cort verhael ... De Roij, 1633, fo. 457r. The official, diplomatic relations
between Ayutthaya and Japan only began in 1606 and were conducted between the Thai
Kings and the Shoguns. See Yoko Nagazumi, ‘Ayutthaya and Japan: Embassies and Trade
in the Seventeenth Century’, in Breazeale (ed.), From Japan to Arabia, 79-103. In 1636,
Schouten wrote that the missive from the Prince of Orange was stored alongside the let-
ters from the Emperor of China and the King of Pegu.
29
VOC 1113, Cort verhael ... De Roij, 1633, fo. 467r.
30
VOC 1113, Translaet missive bij sijne majesteijt van Siam aen den doorluchtigen
prince van Orangien geschreven [Translated missive from His Majesty the King of Siam
to the Serene Prince of Orange], 28 Oct. 1633, fo. 368r; Translaet missive van den
stadthouder van den Oija Berckelangh aen den gouverneur generael Brouwer [Translated
missive from the Phrakhlang to Governor-General Brouwer], 31 Jan. 1634, fo. 369r; Cort
verhael ... De Roij, 1633, fo. 463r.
31
VOC 1109, Journaelse aenteijckeninghe Schouten, 28 Sept. 1633, fo. 48v; VOC
1119, Dagregister Schouten, 26 Sept. 1636, fo. 1308.
32
VOC 1119, Dagregister Schouten, 2 Oct. 1636, fo. 1313. Schouten’s appearance
before King Prasatthong in 1636 is described in Dhiravat, Siamese Court Life, 114-15.
33
VOC 1119, Dagregister Schouten, 2 Oct. 1636, fo. 1313.
34
Ibid., 28 Sept. 1636, fos. 1311-12; 2 Oct., fo. 1314; 5 Oct., fo. 1317. The citations
of Van Diemen’s letter of 12 August 1636 are from Van der Kraan, ‘Introduction [to
‘Diary of the Picnic Incident]’, 39.
 TO CHAPTER THREE 239
35
VOC 1118, Dagregister Schouten, 20 Feb. 1635, fo. 131r.
36
VOC 1119, Dagregister Schouten, 10 Nov. 1636, fo. 1336.
37
Ibid., 13 Nov. 1636, fo. 1337; Generale missiven, I: 1610-1638, 28 Dec. 1636, 591.
38
VOC 1119, Missive Schouten to Batavia, 14 Nov. 1636, fo. 1262v.
39
Van der Kraan, ‘Introduction [to ‘Diary of the Picnic Incident]’, 38-9. See also
Chapter Two, 39.
40
VOC 862, Missive Batavia to King Prasatthong, 23 Aug. 1638, and Missive Batavia
to Phrakhlang, 23 Aug. 1638.
41
VOC 1139, Missive Van Vliet to Batavia, 22 Oct. 1641, fo. 760r.
42
VOC 1139, Journaelsche aenteeckeninge Van Vliet, 768v; VOC 1139, Resolutie van
de Raad (Ayutthaya) [Council resolution], 13 Apr.-10 Oct. 1641, fo. 737v; Missive Van
Vliet to Batavia, 22 Oct. 1641, fos. 760v-761r.
43
VOC 865, Missive Prince Frederick Henry to King Prasatthong, 16 Dec. 1640.
44
VOC 1139, Journaelsche aenteeckeninge Van Vliet, 29 Oct. 1641, fos. 774v-776r.
45
VOC 1139, Rapport van den commissaris Jeremias van Vliet aengaende sijn bevin-
dinge in Siam ende bocht van Pattany [Report of Commissioner Jeremias van Vliet
regarding his mission in Siam and the Bay of Patani], Van Vliet, 28 May 1642, fo. 795v;
Missive Van Tzum to Batavia, 28 Dec. 1641, fo. 726r-v. The other gifts from King
Prasatthong to the Governor-General consisted of a Siamese gold water flagon, velvet, and
Chinese gold laken.
46
VOC 1125, Dagregister Van Vliet, 11 July 1637, fos. 621r-623r.
47
VOC 1139, Rapport Van Vliet, 28 May 1642, fos. 794v-795r.
48
VOC 1139, Rapport Van Vliet, 28 May 1642, fos. 804r-805r.
49
VOC 1131, Dagregister Van Vliet, 21 Sept. 1639, fo. 945; 25 Sept. 1639, fo. 946.
This demand clearly troubled both the VOC employees in Ayutthaya and the Siamese
courtiers who knew the court protocol. The former only feebly tried to convince the lat-
ter by saying that it was common for Asian rulers to write to the Governor-General them-
selves.
50
Reinier Hesselink suggests that changes in the VOC’s diplomatic conduct in relation
to Japan can be seen in the following instances. In response to the forced relocation of the
VOC factory from Hirado to Nagasaki in 1641 and its concomitant restrictions, Van
Diemen’s letter of 1642 practically gave the Japanese authorities an ultimatum to restore
Dutch privileges (or the Dutch would stop coming) and demanded a concrete reply to it.
Another occasion concerned the Shogun’s desire that a real ambassador be sent from
Holland to come and thank him on behalf of the ‘King of Holland’ for the good treat-
ment and release of Dutch shipwreck victims held as prisoners in Japan. To avoid the cost
of preparing an embassy from Holland, Van Diemen’s successor, Cornelis van der Lijn
(1645-50), in 1649 sent a bogus ambassador who died on board before reaching Japan.
The ambassador’s replacement carried out the mission to the shogunal court in 1650. See
Reinier H. Hesselink, Prisoners from Nambu: Reality and Make-Believe in Seventeenth-
Century Japanese Diplomacy (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2002), 127-9, 142-5.
51
VOC 1067, Missive Van Nijenrode to Kamer Amsterdam, 20 Sept. 1617, fo. 121r-v.
52
Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 138-9.
53
VOC 1118, Dagregister Van Vliet, 16-18 Feb. 1634, fo. 55r-v; Nagazumi, ‘Ayutthaya
and Japan’, 93-5.
54
Van Vliet reported the arrivals in Ayutthaya of two embassies from ‘Pegu’ in 1637 and
1639. His use of ‘Pegu’ is rather confusing in both the Company report and in his
‘Description of Siam’. He wrote that the embassy of 1639 was sent by the ‘Ava Emperor
in Pegu’; for the rest of the report he used ‘Pegu’ and ‘Peguan’ to describe the embassy and
its ambassador. According to established knowledge, King Thalun (1629-48) left Pegu and
made Ava his royal capital in 1635. Van Vliet’s explanation of the purpose of the 1637
embassy is confusing too. To avoid even more confusion, I present the information accor-
ding to Van Vliet and leave its accuracy to further debate.
55
VOC 1131, Dagregister Van Vliet, 17-19 March 1639, fos. 858-9.
56
Victor Lieberman, Burmese Administrative Cycles: Anarchy and Conquest, 1580-1760
(Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1984), 55-6.
57
VOC 1125, Dagregister Van Vliet, 25 May 1637, fos. 609v-610r; 18 June 1637, fo.
240 NOTES

616r; Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 126.

58
VOC 1131, Dagregister Van Vliet, 24 Mar. 1639, fos. 861-2.
59
Ibid., 22 Mar. 1639, fo. 860.
60
Anderson, The Rise of Modern Diplomacy, 24-6, 53-6.
61
VOC 1131, Dagregister Van Vliet, 26 Mar. 1639, fos. 862-3; Van Vliet, ‘Description
of Siam’, 134-6.
62
VOC 1098, Wijtloopich verhael ... Schouten, 1628, fos. 25v, 27v.
63
VOC 1119, Dagregister Van Vliet, 22 Aug. 1636, fo. 1371. According to Van Vliet,
although Ceylonese elephants were supposed to be easier to obtain and cheaper, Bengal
could not procure them because the King of Kandy would not give his consent for the
export of these animals as long as his kingdom was at war with the Portuguese.
64
VOC 1131, Dagregister Van Vliet, 29 Mar. 1639, fo. 863. Van Vliet, ‘Description of
Siam’, 143-4.
65
Sanjay Subrahmanyam, The Portuguese Empire in Asia 1500-1700: A Political and
Economic History (London: Longman, 1993), 164.
66
VOC 1119, Dagregister Schouten, 19 Sept. 1636, fo. 1302.
67
VOC 1119, Missive Van Vliet to Batavia, 13 Nov. 1636, fo. 1287.
68
Antonio da Silva Rego, ‘A Short Survey of Luso-Siamese Relations from 1511 to
Modern Times’, in the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation (ed.), Thailand and Portugal:
476 Years of Friendship (2nd ed. Bangkok: The Embassy of Portugal, 1987), 7-25, esp. 10;
P. Manuel Teixeira, Portugal na Tailândia (Macao: Imprensa Nacional de Macau 1983),
139-40.
69
I have identified his name with the help of Rego, ‘Luso-Siamese Relations’, 10; and
Teixeira, Portugal na Tailândia, 139-40.
70
VOC 1131, Dagregister Van Vliet, 17 Apr. 1639, fos. 869-70.
71
The name of the Franciscan father, which is not mentioned in the Dutch account, is
Fr António de S. Domingos. See Teixeira, Portugal na Tailândia, 139.
72
Schouten, ‘Description of Siam’, 109; Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 129.
73
VOC 1131, Dagregister Van Vliet, 17 May 1639, fo. 882.
74
Ibid., 19 May 1639, fos. 886-7.
75
In 1636, the Shogunate, which was, instead of the Emperor, the real power in Japan,
forced the Portuguese to move from Nagasaki to Deshima and kept them under strict sur-
veillance. Later, it asked the VOC for naval help to attack Macao and Manila. The Dutch
instead assisted it in suppressing the Christian-inspired Shimabara Revolt. The revolt con-
firmed the perceived threat presented by the local Christians and the Portuguese in the
way of thinking of the Japanese authority. On 4 August 1639, the Japanese embargo on
trading with Portuguese Macao was declared.
76
VOC 1131, Dagregister Van Vliet, 19 May 1639, fos. 887-90.
77
Ibid., fos. 890-1.
78
Ibid., fo. 891.
79
Ibid., 24 May 1639, fos. 898-9.
80
Ibid., 30 May 1639, fos. 902-3.
81
Van Vliet, ‘Short History’, 243; id., ‘Historical Account’, 321.
82
VOC 1131, Dagregister Van Vliet, 7 June 1639, fo. 910.
83
Ibid., 13 June 1639, fos. 912-13.
84
Ibid., 23 June 1639, fo. 917; 29 June 1639, fo. 919; Rego, ‘Luso-Siamese Relations’,
10; Teixeira, Portugal na Tailândia, 139-40.
85
VOC 1131, Dagregister Van Vliet, 19 July 1639, fo. 925.
86
For instance, the Dutch reported that practising Roman Catholicism in Siam was
prohibited for a certain period to anyone who did not belong to the Portuguese commu-
nity. VOC 1139, Missive Van Vliet to Batavia, 4 Nov. 1641, fo. 748r.
87
VOC 1119, Dagregister Schouten, 6 Nov. 1636, fo. 1332.
88
King Prasatthong treated the Mon refugees well, putting them under the supervision
of chiefs of their own nationality and giving them a good settlement site. Van Vliet,
‘Description of Siam’, 125-6.
89
VOC 1118, Dagregister Schouten, 27 June 1634, fo. 74v; 19 July, fo. 75v; 28 July, fo.
76r; 28 Sept., fo. 78r; 2 Oct., fo. 78r; 10, 14 & 16 Oct., fos. 78v-79v; 2 Nov., fo. 79v.
 TO CHAPTER FOUR 241
90
Schouten, ‘Description of Siam’, 98-9; Dhiravat, Siamese Court Life, 85; Van Vliet,
‘Description of Siam’, 117. Van Vliet estimated a lower number of the participants but
confirmed Schouten’s impression.
91
VOC 1119, Dagregister Schouten, 22 Oct. 1636, fos. 1323-4; see also Van Vliet,
‘Description of Siam’, 117, 119.
92
VOC 1125, Dagregister Van Vliet, 12 Aug. 1637, fo. 629r-v.
93
VOC 1139, Dagregister Van Vliet, 26 Oct. 1641, fo. 774v.
94
VOC 1125, Dagregister Van Vliet, 19 Aug. 1637, fos. 630r-631r.
95
Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 156; id., ‘Short History’, 243, 244.
96
VOC 1125, Dagregister Van Vliet, 19 Aug. 1637, fo. 630v.
97
Ibid., 19 Aug. 1637, fo. 631r.
98
Van Nijenrode, ‘Remonstrantie’, 182, 188.
99
Choisy, Journal of a Voyage to Siam, 174-5.
100
For Prasatthong’s millennium crisis, see Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 198-
200.
101
VOC 1131, Dagregister Van Vliet, 16 Apr. 1639, fos. 868-9.
102
Schouten, ‘Description of Siam’, 98; Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 117.
103
VOC 1125, Dagregister Van Vliet, 29 Aug. 1637, fo. 633r.

Notes to Chapter Four

1
Van Nijenrode, ‘Remonstrantie’, 181; Schouten, ‘Description of Siam’, 98; Van Vliet,
‘Description of Siam’, 112-13, 117.
2
Schouten, ‘Description of Siam’, 97.
3
Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 107.
4
Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 114 (citation); id., ‘Short History’, 196, 234.
5
Van Nijenrode, ‘Remonstrantie’, 182, 188; Schouten, ‘Description of Siam’, 109-10.
6
Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 112, 145.
7
VOC 1119, Dagregister Van Vliet, 28 Mar. 1636, fo. 1340r-v.
8
VOC 1127, Missive Van Vliet to Batavia, 22 Oct. 1638, fos. 301r, 303r.
9
VOC 1125, Dagregister Van Vliet, 20 Sept. 1637, fo. 635v.
10
VOC 1113, Cort verhael ... De Roij, 1633, fo. 465v.
11
VOC 1125, Dagregister Van Vliet, 22 Sept. 1637, fo. 636r; Van Vliet, ‘Short
History’, 243; id., ‘Description of Siam’, 114, 146-7.
12
VOC 1125, Dagregister Van Vliet, 6 May 1637, fo. 603v.
13
VOC 1139, Missive Van Vliet and Reinier van Tzum to Joan van Twist, Governor of
Malacca, 22 Oct. 1641, fos. 756v-757r.
14
Van Nijenrode, ‘Remonstrantie’, 189; Schouten, ‘Description of Siam’, 100; Van
Vliet, ‘Historical Account’, 259.
15
VOC 1132, Verhael van d’onwettige, erchlistige, ende geweldige successie der
Coningen in Siam, Schouten, 1639, fos. 483-9.
16
For an analysis of the plot of ‘Historical Account’, see Dhiravat na Pombejra and Chris
Baker, ‘Introduction [to Van Vliet’s ‘Historical Account’]’, in Van Vliet, Van Vliet’s Siam,
247-54, esp. 250-1.
17
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, “Chapter 1: The Usurpation of the Throne,
1628-1629”, 121-52.
18
VOC 1132, Verhael ... Schouten, 1639, fo. 483.
19
Yamada Nagamasa, born around 1590 in present-day Shizuoka, arrived in Ayutthaya
in 1612. By 1621, he became one of the heads of the Japanese community there and
entered royal service. Schouten did not mention this person but only the Japanese guards
(in passing).
20
VOC 1132, Verhael ... Schouten, 1639, fo. 483; Van Vliet, ‘Historical Account’, 259.
21
VOC 1132, Verhael ... Schouten, 1639, fo. 483.
22
Van Vliet, ‘Historical Account’, 262-5.
23
Ibid. 265.
24
Ibid. 269, 271-3.
242 NOTES

25
Ibid. 272-3.
26
VOC 1132, Verhael ... Schouten, 1639, fos. 485-6; Van Vliet, ‘Historical Account’,
280-1.
27
Van Vliet, ‘Historical Account’, 299.
28
The Wangna Prince or the Uparat was mostly understood to be the heir-apparent;
however, it was not always so in reality. Dutch records of the later period often mention
the holder of this office as the ‘Crown Prince’ (kroonprins).
29
Van Vliet, ‘Historical Account’, 300-1.
30
Ibid. 304-7.
31
Okya Phitsanulok himself told Van Vliet the story about the white elephants, which
the latter put down in his writing. Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 176.
32
VOC 1132, Verhael ... Schouten, 1639, fos. 488-9; Van Vliet, ‘Historical Account’,
315-18.
33
VOC 1132, Verhael ... Schouten, 1639, fo. 487.
34
Van Vliet, ‘Historical Account’, 312.
35
VOC 1157, Dagregister Van Tzum, 9 June 1644. Cited in Dhiravat na Pombejra,
‘The Thasai Prince’s Rebellion of 1642: A Forgotten Event in Ayutthayan History’, in
Dedication to Her Royal Highness Princess Galyani Vadhana Krom Luang Naradhiwas Raja-
nagarindra on Her 80th Birthday (Bangkok: The Siam Society, 2003), 145-52, esp. 151.
36
VOC 1132, Verhael ... Schouten, 1639, fo. 489; Van Vliet, ‘Historical Account’, 321.
Van Vliet wrote: ‘The events I have related show how this King, through crafty plots and
many murders, has succeeded in usurping the Crown, and how after having acquired that
Crown illegally, he shed a great deal of blood to confirm his possession of it. Nonetheless,
it is worthy of note that in matters relating to government and well-being of his Kingdom,
His Majesty has been a wise, careful, and mighty Prince, who has possessed his Kingdom
in prosperity and peace.’ The main difference is: in the original signed by the author him-
self, Schouten used the word ‘moderate’ (matich, or matig in modern Dutch), while Van
Vliet, according to Van der Kraan’s translation based on the transcription by Seiichi Iwao
in 1958, used the word ‘mighty’ which is machtig in Dutch.
37
Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 116; Generale missiven, II: 1639-1655, 18 Dec.
1639, 79.
38
Van Vliet, ‘Historical Account’, 321-2.
39
Sombat Chantornwong, ‘khamson thang kanmuang khong van Vliet rue withesobai
khong prachao prasatthong [Van Vliet’s political teaching or foreign policy of King
Prasatthong]’, warasan thammasat [Journal of Thammasat University], 6-1 (1976), 71-
118. The author shows that Van Vliet’s ‘Historical Account’ follows the tenor in
Machiavelli’s writings.
40
See Ten Brummelhuis, Merchant, Courtier and Diplomat, 22-4; Dhiravat, ‘The
Prasatthong Dynasty’, 176-85; Smith, The Dutch, 26-7; see also Chapter One, 27.
41
VOC 1113, Bedencking over ’t versoeck des Conincx van Siam, om d’assistentie
eeniger scheepsmacht tot conqueste van Patany [Consideration of the King of Siam’s
request for naval assistance to conquer Patani], Schouten, 9 May 1634, fos. 486r-490r.
42
VOC 1113, Bedencking ... Schouten, 1634, fo. 487r-v. On this point, Van Vliet list-
ed in detail how the Dutch-Siamese alliance had been of assistance to each other in the
past. See Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 130.
43
Ten Brummelhuis, Merchant, Courtier and Diplomat, 33.
44
VOC 1113, Bedencking … Schouten, 1634, fo. 489v.
45
Patani asked Prasatthong’s brother, the Phrakhlang, and the prominent monks of Wat
Mahathat and ‘Wat Deun’ to help it reconcile itself with the King. (‘Wad Deun’ is either
Wat Doem (now known as Wat Ayotthya) or Wat Phutthaisawan. See the explanation in
Van Vliet’s Siam, 120 n. 67.) Its tributary mission arrived in Ayutthaya in September 1637,
after Queen Ungu’s death. VOC 1119, Dagregister Van Vliet, 23 Mar. 1636, fo. 1340r; 6
Aug. 1636, fo. 1361v; VOC 1125, Dagregister Van Vliet, 18 Sept. 1636 , fo. 635v; Van
Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 132.
46
VOC 1113, Instructie Schouten aan Van Vliet [Instructions by Schouten to Van
Vliet], 4 Feb. 1634, fo. 419v.
47
VOC 1118, Dagregister Schouten, 6 Mar. 1635, fo. 131r.
 TO CHAPTER FIVE 243
48
Ibid., 28 Oct. 1634, fo. 79v.
49
Ibid., 25 Sept. 1634, fo. 77v.
50
VOC 1113, Dagregister Schouten, 11 Jan. 1634, fo. 443v.
51
VOC 1118, Dagregister Schouten, 15 June 1634, fo. 73r.
52
Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 107, 146 (citation).
53
Ibid. 148.
54
VOC 1113, Instructie Schouten aan Van Vliet, 4 Feb. 1634, fo. 419v.
55
VOC 1139, Rapport Van Vliet, 1641-2, fo. 793v.
56
VOC 1105, Schriftelijk rapport van seker besendinge gedaen met vyff scheepen en
jachten zoo op negotien als tot affbreuck van onse algemeyne vyanden alsmede om onse
missive en medegegeven presenten van d’ Ed. heer generael aende Coninginne van Patani
ende Coninck van Chiam te presenteeren [Written report of the sending of five ships and
yachts for trading and fighting our enemies as well as to present our missive and presents
given by the Honourable General to the Queen of Patani and the King of Siam], Antonij
Caen, 1632, fo. 276r.
57
VOC 1105, Schriftelijk rapport … Caen, 1632, fo. 274r-v.
58
VOC 1113, Cort verhael ... De Roij, 1633, fo. 466r-v.
59
VOC 1113, Dagregister Schouten, 2, 17 & 18 Jan. 1634, fos. 442r-444v.
60
VOC 1219, Rapport van Westerwolt aan Governeur-Generaal wegen den toestandt
van ’s Compagnies negotie in Siam sedert 26 februari 1656 [Report by Westerwolt to the
Governor General concerning the state of the Company’s trade in Siam since 26 February
1656], 16 Nov. 1656, fos. 811r-812r.
61
Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 148-9.
62
VOC 1125, Dagregister Van Vliet, 11 July 1637, fos. 621r-623r.
63
VOC 1118, Dagregister Van Vliet, 26 Apr. 1634, fo. 64v.
64
VOC 1216, Missive Westerwolt to Batavia, 16 Feb. 1656, fo. 393r.
65
VOC 1113, Dagregister Schouten, 22 Dec. 1633, fos. 389v-390v. For Van Meerwijk’s
case, see Ten Brummelhuis, Merchant, Courtier and Diplomat, 21.
66
VOC 1118, Dagregister Schouten, 26 July 1634, fo. 75r
67
VOC 1113, Rapport Schouten, 6 Apr. 1634, fo. 431v.
68
VOC 1118, Dagregister Van Vliet, 14 Mar. 1634, fo. 59v.
69
VOC 1131, Dagregister Van Vliet, 1 Mar. 1639, fo. 855.
70
Ibid., 13 Mar. 1639, fo. 858.
71
Van Vliet, ‘Description of Siam’, 116.
72
VOC 1139, Rapport Van Vliet, 28 May 1642, fo. 790r.
73
VOC 1113, Missive Van Vliet to Batavia, 4 Feb. 1634, fo. 412r-v.
74
VOC 1113, Dagregister Schouten, 16 Jan. 1634, fo. 444r.
75
VOC 1118, Dagregister Van Vliet, 29 Mar. 1634, fo. 61r.
76
VOC 1125, Dagregister Van Vliet, 21 Oct. 1637, fo. 641r.
77
VOC 1131, Dagregister Van Vliet, 25 Feb. 1639, fo. 852.
78
VOC 1125, Dagregister Van Vliet, 9 May 1637, fo. 604v.
79
VOC 1119, Dagregister Van Vliet, 8 June 1636, fo. 1361r.

Notes to Chapter Five

1
VOC 1175, Rapport Van Goens, 8 Jan. 1651, fos. 348v-349r; Dhiravat, ‘The
Prasatthong Dynasty’, 248-9.
2
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, “Chapter 4: Conflict among the Princes, 1650-
1657”, 248-82; Dhiravat na Pombejra, ‘The Accession of King Narai according to Dutch
Sources’, paper given at the Seminar Crossroad of Thai-Dutch History, National Museum
of Ethnology, Leiden, 9-11 September 2004.
3
The 1657 conspiracy is mentioned in VOC 1223, Missive Van Rijck to Batavia,
22 Feb. 1657, fo. 806v; The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, tr. Richard D. Cushman, ed.
David K. Wyatt (Bangkok: The Siam Society, 2000), 235-43; see also Dhiravat, ‘The
Prasatthong Dynasty’, 310. The conspiracy of 1670 to replace King Narai with his half-
brother involved not only prominent officials but also some women who served as mes-
244 NOTES

sengers and some monks who gave the plotters their blessing. VOC 1278, Missive N. de
Roij to Batavia, 20 Oct. 1670, fos. 1882v-1883r.
4
VOC 1219, Rapport Westerwolt, 16 Nov. 1656, fos. 815v-816r.
5
Ibid., fos. 815v, 818r-v.
6
VOC 1113, Cort verhael … J. J. de Roij, fo. 457v; VOC 1119, Dagregister Schouten,
4 Oct. 1636, fo. 1316; VOC 1157, Journaelse aenteeckening Van Tzum, 18 & 19 Mar.
1644, fos. 660v-661r.
7
The Thai chronicles and Gervaise explain that Sisuthammaracha wanted to take a
‘uterine sister’ of Narai as his wife and thereby offended the Prince who considered his
uncle’s passion for his sister improper. In view of the fact that Narai himself later made
one of his half-sisters his queen, the conflict between him and his uncle had rather a polit-
ical than a moral cause. The Ship of Sulaiman, an account written by a member of the
Persian embassy to Siam in 1685, suggests that this conflict arose from Narai’s political
ambitions. The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 228; Gervaise, History of Siam, 158;
Muhammad Rabi Ibn Muhammad Ibrahim, The Ship of Sulaiman, tr. John O’Kane
(London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1972), 94-7; for an analysis of the conflict between
Narai and Sisuthammaracha, see Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 260-7.
8
Thai chronicles mention the help from the Javanese, the Cham, the Japanese, and the
Mon. The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 363-4, 366-8. The Ship of Sulaiman (95) claims
that the Persians and ‘Mughals’ (probably Indian Muslims) made a significant contribu-
tion to Narai’s victory. Gervaise (158) mentioned Portuguese aid.
9
VOC 1219, Rapport Westerwolt, 16 Nov. 1656, fo. 805v.
10
This explains not only why foreign forces were needed in times of troubles but also
why foreign groups, who were allowed to be armed perhaps because they were maritime
traders, sometimes made a bold and almost successful attempt to attack the royal palace,
as did the Japanese during King Songtham’s reign in 1611-12, the Makassarese in 1686,
and the Chinese in 1733.
11
VOC 1216, Missive Westerwolt to Batavia, 16 Feb. 1656, fo. 394r-v.
12
VOC 1219, Rapport Westerwolt, 16 Nov. 1656, fo. 810v.
13
Ibid., fo. 824v.
14
VOC 1223, Missive Van Rijck to Batavia, 8 Jan. 1657, fo. 787v.
15
Ibid., fos. 793v-795r.
16
No Dutch report is available on the Makassarese uprising. The Makassarese plotted
to replace King Narai with one of his brothers who was supposed to embrace Islam but
failed to do so. For an analysis of the event, see Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 405-
10; Van der Cruysse, Siam and the West, 396-401; Michael Smithies, ‘Accounts of the
Makassar Revolt, 1686’, JSS 90/1&2 (2003), 73-100.
17
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 326.
18
Ibid. 290; VOC 1236, Missive Van Rijck to Batavia, 25 Feb. 1661, fo. 145.
19
VOC 1290, Rapport Nicolaas de Roij, 20 Nov. 1672, fo. 245r.
20
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 326.
21
VOC 1219, Rapport Westerwolt, 16 Nov. 1656, fo. 813v.
22
For a detailed study of King Narai’s war efforts, see Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong
Dynasty’, “Chapter 5: Expansion and Conflicts, 1658-1672”, 284-319.
23
VOC 1278, Missive N. de Roij to Batavia, 20 Oct. 1670, fos. 1876r-1879r. For the
tin trade at Phuket, see Dhiravat, ‘Towards a History of Seventeenth-Century Phuket’.
24
Generale missiven, III: 1655-1674, 31 Jan. 1673, 869; Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong
Dynasty’, 312-13.
25
VOC 1278, Missive N. de Roij to Batavia, 20 Oct. 1670, fos. 1876r-1879r.
26
Dhiravat, ‘Crown Trade and Court Politics’, 140.
27
VOC 1278, Missive N. de Roij to Batavia, 20 Oct. 1670, fo. 1880r.
28
VOC 1290, Rapport N. de Roij, 20 Nov. 1672, fo. 258r. Aqa Muhammad was orig-
inally from Astarabad. About this person, see Ibn Muhammad Ibrahim, The Ship of
Sulaiman, 98-103; Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 326-7.
29
VOC 1339, Instructie Dirk de Jongh aan Aernout Faa [Instructions by Dirk De
Jongh to Aarnout Faa], 10 Dec. 1678, fo. 476r-v.
30
De Bèze, 1688 Revolution in Siam, 10-16.
 TO CHAPTER FIVE 245
31
VOC 1386, Missive Faa to Batavia, 10 Jan. 1684, fos. 652v-653r.
32
VOC 1175, Rapport Van Goens, 8 Jan. 1650, fo. 348v.
33
A short but detailed study of this subject is Dhiravat na Pombejra, ‘Okya Sombatti-
ban and the VOC, c. 1648-1656’, in id., Court, Company and Campong, 9-24, esp. 21.
34
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 290; Generale missiven, III: 1655-1674, 26 Jan.
1660, 327-8.
35
VOC 1219, Rapport Westerwolt, 16 Nov. 1656, fos. 812r-v, 813v.
36
Nidhi, kanmuang thai samai phra narai, 24-53.
37
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 350-3.
38
The Société des Missions Étrangères was founded in 1659 under the auspices of the
French Church and with the Pope’s sanction with the primary purpose of training indige-
nous clergy in East Asia (the southern and north-eastern provinces of China and the sta-
tes of so-called ‘Further India’, namely Korea, Laos, Cochin China, Tonkin, and Annam).
Up till then, the Archbishopric of Goa (first established in 1534) had been claiming,
under the terms of the Padroado real (royal patronage system), exclusive jurisdiction over
all priests working in Asia; this in effect subverted the papal authority. The post-
Reformation papacy, which also aimed at promoting Christian missions overseas (in
which the Portuguese patronage had not been successful), created in 1622 the Propaganda
Fide (Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith) to co-ordinate missionary
work around the world and to end the national patronage system and develop indigenous
churches answering directly to Rome.
39
For a discussion about the strategy and the mistakes of the Missions Étrangères in
Ayutthaya, see Ronald S. Love, ‘Monarchs, Merchants, and Missionaries in Early Modern
Asia: The Missions Étrangères in Siam, 1662-1684’, The International History Review,
XXI/1 (March 1999), 1-27, esp. 9-10, 11-12.
40
Ten Brummelhuis, Merchant, Courtier and Diplomat, 10.
41
VOC 1219, Rapport Westerwolt, 16 Nov. 1656, fos. 827v-828r.
42
VOC 1304, Missive Johannes van der Spijck to Batavia, 5 Aug. & 20 Nov. 1674, fo.
22r; VOC 1311, Missive Van der Spijck to Batavia, 10 Dec. 1674, fo. 297; VOC 1314,
Missive Van der Spijck to Batavia, 30 Nov. 1675, fo. 14v.
43
There are several, but unsatisfactory, biographies of Constantine Phaulkon. For com-
ments on this point and a short survey of Phaulkon’s life and career, see Van der Cruysse,
Siam and the West, ‘Chapter 3: Phaulkon, the Greek Favourite’, 193-204.
44
Ibid. 201.
45
VOC 1415, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 17 Dec. 1685, fos. 909v-910r.
46
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 348-9; for an analysis of Phaulkon’s intermedi-
ary function, see Jurrien van Goor, ‘Merchants in Royal Service: Constant Phaulkon as
Phraklang in Ayutthaya, 1683-1688’, in Roderich Ptak and Dietmar Rothermund (eds.),
Emporia, Commodities and Entrepreneurs in Asian Maritime Trade, c. 1400-1750 (Stutt-
gart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1991), 445-65.
47
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 357-8; De Bèze, 1688 Revolution in Siam, 17;
VOC 1386, Missive Faa to Batavia, 10 Jan. 1684, fos. 652v-653r. Okya Wang’s father had
been an interpreter for the Dutch.
48
VOC 1377, Missive Faa to Batavia, 27 Jan. 1682, fo. 528v.
49
VOC 1407, Memorie Faa zaliger aan Keijts [Memorandum from the late Faa to
Keijts], 15 Jan. 1685, fo. 3218r.
50
Van Goor, ‘Merchants in Royal Service’, 458.
51
VOC 1386, Missive Faa to Batavia, 10 Jan. 1684, fos. 658v-659r. Charles II sent
Phaulkon an autograph letter acknowledging the presents. See Hutchinson, Adventurers in
Siam, 127.
52
For this episode, see Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 410-16.
53
Ibn Muhammad Ibrahim, The Ship of Sulaiman, 98-9.
54
VOC 1415, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 17 Dec. 1685, fo. 909r; Generale missiven, IV:
1675-1685, 18 Mar. 1685, 786.
55
VOC 1415, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 17 Dec. 1685, fo. 916r. De Choisy described
the first celebration, on 1 November 1685, as being accompanied by Siamese, Chinese
and Peguan performances, and that the second event, on 4 and 5 November 1685, had a
246 NOTES

fireworks display. De Choisy, Journal of a Voyage to Siam, 178, 180-1.

56
Claude Count de Forbin and six Jesuits came to Siam with the first French embassy
to King Narai’s court under the leadership of the Chevalier De Chaumont in 1685.
57
See Van der Cruysse, Siam and the West, 224-8.
58
VOC 1415, Rapport Keijts, 6 Feb. 1686, fos. 932v-933r.
59
VOC 1320, Brieffie [Letter] Van der Spijk to Batavia, 21 Jan. 1676, fo. 311r.
60
NA 1330, Missive De Jongh to Batavia, 20 Dec. 1677, fo. 688r.
61
VOC 1415, Rapport Keijts, 6 Feb. 1686, fo. 934r.
62
Van der Cruysse, Siam and the West, 267.
63
VOC 1415, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 17 Dec. 1685, fo. 910r.
64
VOC 1438, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 26 Jan. 1687, fos. 643r-v, 648r.
65
VOC 1415, Rapport Keijts, 6 Feb. 1685, fos. 932v-933r.
66
See Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 393-4.
67
VOC 1440, Keijts to Batavia, 23 Nov. 1687, fos. 2259r-2261r.
68
Claude de Forbin, The Siamese Memoirs of Count Claude de Forbin, 1685-1688, ed.
Michael Smithies (Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books, 1996), 77, 143.
69
VOC 1438, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 26 Jan. 1687, fos. 646v-647r.
70
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 305.
71
VOC 1253, Missive Enoch Poolvoet to Batavia, 26 Oct. 1665, fos. 1833-5.
72
VOC 1278, Missive N. de Roij to Batavia, 20 Oct. 1670, fo. 1883v.
73
VOC 1290, Rapport N. de Roij, 20 Nov. 1672, fo. 254r.
74
Sarasin Viraphol, Tribute and Profit: Sino-Siamese Trade, 1652-1853 (Cambridge,
Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1977), 28-57; Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’,
306.
75
VOC 1311, Missive Van der Spijck to Batavia, 10 Dec. 1674, fo. 304r.
76
VOC 1240, Rapport Van Rijck, 3 Nov. 1662, fo. 1489r-v.
77
VOC 1236, Missive Van Rijck, 7 & 10 Oct. 1661, fos. 674-7.
78
VOC 1240, Rapport Van Rijck, 3 Nov. 1662, fos. 1499r-1501r. The VOC had estab-
lished a trading office in Sukadana as early as 1617, only to see it destroyed by troops from
Mataram five years later.
79
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 367-9; VOC 1377, Missive Faa to Batavia,
27 Jan. 1682, fo. 528v.
80
For an analysis of the Dutch-Siamese frictions in the 1680s, see Dhiravat, ‘The
Prasatthong Dynasty’, 367-71, 388-90.
81
For the Siamese embassy to Portugal, see Michael Smithies and Dhiravat na Pombejra,
‘Instructions given to the Siamese Envoys sent to Portugal, 1684’, JSS 90/1&2 (2002),
125-35. For the exchange of embassies between Siam and France, see Van der Cruysse,
Siamese and the West. For the Persian embassy to King Narai, see M. Ismail Marcinkowski,
‘A Unique Source in Persian: The Ship of Sulaiman’, in id., From Isfahan to Ayutthaya:
Contacts between Iran and Siam in the 17th Century (Pustaka Nasional: Singapore, 2005),
18-43. Another mission which has been well researched is the Siamese embassy to the
Vatican which arrived there only after Narai’s death. See Michael Smithies and Luigi
Bressan, Siam and the Vatican in the Seventeenth Century (River Books: Bangkok, 2001).
82
Smithies and Dhiravat, ‘Instructions given to the Siamese Envoys sent to Portugal,
1684’, 133.
83
VOC 1453, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 5 Dec. 1688, fo. 247v.
84
VOC 1415, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 17 Dec. 1685, fos. 896r-897v.
85
VOC 1314, Missive Van der Spijck to Batavia, 30 Nov. 1675, fos. 11r, 14r-v.
86
Love, ‘Monarchs, Merchants, and Missionaries’, 15, 18.
87
De Choisy, Journal of Voyage to Siam, 154.
88
Ibn Muhammad Ibrahim, The Ship of Sulaiman, 44-5.
89
De Chaumont, Embassy to Siam, 43; De Choisy, Journal of Voyage to Siam, 155, 197.
90
The scenes of delivering the state missives from Persia and France are described by Ibn
Muhammad Ibrahim, The Ship of Sulaiman, 60-1, 63-4; De Choisy, Journal of Voyage to
Siam, 157-8, 161; De Chaumont, Embassy to Siam, 47-51.
91
Ibn Muhammad Ibrahim, The Ship of Sulaiman, 60; De Choisy, Journal of Voyage to
Siam, 154.
 TO CHAPTER FIVE 247
92
De Chaumont, Embassy to Siam, 51.
93
Ibid. 79.
94
Marcinkowski, ‘The Ship of Sulaiman’, 28.
95
Ibn Muhammad Ibrahim, The Ship of Sulaiman, 68, 77-8, 94, 95, 99-100.
96
Ibid. 59.
97
John E. Wills, Embassies and Illusions: Dutch and Portuguese Envoys to K’ang-hsi, 1666-
1687 (Cambridge, Mass.: Council on East Asian Studies, Harvard University, 1984), 176.
98
De Choisy, Journal of Voyage to Siam, 201.
99
VOC 1438, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 26 Jan. 1687, fos. 652v-653r; Dhiravat, ‘The
Prasatthong Dynasty’, 386-7.
100
VOC 1415, Rapport Keijts, 6 Feb. 1686, fo. 934r.
101
Van Goor, ‘Merchants as diplomats’, 40.
102
VOC 1415, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 17 Dec. 1685, fos. 917r-v, 918r.
103
VOC 1440, Keijts to Batavia, 23 Nov. 1687, fos. 2258r-2259r.
104
VOC 1415, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 17 Dec. 1685, fo. 918v; Dhiravat, ‘The
Prasatthong Dynasty’, 396-8.
105
VOC 1216, Missive Westerwolt to Batavia, 16 Feb. 1656, fo. 394r-v. Dhiravat, ‘The
Prasatthong Dynasty’, 256.
106
VOC 1362, Missive Faa to Batavia, 17 Nov. 1680, fo. 940v; VOC 1362, Translaet
missive in’t Maleys geschreven door den koning van Siam aen Haer Eds., ontfangen tot
Batavia den 4 februari anno 1681 [Translation of a Malay letter written by [the
Phrakhlang in the name of ] the King of Siam to Their Honours, received in Batavia on
4 February 1681], fo. 993v.
107
VOC 1453, Eijsch van diverse benodigheden voor den Siamsen majesteijt [List of
various items required for the Siamese King], 18 Jan. 1688, fo. 236v.
108
VOC 1304, Missive Van der Spijck to Batavia, 5 Aug. 1674, fos.16-23, 20v-21r.
109
VOC 1407, Memorie Faa zaliger aan Keijts, 15 Jan. 1685, fo. 3214r.
110
VOC 1330, Missive De Jongh to Batavia, 20 Dec. 1677, fo. 690r.
111
VOC 1227, Missive Van Rijck and Poolvoet to Batavia, 18 Dec. 1657, fo. 434r-v.
112
VOC 1350, Missive Faa to Batavia, 18 Jan. 1679, f. 441.
113
VOC 1440, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 1 Nov. 1687, fo. 2227r-v.
114
Ibid.
115
VOC 1438, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 20 Jan. 1687, fos. 641v-642r.
116
VOC 1339, Missive Faa to Batavia, 13 Nov. 1678, fos. 444r-455r, 450r, 454r-v; VOC
1362, Missive Faa to Batavia, 17 Nov. 1680, fo. 940v.
117
VOC 1438, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 20 Jan. 1687, fo. 651v.
118
VOC 1253, Missive Poolvoet to Batavia, 22 Dec. 1665, fo. 1986.
119
VOC 1438, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 26 Jan. 1687, fo. 647v.
120
Van der Cruysse, Siam and the West, 420.
121
VOC 1362, Missive Faa to Batavia, 17 Nov. 1680, fo. 940v.
122
VOC 1438, Brieven van den coningh van Siam en Oija Berquelangh geschreven aan
haar Edelen [Letters from the King of Siam and Okya Phrakhlang [written by Okya
Phrasadet in place of the Phrakhlang] to Their Honours in Batavia], 1687, fo. 656r.
123
VOC 1386, Missive Faa to Batavia, 10 Jan. 1684, fos. 658v-659r. Phaulkon also
offered his services to the French envoys to procure Asian curiosities for Louis XIV. De
Choisy, Journal of Voyage to Siam, 209.
124
VOC 1438, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 26 Jan. 1687, fos. 646v-647r.
125
Simon de la Loubère, A New Historical Relation of the Kingdom of Siam, ed. David K.
Wyatt (Singapore: Oxford University Press, 1986), 99-100.
126
De Choisy, Journal of Voyage to Siam, 195.
127
VOC 1322, Missive De Jongh to Batavia, 26 Dec. 1676, fo. 1213v; Dhiravat, ‘The
Prasatthong Dynasty’, 325-6; Dhiravat, Siamese Court Life, 101.
128
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 277.
129
VOC 1415, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 17 Dec. 1685, fos. 918v, 916r.
130
De Choisy, Journal of Voyage to Siam, 180.
131
VOC 1415, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 17 Dec. 1685, fos. 918v, 916r.
132
La Loubère, Relation of the Kingdom of Siam, 99-100.
248 NOTES

133
VOC 1362, Missive Faa to Batavia, 17 Nov. 1680, fo. 960v.
134
Ian Hodges, ‘Time in Transition: King Narai and the Luang Prasoet Chronicle of
Ayutthaya’, JSS 87/1&2 (1999), 33-44, esp. 35-6.
135
VOC 1415, Korte aenteeckeningen van’t gewesen opperhooft Faa [Brief notes from
former Opperhoofd Faa], 17 Jan. 1685, fo. 887r-v; Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’,
396-7.
136
The traditional form of time-measurement was to establish a system of time-keeping
from the regular motions of the planets by astrologers.
137
Van der Cruysse, Siam and the West, 255-60.
138
Michael Smithies, ‘Eclipses in Siam, 1685 and 1688, and Their Representation’, JSS
91 (2003), 189-204.

Notes to Chapter Six

1
Hutchinson, Adventurers in Siam, 192-3.
2
Wyatt, Thailand, 117.
3
Dhiravat, ‘Shift to Isolation?’; Raben, ‘King Phetracha’.
4
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 452-3; id., ‘Shift to Isolation?’, 252.
5
Raben, ‘King Phetracha’, 16.
6
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, “Chapter 8: 1686-1688, The End of the
Prasatthong Dynasty”, 405-53; Van der Cruysse, Siam and the West, ‘Chapter 20: The
Revolution in Siam (1688)’, 427-67.
7
The original report is in VOC 1444, Beknopt verhaal van de wonderlyke verandering
voorgevallen in het koninkryke Siam desen jare 1688 [Concise story of the astounding
change occurred in the Kingdom of Siam this year 1688], 30 Nov. 1688, fos. 1639-1651.
It was first published under the same title in 1689 (Amsterdam: Aert Dircksz. Oossaen),
then as Kort-bondig verhaal van den op en ondergang, van d’heer Faulkon, ridder der ordre
van St. Michiel, en voornaam gunsteling des konings van Siam: mitsgaders van de dood des
konings, en ’t verdrijven der Franschen uit dat Rijk, alles kort op den anderen gevolgd, binnen
’t jaar 1688 en in Indiën zelve t’zamen gesteld (Amsterdam: Gerardus Borstius, 1690). It
was also published in Valentyn, Oud en nieuw Oost-Indië, 3, 1, 80-9. Based on a French
version, the English translation ‘Succinct Account of What Occurred in the Kingdom of
Siam in the Year 1688’ appears in Michael Smithies (ed. and tr.), Witnesses to a Revolution:
Siam 1688 (Bangkok: The Siam Society, 2004), 124-34. (Hereafter: ‘Succinct Account
1688’.) All references are from this edition.
8
Sources mentioning the backgrounds of Phetracha and Sorasak are The Royal
Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 300-1, 308-14; La Loubère, The Kingdom of Siam, 99; Claude de
Bèze, 1688 Revolution in Siam: The Memoir of Father de Bèze, s.j., tr. with commentary by
E. W. Hutchinson (repr., Bangkok: White Lotus, 2002), 58-62.
9
VOC 1453, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 5 Dec. 1688, fo. 240r.
10
‘Succinct Account 1688’, 125.
11
VOC 1453, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 5 Dec. 1688, fo. 247r.
12
Ibid., fo. 247v. Keijts noted that this was the title according to the instruction for the
Thai Ambassador to the King of Portugal in 1684.
13
VOC 1453, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 5 Dec. 1688, fo. 247v. See also Anonymous,
‘Relation of the Principal Circumstances Which Occurred in the Revolution in the
Kingdom of Siam’, in Smithies (ed.), Witnesses to a Revolution, 5-34, esp. 13. The author
claimed that King Narai declared his daughter Queen, and whichever uncle she were to
marry would succeed him.
14
VOC 1453, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 5 Dec. 1688, fo. 250r.
15
Ibid., fo. 250r-v.
16
Ibid., fo. 247r.
17
‘Succinct Account 1688’, 132. This was the first time that the Dutch mentioned the
Siamese court seizing Eurasian children as a means to punish the Europeans in Ayutthaya.
I cannot confirm that this was the first time in Ayutthaya’s history and that it was
Phetracha’s innovation. In the course of the eighteenth century, the Dutch were to face
 TO CHAPTER SIX 249

this punitive measure a few times. It is not impossible that Keijts attempted to save these
mestizo children, not just for the sake of humanity, because the VOC was usually anxious
about guarding Eurasian children from local influence: being brought up with the ‘hea-
then’ belief. Despite the rivalry between the European nations, the Europeans in Asia
shared a common identity in the Christian faith which distinguished them from the Asian
adherents of indigenous religions.
18
Ibid. 129.
19
Ibid. 130.
20
Jean Rival, ‘Deposition Made on 18 July 1688 (by Coun Rot?) Living in Ligor, Sent
on 25 September 1691’, in Smithies (ed.), Witnesses to a Revolution, 169-75, esp. 171.
Smithies considers the deposition an unsupported concoction of Rival, the French
Governor of Takuapa (nearby Phuket) during King Narai’s reign. Brochebourde, being a
French Huguenot and working for the Dutch, must have been regarded as a traitor and
hated by the French.
21
Anonymous, ‘An Account of What Occurred in Louvo in the Kingdom of Siam, and
a Summary of What Occurred in Bangkok during the Siege in 1688’, in Smithies (ed.),
Witnesses to a Revolution, 94-123, esp. 108.
22
VOC 1453, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 5 Dec. 1688, fo. 247r.
23
‘Succinct Account 1688’, 132.
24
The English subjects imprisoned as a result of the war between Siam and the EIC in
1687 were released during the coronation of King Phetracha as an act of merit performed
on an auspicious occasion. Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’, 34.
25
The original text of the treaty signed on 14 November 1688 appears in Corpus
Diplomaticum, III, 473-9.
26
VOC 1456, Rapport Keijts, 14 Feb. 1689, fos. 1998r, 1999v, 2001r-2002r.
27
VOC 1456, Missive Van den Hoorn to Batavia, 10 Jan. 1689, fo. 1963v.
28
VOC 1456, Translaet Maleijts missive van den Coningh in Siam aen haer hoogh Eds.
tot Batavia [Translation of a Malay letter from [the Phrakhlang in the name of ] the King
of Siam to Their Honours in Batavia], 10 Feb. 1689, fos. 1964v-1965v.
29
Desfarges and his force sailed from Pondicherry to Phuket hoping to intimidate the
Thai into compensating the French losses with tin. Achieving nothing, he finally with-
drew and released the Thai hostages taken during the French withdrawal from Ayutthaya
in 1688. Michael Smithies doubts whether Desfarges ever reached Phuket. Michael
Smithies, A Resounding Failure: Martin and the French in Siam, 1672-1693 (Chiang Mai:
Silkworm Books, 1998), 122. But according to the Dutch, King Phetracha was informed
that the French ships had appeared off the island.
30
VOC 1458, Dagregister Van den Hoorn, 20 Aug. 1689, fos. 593v-594r.
31
Ibid., 27 & 28 Sept. 1689, fo. 622r-v; 2 Dec. 1689, fo. 638r-v.
32
Ibid., 3 Feb. 1689, fo. 480r.
33
Ten Brummelhuis has mistakenly attributed the following list of goods for 1688 to
King Phetracha: a smith’s bellows, Hindustani medicines, Dutch painted tiles, Persian
wine, various Dutch foodstuffs, and the like. Ten Brummelhuis, Merchant, Courtier and
Diplomat, 41. The order was made sometime in the last months of King Narai’s reign. See
VOC 1453, Missive van den Oja Berquelangh tot Siam [Letter from Okya Phrakhlang in
Siam], 18 Jan. 1688, fo. 236r-v.
34
VOC 1456, Rapport Keijts, 14 Feb. 1689, fo. 2002v.
35
For example, VOC 1580, Memorie der geschenken welke geoordeelt wierden den
coning en Oija Berquelangh voor den jaare 1696 te zullen aengenaam sijn [List of gifts
which were considered agreeable for the King and Okya Phrakhlang for the year 1696],
fos. 49-51; Missive Thomas van Son to Batavia, 17 Feb. 1697, fo. 267; Generale missiven,
V: 1686-1697, 27 Dec. 1688, 217; Ten Brummelhuis, Merchant, Courtier and Diplomat,
41.
36
VOC 1458, Dagregister Van den Hoorn, 26 Aug. 1689, fo. 601r.
37
Dhiravat, ‘Shift to Isolation’, 44-5; see also Chapter One, 22.
38
Raben, ‘King Phetracha’, 3.
39
Smithies, A Resounding Failure, 134-6, 136 (citation).
40
For Tachard’s last mission to Siam, see Hutchinson, Adventurers in Siam, 182-4; Van
250 NOTES

der Cruysse, Siam and the West, 472-4; Michael Smithies, ‘Tachard’s Last Appearance in
Ayutthaya, 1699’, JRAS Series 3, 12/1 (2002), 67-78. The Dutch heard that the priest
requested, in the name of his King, that the French be allowed to build a fort in
Tenasserim and a factory in Phetburi as King Narai had promised. Instead the Siamese
court demanded that the French pay their debts before they be allowed to re-establish a
lodge in Siam. VOC 1623, Missive Tant to Batavia, 24 Dec. 1699, fo. 3.
41
VOC 1623, Missive Tant to Batavia, 6 Jan. 1699, fos. 8-9; 25 Jan. 1699, fo. 27; 25
Dec. 1699, fos. 38-9.
42
See also Chapter Two, 52-3.
43
VOC 1676, Missive Tant to Batavia, 29 Jan. 1703, fo. 39. This minister replaced
Okya Mamath (Maha Amath), the favourite and distant relative of the King.
44
VOC 1623, Missive Tant to Batavia, 6 Jan. 1699, fo. 6.
45
Ibid., fos. 12, 27.
46
VOC 1458, Dagregister Van den Hoorn, 11 Jan.-31 Oct. 1689.
47
Ibid., 19 Mar. 1689, fo. 506r.
48
The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 326-7.
49
VOC 1458, Dagregister Van den Hoorn, 4 Mar. 1689, fos. 500v-501r, 24 & 25 Apr.
1689, fos. 533v-534r.
50
Ibid., 25 Apr. 1689, fos. 534v-535v.
51
The Thai chronicles state that many districts in Saraburi and Lopburi were deserted
because those implicated in the uprising fled into the jungle for fear of punishment. The
Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 327.
52
VOC 1458, Dagregister Van den Hoorn, 28 Apr. 1689, fos. 535v-537r; 30 Apr. 1689,
fos. 537v-538r.
53
Ibid., 4 May 1689, fos. 540v-541r.
54
Ibid., 4 June 1689, fo. 559v. Kaempfer certainly based his short description of this
event, which occurred before his visit to Ayutthaya in 1690, on Van den Hoorn’s experi-
ence. Engelbert Kaempfer, A Description of the Kingdom of Siam 1690 (Bangkok: Orchid
Press, 1998), 37.
55
VOC 1458, Dagregister Van den Hoorn, 12 Mar. 1689, fos. 502v-503r; 23 May
1689, fo. 553v.
56
Ibid., 12 June 1689, fo. 563v.
57
Ibid., 28 Jan. 1689, fo. 475v; 16 Feb. 1689, fo. 489v.
58
Ibid., 3 May 1689, fo. 540r-v.
59
Ibid., 27 Aug. 1689, fo. 601r.
60
Dhiravat, ‘The Prasatthong Dynasty’, 450-1; Kaempfer, A Description of the Kingdom
of Siam, 23-4.
61
Kaempfer, A Description of the Kingdom of Siam, 38.
62
VOC 1456, Rapport Keijts, 14 Feb. 1689, fo. 2002v; VOC 1458, Dagregister Van
den Hoorn, 29 Jan. 1689, fo. 477v; 14 &15 Jan. 1689, fo. 462r.
63
VOC 1498, Missive Van den Hoorn to Batavia, 5 Nov. 1691, fos. 263r-265r, 273r-v.
64
For example, Opperhoofd Cleur recommended handing in a petition to King Süa en
passant to complain about the behaviour of the Phrakhlang. VOC 1728, Berigt van Cleur,
6 juni 1705-3 februari 1706 [Report by Cleur, 6 June 1705-3 February 1706], 12 June
1706, fo. 132.
65
For example, in 1692, King Phetracha fitted out four junks to Japan, one to Canton,
and one to Batavia. See Raben, ‘King Phetracha’, 12.
66
VOC 1536, Missive Thomas van Son to Batavia, 27 Nov. 1693, fo. 107v. It is not
clear which ‘treason and conspiracy’ Van Son meant here.
67
VOC 1517, Missive Van Son to Batavia, 13 Dec. 1692, fos. 356r-361v, 364r.
68
VOC 1536, Missive Van Son to Batavia, 27 Nov. 1693, fo. 107r-v.
69
In 1688, Keijts reported that Cambodia had asked naval assistance of Ayutthaya
(probably also to fight against the pirates) but the Siamese court refused, because
Phaulkon, even after his death, left as his legacy a policy of keeping Cambodia weak. De
Choisy also mentioned that King Narai had discussed the Cambodian problem with
Phaulkon. Undoubtedly, this policy had always been part of Ayutthaya-Cambodia rela-
tions. VOC 1453, Missive Keijts to Batavia, 5 Dec. 1688, fo. 251v; Choisy, Journal of a
 TO CHAPTER SIX 251

Voyage to Siam, 205.

70
Ayutthaya’s royal chronicles mention only that King Phetracha sent some officials to
collect the albino elephant which Cambodia had found and offered to him and not that
the animal became a part of a political game between the two states. The Royal Chronicles
of Ayutthaya, 325-6, 357-8.
71
VOC 1609, Eenige agter een geschreven extracten uijt het dagregister gehouden in
Siam in de maend dec. 1697 en jan. 1698 raeckende den oorlog tusschen de Siammers en
die van Cambodia [Something according to a written extract from the journal notes kept
in Siam in the months of December 1697 and January 1698 regarding the war between
the Siamese and the Cambodians], Reinier Boom, 1 & 2 Jan. 1698, fos. 5-7; Missive
Boom to Batavia, 5 Dec. 1698, fo. 12.
72
VOC 1609, Missive Boom to Batavia, 5 Dec. 1698, fo. 22.
73
The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 358-60.
74
VOC 1637, Missive Tant to Batavia, 17 Jan. 1700, fo. 12.
75
Ibid., fos. 8-9.
76
VOC 1623, Missive Tant to Batavia, 20 Dec. 1699, Appendix, 25 Dec.1699, fo. 67.
French sources describe King Phetracha as the shaper and manipulator of the events. He
was thought to have used the unrest as an excuse to eliminate the old khunnang group,
which he considered to pose a threat to his chosen heir, Phra Khwan. It can be said that
the Dutch saw the Nakhon Ratchasima rebellion as the cause and the French considered
it a pretext for a purge of the leading officials. For a comparison of Dutch and French
sources regarding the purge of 1699, see Dhiravat na Pombejra, ‘Dutch and French
Evidence Concerning Court Conflicts at the End of King Phetracha’s Reign, c. 1699-
1703’, Silpakorn University International Journal, 2/1 (Jan.-June 2002), 47-70.
77
VOC 1623, Missive Tant to Batavia, 20 Dec. 1699, fo. 62.
78
VOC 1609, Missive Boom to Batavia, 5 Dec. 1698, fo. 23.
79
M. C. Ricklefs, The Seen and Unseen Worlds in Java, 1726-49 (Honolulu: University
of Hawaii Press, 1998), 8; Clara Brakel-Papenhuijzen, The bedhaya Court Dances of
Central Java (Leiden: Brill, 1992).
80
VOC 1676, Missive Tant to Batavia, 29 Jan. 1703, fos. 61, 63. As was his father,
Sorasak, when ruling as King Süa, was very much interested in exotic performance art. In
1705 his court asked the VOC for fifteen to twenty ‘caffers’ (black slaves from Eastern
Africa) who could play the trumpet. When Batavia answered that they had none, the
Siamese claimed that there used to be one or two in the Company lodge at Ayutthaya.
They even wanted to borrow one of these men to train young musicians at court. VOC
1711, Translaat Maleitse Missive van den Phrakhlang aan Haar Eds. de Hoge Regering tot
Batavia [Translation of a Malay letter from the Phrakhlang to Their Honours the High
Government in Batavia], received 25 Nov. 1705, fos. 114-15.
81
VOC 1637, Missive Tant to Batavia, 16 Nov. 1700, fo. 26v.
82
Generale missiven, VI: 1698-1713, 17 Feb. 1701, 152.
83
VOC 1623, Missive Tant to Batavia, 25 Dec. 1699, fos. 39-40, 56. A French source
dates his death to mid-1700. See Dirk van der Cruysse, ‘Introduction’, in id. (ed.), The
Diary of Kosa Pan: Thai Ambassador to France June-July 1686 (Chiang Mai: Silkworm
Books, 2002), 1-26, esp. 25.
84
VOC 1637, Missive Tant to Batavia, 17 Jan. 1700, fo. 12.
85
VOC 1648, Missive Tant to Batavia, 28 Dec. 1700, fo. 24. Tant wrote that Okya
Maha Amath replaced Chao Phraya Thammasena, who had served in this post for nine
months (after Kosa Pan) before being dismissed on account of his old age.
86
VOC 1637, Missive Tant to Batavia, 16 Nov. 1700, fo. 26v; 28 Dec. 1700, fo. 29v.
87
Raben, ‘King Phetracha’, 12.
88
VOC 1637, Missive Tant to Batavia, 28 Dec. 1700, fo. 59r.
89
VOC 1648, Missive Tant to Batavia, 24 Nov. 1700, fo. 17.
90
Ibid., 4 Feb. 1701, fos. 104, 109.
91
VOC 1623, Missive Tant to Batavia, 20 Dec. 1699, Appendix, 25 Dec. 1699, fo. 67.
92
VOC 1637, Missive Tant to Batavia, 28 Dec. 1700, fo. 60v.
93
VOC 1676, Missive Tant to Batavia, 29 Jan. 1703, fos. 58-9.
94
Dhiravat, ‘Dutch and French Evidence’, 50.
252 NOTES

95
VOC 1676, Missive Tant to Batavia, 29 Jan. 1703, fo. 59.
96
Dhiravat, ‘Dutch and French Evidence’, 49.
97
Ibid. 55-6.
98
VOC 1580, Missive Van Son to Batavia, 27 Nov. 1696, fo. 204. Thai chronicles also
mention this preference of King Süa, besides other flaws in his character, such as cruelty
and excessive drinking. The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 391.
99
VOC 1609, Dagregister Boom, 4 Dec. 1697, fo. 4. During King Narai’s reign, a sis-
ter of the then Okphra Phetracha who was a royal consort had caused scandals because of
her recurrent ‘visits’ to the Portuguese camp. She eventually seduced Chaofa Noi, and
ruined both herself and him when their affair was exposed. She was condemned to death,
while he was handicapped as a result of a severe flogging, which was tantamount to polit-
ical assassination—he lost Narai’s favour and a chance to contend for the throne. De Bèze,
who mentioned this episode, believed that Chaofa Noi’s betrayal caused King Narai to
turn his attachment to Phra Pi. De Bèze, 1688 Revolution in Siam, 53-7.
100
VOC 1580, Missive Van Son to Batavia, 27 Nov. 1696, fos. 204-5.
101
VOC 1623, Missive Tant to Batavia, 25 Dec. 1699, fos. 61-3.
102
VOC 1676, Missive Tant to Batavia, 29 Jan. 1703, fo. 60. According to the Thai
chronicles, King Ong Wiet of Vientiane presented his fifteen-year-old daughter, Phra
Kaew Fa, to King Phetracha in gratitude for Ayutthaya’s aid against the attack from Luang
Prabang in 1701. The Princess, however, became one of Sorasak’s consorts. The Royal
Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 363-5.
103
VOC 1676, Missive Tant to Batavia, 29 Jan. 1703, fos. 59-60.
104
Ibid., 8 Feb. 1703, fos. 100-1.
105
VOC 1691, Relaas van ’t voorgevallene by de ziekte en overlyden van den Siamse
koning Phra Trong Than genaamt [Relation of What Occurred upon the Sickness and
Death of the Siamese King Named Phra Trong Than], (1703 or 1704), fos. 61-74.
106
Dhiravat, ‘Princes, Pretenders, and the Chinese Phrakhlang’, 107-30.
107
VOC 1676, Missive Tant to Batavia, 8 Feb. 1703, fos. 100-3.
108
De Chaumont, who visited the Ayutthayan court in 1685-6, wrote that Kromluang
Yothathep, or the ‘Princess-Queen’, exercised her own justice in her own household, and
that she was ‘inclinable [inclined] to great severities’. When her servants had been proved
guilty of great slanders, or revealing important secrets, she had their mouths sewn up.
Chaumont, Aspects of the Embassy to Siam 1685, 106-7.
109
This tale occurs only in Cleur’s ‘Relation’.
110
VOC 1676, Missive Tant to Batavia, 8 Feb. 1703, fo. 42. Some of the commercial
disputes during this period resulted from the differences between the Thai and Dutch ver-
sions of the 1688 Treaty concerning the clause about the tin trade. According to the
Dutch, the VOC had an exclusive right to tin and granted the Siamese King only what he
needed for daily use (constructing temples and buildings). The Thai text read that the
King owned all tin and only what he did not need was to be sold to the VOC exclusive-
ly. See Ten Brummelhuis, Merchant, Courtier and Diplomat, 45.
111
VOC 1711, Bericht van den oppercoopman en voormaels gewesen opperhooft in
Siam Gideon Tant aen haer Eds. de hoge regeringe tot Batavia overgelevert dato 20 Maert
1705, sprekende van den slechten toestant van Compagnies negotie aldaer, mitsgaders op
hoedanige wijse na sijn gevoelen sulx bij den vorst van dat rijk en desselfs hoge ministers
ten besten zouden kunnen werden verholpen [Report by Opperkoopman and former
Opperhoofd in Siam Gideon Tant delivered to Their Honours the High Government in
Batavia on 20 March 1705, speaking of the poor state of the Company’s business there,
and how according to him it could best be improved with the ruler of that kingdom and
his high ministers], fos. 15-17.
112
VOC 1728, Berigt aan den Governeur Generaal van ’t voorvallen in Siam, 6 juni
anno passado tot 3 februari jongstleden over ’t opbreeken van’t nederlants comptoir ... en
hoedanig die op de honorabelste wyse aldaar kan herstelt werden [Report to the Governor
General on the situation in Siam, 6 June last year [1705] to 3 February [1706] about the
closing of the Dutch comptoir ... and how it can be restored in the most honourable way],
Arnout Cleur, 7 May 1706, fo. 116.
113
VOC 1728, Jan van Velsen to Batavia, 17 Mar. 1706, fos. 39-41.
 TO CHAPTER SEVEN 253
114
Ibid., fos. 11-12.
115
Ibid., fos. 42-6. See also Chapter Two, 53.
116
Ibid., fos. 58-9.
117
VOC 1759, Missive Phrakhlang to Batavia, (1707 or 1708), fo. 29.
118
Generale missiven, VI: 1698-1713, 31 Mar. 1706, 392, 406.
119
In 1691, King Phetracha employed a Christian native of Siam, Vincent Pinheiro, as
his envoy to visit the French in Pondicherry. In 1706, King Süa appointed a local
Portuguese, Jan Domingos de Matto, as envoy to negotiate with the English in Madras.
VOC 1719, Missive Cleur to Batavia, 22 Oct. 1706, fo. 1837. The descendants of Daniel
Brochebourde also remained in royal service.
120
VOC 1776, Missive Cleur to Batavia, 29 Jan. 1709, fo. 9. Cleur was one of the
Opperhoofden who enjoyed the court’s favour. When he died in early 1712, some impor-
tant officials were sent to attend his funeral. VOC 1827, Missive Willem de Bevere to
Batavia, 25 Feb. 1712, fo. 17-18.

Notes to Chapter Seven

1
Wyatt, Thailand, 129. The social and political organization, including the pattern of
monarchy and royal traditions, developed during the Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty was the
model for the first kings of the Bangkok Period. See Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang
Dynasty’, 9.
2
Wyatt, Thailand, 130-2.
3
The Thai chronicles report, for example, an accident with the elephant King Süa was
riding during an elephant-hunting trip in 1708, which aroused his suspicion that his sons,
Chaofa Phet and Chaofa Phon (later Kings Thaisa and Borommakot), might be plotting
against him. The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 386-9. French missionaries in Ayutthaya
also mentioned that the King placed little trust in his sons and often had them flogged.
Archives de la Société des Missions Étrangerés, De Cicé to Directors, Vol. 863, 6 Oct.
1703, 521, mentioned in Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’, 53.
4
The Dutch reported that the Phrakhlang was arrested on 12 October 1706 for having
given the annual gifts to the King’s cousin or nephew (referred to as neef in the report)
who had been apprehended for treason on 30 September. VOC 1743, Missive Aernout
Cleur to Batavia, 18 Feb. 1707, fo. 53. This was probably Phra Phichaisurin, who was a
nephew of King Phetracha and thus a cousin of King Süa. The Thai chronicles relate that
Phetracha was so upset by Sorasak’s killing of Phra Khwan that he named Phichaisurin his
successor. The latter, however, refused the throne and begged Sorasak to accept it. The
Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 377.
5
VOC 1827, Missive D. Blom and De Bevere to Batavia, 30 Dec. 1712, fo. 23; VOC
1841, Missive D. Blom to Batavia, 15 Dec. 1713, fo. 35; VOC 1841, Missive Phrakhlang
to Batavia, 1713, fos. 61-2.
6
VOC 1827, Missive De Bevere to Batavia, 25 Feb. 1712, fo. 19; Missive D. Blom and
De Bevere to Batavia, 30 Dec. 1712, fos. 18-19; VOC 1841, Missive D. Blom to Batavia,
15 Dec. 1713, fos. 35-6.
7
VOC 1862, Missive D. Blom to Batavia, 10 Dec. 1715, fo. 2390v; Generale missiven,
VII: 1713-1725, 19 Feb. 1716, 219; 23 Mar. 1717, 281.
8
VOC 1862, Missive D. Blom to Batavia, 10 Dec. 1715, fo. 2387v.
9
VOC 1926, Missive W. Blom to Batavia, 31 Jan. 1719, fos. 28-62. This document
includes details of the Spanish embassy (such as lists of the entourage and gifts), corre-
spondence between Ayutthaya and Manila, and the proposed contract by the Spanish, but
no description of how the embassy was received at court.
10
VOC 1883, Missive D. Blom to Batavia, 26 Jan. 1716, fos. 86-91. Blom gave some
details about how the ceremony was arranged and how the Dutch were excellently treat-
ed during this one-day feast.
11
VOC 1841, Missive D. Blom to Batavia, 30 Jan. 1714, fo. 50.
12
VOC 2239, Missive Pieter Sijen to Batavia, 25 Nov. 1732, fos. 40-1.
13
Ibid., fo. 43; Missive Sijen to Batavia, 31 Dec. 1732, fo. 9.
254 NOTES

14
VOC 2286, Missive Sijen to Batavia, 31 Jan. 1733, fos. 1-3; The Royal Chronicles of
Ayutthaya, 413, 416-8.
15
VOC 2286, Missive Sijen to Batavia, 31 Jan. 1733, fos. 1-3; 26 Feb. 1733, fo. 5;
30 Nov. 1733, fo. 41.
16
VOC 2286, Missive Sijen to Batavia, 31 Jan. 1733, fos. 1-4; 26 Feb. 1733, fos. 4-6;
30 Nov. 1733, fo. 41. See also Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’, 78-81; Raben
and Dhiravat, ‘Tipping Balances’, 67. A short account of the Chinese rebellion in 1734 is
given in The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 437-8. For the rise and fall of the Chinese
Phrakhlang, see Dhiravat, ‘Princes, Pretenders and the Chinese Phrakhlang’.
17
Wyatt, ‘King Borommakot’, 55; Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’, 283-7.
18
Raben and Dhiravat, ‘Tipping Balances’, 68.
19
Generale missiven, IX: 1729-1737, 8 Dec. 1732, 376; 1 Feb. 1733, 431; 31 Oct.
1733, 493.
20
VOC 2383, Missive Phrakhlang to Batavia, 19 Apr. 1736, fo. 201; VOC 2534,
Missive Phrakhlang to Batavia, received 2 June 1741, fo. 355.
21
VOC 2383, Missive Van den Heuvel to Batavia, 14 Jan. 1737, fo. 12.
22
VOC 2438, Missive Van den Heuvel to Batavia, 25 Jan. 1738, fos. 48-9.
23
VOC 2383, Missive Van den Heuvel to Batavia, 25 Jan. 1736, fo. 19. See also Raben
and Dhiravat, ‘Tipping Balances’, 68.
24
VOC 2383, Missive Van den Heuvel to Batavia, 25 Jan. 1736, fos. 37-8.
25
Ibid., fo. 19.
26
In 1746, a person called the ‘Eminent Som’ gathered people in Lopburi to rebel but
they were put down by some three hundred soldiers. The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya,
443.
27
Raben and Dhiravat, ‘Tipping Balances’, 68, 71, 72.
28
VOC 2383, Missive Van den Heuvel to Batavia, 25 Jan. 1736, fos. 20-5.
29
Ibid., 13 Jan. 1737, fos. 15-16.
30
Ibid., 14 Jan. 1737, fos. 7-9.
31
VOC 2438, Missive Meyboom to Van den Heuvel, 14 Feb. 1737, fos. 63-6.
32
VOC 2193, Dagregister Van Alderwereld, 17, 23 & 26 Apr. 1730, fos. 26-8.
33
Raben and Dhiravat, ‘Tipping Balances’, 63.
34
VOC 2410, Missive Van den Heuvel to Batavia, 20 Apr. 1737, fo. 7.
35
Theodorus Jacobus van den Heuvel, ‘A Journey to Phra Phutthabat, 1737’, tr. S. A.
W. Mottau and Remco Raben, in Raben and Dhiravat (eds.), In the King’s Trail, 11-41.
36
Van den Heuvel, ‘A Journey to Phra Phutthabat’, 16-17.
37
Ibid. 18.
38
Ibid. 20.
39
Ibid. 19-20, 24.
40
VOC 2193, Dagregister Van Alderwereld, 14 Oct. 1730, fos. 50-1; Adrien Launay,
Histoire de la mission de Siam, Documents historiques, II: 1696-1811 (repr., Paris:
Missions Étrangères de Paris, 2000), 129-31.
41
Van den Heuvel, ‘A Journey to Phra Phutthabat’, 30-1. On another occasion, in
1732, the Dutch reported that a rumour that the Buddha image at Wat Phananchoeng
was sweating blood had spread throughout the whole kingdom and had caused confusion
‘among these blind heathens, among the grandees as well as the commoners’. Opperhoofd
Pieter Sijen understood that the Siamese considered this phenomenon a bad omen. Yet,
he categorically rejected the idea as superstitious and explained it in scientific terms
instead. The Dutch believed that the ‘blood’ was the result of the brownish-red varnish
made from namrak which covered the Buddha’s statue (underneath the gold layer)
reacting with the water used in cleaning the image. Probably, it disturbed the Dutch
merchants even more that King Thaisa forbade any business transactions and ordered his
subjects to allocate their resources instead of worshipping the image, in the hope of im-
proving the fortune of the kingdom. VOC 2239, Dagregister Sijen, 16 Apr. 1732, fos. 33-
4. This journal has been published in paraphrase and partially translated in Dhiravat na
Pombejra, ‘The Last Year of King Thaisa’s Reign: Data Concerning Politics and Society
from the Dutch East India Company’s Siam Factory Dagregister for 1732’, in Vinai
Pongsripian (ed.), kwam yok yon kong adeet/The Wilderness of the Past (Bangkok: 1994),
 TO CHAPTER SEVEN 255

125-45.
42
VOC 2438, Dagregister Van den Heuvel, 28 & 29 Jan. 1738, fos. 502-9. Van den
Heuvel’s short report of this royal cremation should be read as a complement to the pas-
sage on the cremation of King Prasatthong’s daughter in February 1650 by Jan Struys.
Struys came to Ayutthaya in that year in the service of the VOC. Although some parts of
his account (first published in Dutch in 1676) regarding other aspects of Siam invite sus-
picion, his and Van den Heuvel’s descriptions of the royal cremations rather agree with
each other on several points. Struys emphasizes that people, especially women, were obli-
ged to express or even ‘feign’ their sorrow throughout the ceremony. Michael Smithies
(ed.), ‘The Perillous and most Unhappy Voyages of John Struys …, translated by John
Morrison, London 1683’, JSS 94 (2006), 177-209, esp. 196-8.
43
VOC 2438, Missive Van den Heuvel to Batavia, 25 Jan. 1738, fo. 49.
44
VOC 2410, Missive Van den Heuvel to Batavia, 25 Jan. 1738, fos. 9-13, fos. 18-23;
VOC 2438, Dagregister Van den Heuvel, 10 Nov. 1738, fo. 580; 14 Nov. 1738, fo. 581.
45
VOC 2534, Dagregister Willem de Ghij, 5 Sept. 1740, fos. 170-1; 13 Sept. 1740, fo.
176.
46
Ibid., 13 Dec. 1740, fo. 205; 31 Dec. 1740, fo. 210; 8 Jan. 1741, fo. 221.
47
Ibid., 29 Jan. 1741, fo. 227; 10 Feb. 1741, fos. 251-3; 11 Feb. 1741, fo. 258.
48
Ibid., 11 Feb. 1741, fos. 253-7.
49
Ibid., 12 Feb. 1741, fos. 263-4.
50
Realia: Register op de generale resolutiën van het Kasteel Batavia, 1632-1805 (The
Hague: Nijhoff, 1886), III, 204.
51
Van den Heuvel, ‘A Journey to Phra Phutthabat’, 13.
52
VOC 2438, Missive Van den Heuvel to Batavia, 25 Jan. 1738, fos. 45-7.
53
Van den Heuvel, ‘A Journey to Phra Phutthabat’, 21.
54
Chao Phraya Chamnan Borirak was made the Phrakhlang and Chao Phraya Maha
Uparat at the same time. The latter title was not a princely one but the person in this
capacity was treated with the honour due to a prince; that may explain the Dutch nomi-
nation of this official as the ‘under-king’ (onderkoning). For Chao Phraya Chamnan
Borirak, see Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’, 248.
55
VOC 2534, Dagregister De Ghij, February 1740, fos. 134-41; April 1740, fos. 148-
50; 27 Sept. 1740, fo. 181.
56
VOC 1945, Memorie W. Blom, 22 Dec. 1720, fos. 64-5.
57
VOC 2741, Missive Nicolaas Bang to Batavia, 10 Jan. 1749, fos. 27-8.
58
From now on the head of the VOC factory in Ayutthaya was designated by this title.
59
VOC 2781, Missive Bang to Batavia, 15 Jan. 1751, fos. 14-15.
60
VOC 2934, Missive Bang to Batavia, 25 Jan. 1758, fo. 15; Missive Phrakhlang to
Batavia, 1757/8, fo. 34.
61
VOC 2934, Missive Bang to Batavia, 25 Jan. 1758, fos. 5-8; 9 Feb. 1759, fo. 10.
62
VOC 2965, Missive Bang to Batavia, 9 Feb. 1759, fos. 1-3, 10-11, 16; VOC 3024,
Missive Phrakhlang to Batavia, received 1 Dec. 1761, fo. 31.
63
Sri Vijaya Rajasimha ascended the Kandyan throne on the grounds that he was the
younger brother of the queen of King Narendrasimha, who died without a legitimate heir.
Likewise, his brother-in-law, Kirti Sri Rajasimha, succeeded him as another Hindu-
Nayakkar King of Kandy. They both formally embraced Buddhism to win the support of
the Buddhist Sri Lankans. For a short history of the development of Buddhism in
Ceylon—including the explanation for its ‘decline’—up to the Kandy Period, see Kitsiri
Malalgoda, Buddhism in Sinhalese Society 1750-1900: A Study of Religious Revival and
Change (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976), ‘Chapter I: Background’, 11-69.
64
Malalgoda, Buddhism in Sinhalese Society, 61-4; Lorna Dewaraja, ‘Thailand’s Sublime
Gift to Sri Lanka: the Services Rendered by Upali Maha Thera and his Associates’, JRASSL
NS 48 (1996), 91-110; Lodewijk Wagenaar, ‘The Arrival of Buddhist Monks from Siam
in 1753. Mid-eighteenth Century Religious Contacts between Kandy and Siam, as
Recorded by the Dutch East India Company’, paper given at the Seminar Crossroads of
Thai and Dutch History, National Museum of Ethnology, Leiden, 9-11 September 2004.
65
K. W. Goonewardena, ‘Ayutthaya in the Twilight Years and Its Triangular Relation
with the V.O.C. and Sri Lanka’, The Sri Lanka Journal of the Humanities, VI/1-2 (1980),
256 NOTES

1-47, esp. 10, 12. Contrary to Goonewardena’s suspicion, Abraham Arnouts had indeed
served in Siam as the commissioner of the VOC ship to Ayutthaya in 1743.
66
VOC 2718, Missive Gerrit Fek and Bang to Batavia, 27 Jan. 1748, fos. 47-8.
67
Goonewardena, ‘Ayutthaya in the Twilight Years’, 14-15.
68
Ibid. 20.
69
VOC 2718, Missive Fek and Bang to Batavia, 28 Dec. 1747, fos. 31-2; Missive Fek
and Bang to Batavia, 27 Jan. 1748, fo. 51.
70
VOC 2718, Missive Fek to Batavia, 15 Nov. 1747, fos. 4v-6r; Goonewardena,
‘Ayutthaya in the Twilight Years’, 17.
71
Goonewardena, ‘Ayutthaya in the Twilight Years’, 20-1, 22.
72
Malalgoda, Buddhism in Sinhalese Society, 61-4; Goonewardena, ‘Ayutthaya in the
Twilight Years’, 21-2.
73
Goonewardena, ‘Ayutthaya in the Twilight Years’, 15, 17-18.
74
VOC 2718, Missive Fek to Batavia, 15 Nov. 1747, fos. 7v-8v; Missive Fek and Bang
to Batavia, 27 Jan. 1748, fos. 48-9; Generale missiven, XI: 1743-1750, 31 Dec. 1748, 655.
75
For a description of the reception of the embassy in Ayutthaya by the Kandyan
Ambassador, see P. E. Pieris, ‘An Account of King Kirti Sri’s Embassy to Siam in 1672 Saka
(1750 A.D.)’, JRASSL NS 48 (1996), 111-48, esp. 118.
76
VOC 2781, Missive Bang to Batavia, 22 Nov. 1751, fos. 49-55; Missive Bang to
Batavia, 18 Dec. 1751, fo. 8.
77
For a detailed study of this journey, see Wagenaar, ‘The Arrival of Buddhist Monks’.
78
Malalgoda, Buddhism in Sinhalese Society, 62.
79
Wagenaar, ‘The Arrival of Buddhist Monks’, 20.
80
Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’, 83-4, 167-8, 178.
81
VOC 2860, Missive Bang to Batavia, 15 Dec. 1754, fo. 16; VOC 2883, Missive Bang
to Batavia, 15 Jan. 1756, fo. 26.
82
Saichon, ‘setthakit lae sangkom thai nai samai plai ayutthaya’, 14-18.
83
The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 428-9, 432-3; see also Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu
Luang Dynasty’, 89-90.
84
Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’, 101-2.
85
The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 454-7.
86
VOC 2883, Missive Bang to Batavia, 8 Jan. 1757, fos. 14-18.
87
Sunthonthep resided at Wang Sa Kaew (the Residence of the Crystal Pool). The Royal
Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 455, 463.
88
VOC 2883, Missive Bang to Batavia, 8 Jan. 1757, fos. 14-15.
89
Ibid., fos. 15-17.
90
Ibid., fos. 17-18.
91
VOC 2965, Missive Bang to Batavia, 9 Feb. 1759, fo. 8.
92
The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 458-9. Busakorn has suggested that Borommakot’s
alleged statement should not be taken at its face value because its source, the Phra Racha
Phongsawadan Chabab Phra Racha Hattalekha (the Royal Autograph version), was com-
posed by the political elite of the Bangkok Period which sought not least to blame King
Ekathat for the fall of Ayutthaya. See Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’, 104.
93
VOC 2965, Missive Bang to Batavia, 9 Feb. 1759, fo. 8.
94
The granting of royal amnesty to prisoners on auspicious occasions was a persistent
tradition and is still practised in Thailand. Van Vliet, for example, had mentioned this
practice on the occasion of King Chetthathirat’s enthronement in 1628. Van Vliet,
‘Historical Account’, 264.
95
Thai sources mention that King Borommakot ordered Ekathat to be ordained to pre-
vent him from contending the throne. The French also wrote that Ekathat was suffering
from leprosy. The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 459; Launay, Histoire de la mission de Siam
II, 208.
96
VOC 2965, Missive Bang to Batavia, 9 Feb. 1759, fo. 9; Launay, Histoire de la mis-
sion de Siam II, 208.
97
VOC 3032, Missive Huysvoorn to Batavia, 13 Dec. 1762, fo. 1373v.
98
VOC 2965, Missive Bang to Batavia, 9 Feb. 1759, fo. 9.
99
Ibid., fo. 8; VOC 3032, Missive Huysvoorn to Batavia, 13 Dec. 1762, fo. 1372v.
 TO CHAPTER SEVEN 257
100
The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 463-5.
101
Ibid. 466-7; VOC 2965, Missive Bang to Batavia, 9 Feb. 1759, fo. 9; VOC 3032,
Missive Huysvoorn to Batavia, 13 Dec. 1762, fo. 1372v.
102
See also Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’, 108-9.
103
VOC 2965, Missive Bang to Batavia, 9 Feb. 1759, fo. 17; VOC 3032, Missive
Huysvoorn to Batavia, 13 Dec. 1762, fo. 1373v.
104
The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 468-9; Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’,
112.
105
Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’, 222.
106
VOC 2965, Missive Bang to Batavia, 9 Feb. 1759, fo. 17.
107
VOC 2991, Missive Beerendrecht to Batavia, 30 Nov. 1760, fo. 17.
108
VOC 3032, Missive Huysvoorn to Batavia, 13 Dec. 1762, fo. 1375r.
109
There are different versions in Burmese, Thai and English sources about the reason
of Alaungpaya’s retreat, as summarized by Helen James, ‘The Fall of Ayutthaya: A Re-
assessment’, Journal of Burma Studies, 5 (2000), 75-108, esp. 88-9.
110
VOC 3032, Missive Huysvoorn to Batavia, 13 Dec. 1762, fos. 1375v-1376v.
111
Ibid., fo. 1377r-v. The French priests wrote that the ‘princesses’ now had as much
power as King Ekathat himself and, because of their greed, they demanded confiscation
of property instead of the usual death sentence for treason, murder, and fire/arson. The
officials were following their example. Launay, Histoire de la mission de Siam II, 214.
112
VOC 2991, Missive Beerendrecht to Batavia, 30 Nov. 1760, fo. 5; Missive
Phrakhlang to Batavia, 1760, fos. 20-1. James has identified the above-mentioned three
European captives as the three Dutchmen whose release the Englishman Walter Alves
tried to secure, when he was negotiating for the freedom of his own men. However, the
Dutch were held back by the Burmese who believed that they could help make gunpow-
der. See James, ‘The Fall of Ayutthaya’, 85.
113
VOC 3024, Missive Werndlij to Batavia, 4 Dec. 1761, fos. 4-5; VOC 3089, Missive
Werndlij to Batavia, 28 Jan. 1763, fos. 2-3; VOC 3152, Missive Werndlij to Batavia,
28 Dec. 1764, fo. 12.
114
VOC 3024, Missive Werndlij to Batavia, 4 Dec. 1761, fos. 6-7.
115
VOC 3089, Missive Werndlij to Batavia, 31 Dec. 1763, fos. 20-6.
116
Ibid., fos. 9-11, 16-18.
117
VOC 3032, Missive Huysvoorn to Batavia, 13 Dec. 1762, fo. 1377r-v; VOC 3089,
Missive Werndlij to Batavia, 31 Dec. 1763, fos. 3-7. This Phrakhlang was probably the
former Okya Phiphatkosa who succeeded Chao Phraya Chamnan Borirak, who was also
his father-in-law. The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 452.
118
VOC 3024, Missive Werndlij to Batavia, 4 Dec. 1761, fos. 7-8.
119
The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 468-9; Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’,
112-3.
120
VOC 2965, Missive Bang to Batavia, 9 Feb. 1759, fo. 17; VOC 3032, Missive
Huysvoorn to Batavia, 13 Dec. 1762, fos. 1373v, 1374v; The Royal Chronicles of
Ayutthaya, 468.
121
VOC 2965, Missive Bang to Batavia, 9 Feb. 1759, fo. 20.
122
Lorna Dewaraja, The Kandyan Kingdom (Colombo: Lake House Investments, 1988),
122-3, 125-6; VOC 2986, Translaat Singhalese ola relaterende het voorgevallene te
Candia nopens de onderneming der Siamse priesters tegen den koning [Translation of a
Sinhalese ola (letter) relating the events in Kandy regarding the actions of the Siamese
monks against the King], 23 Aug. 1760, 1695r-1697r; Translaat Singhalese ola gerigt aan
den dessave der Colombose ommelanden D. E. Robertus Cramer door den dessave der
drie en vier Corles te Candia Doembere Ralehamy [Translation of a Sinhalese ola
addressed to the Dessave of the Colombo surrounds Robertus Cramer from the Dessave of
the Three and Four Corles in Kandy Doembere Ralehamy], 10 Sept. 1760, fos. 1698r-
1699v.
123
SLNA 1/4873, Secret letter, Batavia to Van Eck, 6 Aug. 1762, not foliated; Secret
letter, Batavia to Van Eck, 19 Nov. 1762, not foliated, quoted in K. W. Goonewardena,
‘A Dutch Mission to Tenasserim and Glimpses of the Mid-Eighteenth Century
Ayutthayan Kingdom’, paper given at the International Conference on Thai Studies,
258 NOTES

Bangkok, 22-24 August 1984, 6.

124
VOC 3032, Missive Huysvoorn to Batavia, 13 Dec. 1762, fos. 1385r, 1386v. The
Dutch mentioned that Thepphiphit’s son who had been with the Prince in Ceylon died
on the return trip from Ceylon, and two other lived as ‘outcasts’ in the temple where
Prince Uthumphon resided, and in that way were held as quasi-hostages by the court.
125
VOC 3032, Missive Huysvoorn to Batavia, 13 Dec. 1762, fo. 1379v.
126
Ibid., fo. 1378r-v.
127
Ibid., fos. 1381r, 1386r, 1392r.
128
This point contrasts with Lorna Dewaraja’s assertion (supposedly based on Sri
Lankan sources) that the Kandyan plot of 1760 was supported by the Ayutthayan court.
There is no evidence in either Thai or Dutch records that the Siamese King had an inter-
est in dethroning the King of Kandy which lay beyond his political interest. It is also
unlikely that King Ekathat wanted to see his renegade brother and political opponent rule
another kingdom, even one so far away. See Dewaraja, The Kandyan Kingdom, 119-25.
129
VOC 3032, Missive Huysvoorn to Batavia, 13 Dec. 1762, fos. 1388r-1389r. The
Powney family was well established in Calcutta in the eighteenth century. See Hutchinson,
Adventurers in Siam, 192.
130
VOC 3032, Missive Huysvoorn to Batavia, 13 Dec. 1762, fos. 1390r-1391r.
131
Ibid., fos. 1391v, 1392v.
132
The colourful episode of Van Damast Limberger’s mission to Mergui and the reveal-
ing account of Siam by De St. Joachim are presented in Goonewardena, ‘A Dutch Mission
to Tenasserim’. VOC 3109, Relaas [Account] Fr. Manuel de St. Joachim, 14 & 18 May
1764, fos. 219r-224r.
133
VOC 3152, Missive Werndlij to Batavia, 18 Nov. 1765, fo. 15. Werndlij also men-
tioned that the Ayutthaya office had asked the Company to consider a withdrawal from
Siam in the letters of 13 Oct. 1757, 30 Sept. 1760, and 24 Sept. 1761.
134
VOC 3089, Missive Werndlij to Batavia, 31 Dec. 1763, fos. 12-14.
135
VOC 3089, Missive Phrakhlang to Batavia, 1763, fos. 16-19, 28.
136
VOC 3032, Missive Huysvoorn to Batavia, 13 Dec. 1762, fos. 1384v, 1387v.
137
VOC 3089, Missive Werndlij to Batavia, 31 Dec. 1763, fos. 3-7.
138
VOC 3152, Missive Werndlij to Batavia, 28 Dec. 1764, fos. 5, 7, 40.
139
Ibid., 15 Feb. 1765, fo. 68.
140
Ibid., 18 Nov. 1765, fos. 4-5.
141
Ibid., fo. 5. English translation from Dhiravat na Pombejra, ‘Fleeing the “Enemy”:
the Final Dutch Letter from Ayutthaya, November 1765’, in Vinai Pongsripian (ed.),
Chatusansaniyachan (Bangkok: the Historical Commission, Ministry of Culture, 2004),
327-45, esp. 334.
142
VOC 3152, Werndlij to Batavia, 18 Nov. 1765, fo. 7.
143
Ibid., fo. 10.
144
Wood, A History of Siam, 245-6; Hutchinson, Adventurers in Siam, 192.
145
VOC 3152, Missive Werndlij to Batavia, 18 Nov. 1765, fos. 13-14.
146
Ibid., 15 Feb. 1765, fo. 68.
147
Ibid., 18 Nov. 1765, fo. 5.
148
For a (commercial) deliberation on the VOC’s withdrawal from Siam in 1765, see
VOC 3125, Generale missive Batavia aan Heren XVII, 20 Oct. 1765, fos. 50v-56v. See
also Chapter One, 25.
149
VOC 3152, Missive Werndlij to Batavia, 18 Nov. 1765, fos. 11-12.
150
According to the royal chronicles, Chaofa Cit fled with his helpers to Phitsanulok
where he caused trouble and consequently was executed by the order of the city governor.
The Royal Chronicles of Ayutthaya, 497-8.
151
VOC 3152, Missive Werndlij to Batavia, 18 Nov. 1765, fos. 12-13, 14.
152
J. J. Boeles, ‘Note on an Eye-witness Account in Dutch of the Destruction of
Ayudhya in 1767’, JSS 56/1 (Jan. 1968), 101-11. The information about Anthony
Goyaton invites further research. Firstly, was Batavia’s description of Goyaton as the for-
mer ‘head of the foreign Europeans’ in Siam correct? The VOC reports from Siam at least
never mention this person. If the position did exist, it was perhaps created after the depar-
ture of the VOC and the French priests to co-ordinate the remaining Europeans.
 TO CONCLUSION 259

Secondly, was there any connection between Goyaton and the Armenian in Mergui men-
tioned by Van Damast Limberger? The Dutchman reported that the deception of De St.
Joachim was revealed to him by an Armenian who was employed by the local authorities
to deal with foreigners and acted as an intermediary between the Dutch and the Governor
of Tenasserim in 1764. This Armenian may have been Goyaton, who probably fled to
Ayutthaya after Mergui and Tenasserim had been ransacked by the Burmese at the end of
1764. Still, it would not be surprising if they were different persons because the Armenian
community had long been established in Ayutthaya. De Chaumont mentioned that a
great part of the sixteen families of Ayutthayan Armenians served as horsemen in King
Narai’s guard. Michael Smithies (ed. and tr.), The Chevalier De Chaumont and the Abbé
De Choisy: Aspects of the Embassy to Siam 1685 (Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books, 1997), 84.
For the Armenian intermediary in Mergui, see Goonewardena, ‘Ayutthaya in the Twilight
Years’, 12-13, 20.
153
For a survey of other accounts of the destruction of Ayutthaya, see James, ‘The Fall
of Ayutthaya’, 97-100.
154
Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’, 118. In 1766, Thepphiphit raised an
army in an attempt to rescue the capital. However, he was defeated by the enemy and fled
to Nakhon Ratchasima where he took over the governorship. His royal blood made him
popular and his position was further strengthened when some officials escaped from
Ayutthaya and joined him. After the ultimate fall of Ayutthaya in early 1767, he was invit-
ed to Phimai where he was crowned as the legitimate King of the Thai. Thepphiphit’s
journey and life came to an end when he was defeated by Taksin.
155
Busakorn, ‘The Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty’, 192.

Notes to Conclusion
1
Ten Brummelhuis, Merchant, Courtier and Diplomat, 56.
2
VOC 2193, Memorie van overgave door Rogier van Alderwereld aan Pieter Sijen
[Instruction by Rogier van Alderwereld to Pieter Sijen], 28 Dec. 1731, fo. 229.
3
One exception is Valentyn, who was a minister of the Dutch Protestant Church in the
VOC service and who claimed that the Dutch and other Europeans managed to convince
the Siamese court to drop the practice of human sacrifice, which had been described by
Van Vliet in the 1630s. Valentyn, Oud en nieuw Oost-Indiën, III: B, 60; Van Vliet,
‘Description of Siam’, 114-5.
 APPENDIX 1

VOC OPPERHOOFDEN AND RESIDENTEN IN AYUTTHAYA

Lambert Jacobz Heijn 1608-1611

Maerten Houtman 1611-1612, 1612-1617
Cornelis van Nijenrode 1611-1612, 1617-1621
Jan Mibaise 1622
Office closed 1623-1624
Pieter van der Elst 1624-1626
Jacob Spanjaart 1626-1627 (acting)
Adriaen de Marees 1627-1629
Office closed 1629-1633
Joost Schouten 1633-1636
Jeremias van Vliet 1636-1641
Hendrick Jansz Nachtegael 1637-1638 (acting)
Reinier van Tzum (van ’t Zum) 1641-1645
Isaac Moerdijck 1645
Jan van Muijden 1646-1650
Rijckloff van Goens 1650 (acting)
Volkerus Westerwolt 1650-1651 (acting)), 1652-1656
Hendrick Craijers 1651-1652
Jan van Rijck 1656-1662
Enoch Poolvoet 1662-1663 (acting), 1664-1668
Office closed 1663-1664
Johannes van der Spijck 1668-1669 (acting), 1672-1676
Nicolaes de Roij 1669-1672
Gilles Goosens 1676 (acting)
Dirk de Jongh 1676-1678
Aarnout Faa 1678-1685
Johannes Keijts 1685-1688
Pieter van den Hoorn 1688-1691
Joannes van Wagensvelt 1691-1692
Thomas van Son 1692-1697
Reinier Boom 1697-1698
Gideon Tant 1699-1703
Arnout Cleur 1703-1712
Office closed 1706
Dirk Blom 1712-1717
Wijbrant Blom 1717-1720
Hendrik Verburg 1721-1722
Gregorius Hendrik Praagman 1723-1726
Imel Christiaen Cock 1726-1727
Rogier van Alderwereld 1722-1723 (acting), 1728-1731
Pieter Sijen 1732-1733
Willem de Ghij 1734-1735, 1740-1741
Theodorus Jacobus van den Heuvel 1735-1740
Office closed 1741-1747
Nicolaas Bang 1747-1760
Nicolaas van Berendrecht 1760-1761 (acting)
Abraham Werndlij 1761-1765
262 APPENDICES

Sources: VOC 1614-1765; W. Wijnaendts van Resandt, De gezaghebbers der Oost-Indische

Compagnie op hare buiten-comptoiren in Azië (Amsterdam: Liebaert, 1944); Smith, The
Dutch in Seventeenth-Century Thailand; Ten Brummelhuis, Merchant, Courtier and
Diplomat.
 APPENDICES 263

APPENDIX 2

THE KINGS OF AYUTTHAYA

IN THE SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES

King Naresuan 1590-1605

King Ekathotsarot 1605-1610/11
King Sisaowaphak 1610/11
King Songtham 1610/11 - 12 December 1628*
King Chetthathirat December 1628 - August 1629
King Athityawong August 1629 - September 1629
King Prasatthong September 1629 - 7/8 August 1656*
King Chai 8 August 1656
King Sisuthammaracha August - 29 October 1656*
King Narai October 1656 - 11 July 1688*
King Phetracha August 1688 - 5 February 1703*
King Süa February 1703 - 9 February 1709*
King Thaisa February 1709 - 13 January 1733*
King Borommakot January 1733 - 29 April 1758*
King Uthumphon May 1758 - 1 June 1758**
King Ekathat June 1758 - March/April 1767

* Dates of decease according to the VOC sources.

** Date of abdication according to the French sources.
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Footprint: Theodorus Jacobus van den Heuvel’s Account of his Voyage to Phra Phutthabat
in 1737 (Bangkok: The Royal Netherlands Embassy, 1997), 53-62.
—— Thailand: A Short History (Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books, 1984).
Zandvliet, Kees, ‘Vestingbouw in de Oost’, in Knaap, Gerrit and Teitler, Ger (eds.), De
Verenigde Oost-Indische Compagnie tussen oorlog en diplomatie (Leiden: KITLV Press,
2002), 151-80.
 INDEX

Abdu’r-Razzaq, 21, 122, 126, 156 201, 202, 203, 204, 205, 218, 219
absolutism, 5, 92 Brochebourde, Daniel, 51, 138, 142,
Aceh, 29, 31, 73, 74, 103, 131 145, 153, 154, 156, 158, 160, 163
‘Age of Commerce’, 4 Brochebourde, Moses, 52-3, 160, 169,
‘Age of Imperialism’, 1 174
Alak, Okphra, 66 Brochebourde, Pieter, 50,
Alderwereld, Rogier van, 23, 187 Brummelhuis, Han ten, 2, 4, 39, 40, 53,
ammunition, 33, 42, 142, 171 102
Amsterdam (city), 31 Buginese, 33
Amsterdam (VOC warehouse in Siam), bullion, 18, 22
43, 44, 129, 178, 186, 191, 215, 216 Burma, 19, 21, 26, 30, 72, 118, 214,
Andaya, Barbara Watson, 1 218, 224
Anderson, John, 2, 24 Burmese invasions, 4, 25, 181, 205, 206,
Angk Em, King, 182 207, 208, 212, 214, 219
Aphai, Prince, 183 Burmese King, 72, 73, 205
Aphainuchit, Queen, 189, 200 Burmese people, 19, 26, 194, 205, 206,
Aphaithot, Prince, 151, 163 212, 213, 214, 215, 216, 217, 218,
Aphaiwari, Okluang, 156 219
Aphaiwichit, Okluang, 191 Busakorn Lailert Kanchanachari, 219
Arabia, 13
astrology, 145-6 Cambodia, 21, 26, 28, 30, 57, 58, 75,
astronomy, 146-7 145, 152, 161, 169, 181, 208, 215
Cambodian King, 27, 169, 182, 188
ban, 42, 44, 45, 53 Canton, 25, 28, 42, 71, 72, 130
Ban Chao Phraya, 44, 57 Cape of Good Hope, 6, 132, 141
Ban Phlu Luang Dynasty, 2, 29, 219 cash, 13, 23, 153, 185, 193, 199, 213,
Bang, Michiel, 206, 207, 217 216
Bang, Nicolaas, 193, 194, 198, 199, 201, census, 48
202, 203, 204, 206, 209 Ceylon (Sri Lanka), 7, 18, 19, 76, 181,
Bangkok, 13, 58, 75, 128, 143, 153, 195, 196, 198, 209, 211, 212, 219
170, 178, 190, 214, 215 Chakri, Okya, 88, 89, 106, 107, 115,
Bangtanao, 58 121, 201
banquet, 58, 61, 63, 127 Chamnan Borirak, Chao Phraya, 183,
Banten, 29 192, 200
Beerendrecht, Nicolaas van, 205, 207 Chamnan Channarong, Khun, 183
Bengal, 23, 25, 26, 28, 66, 74, 83, 84, Chao Phraya River, 3, 21, 26, 42, 43,
119, 142 44, 82, 204, 205, 207
Bengal, Bay of, 13, 16, 123, 126 Charbonneau, René, 45, 157-8
betel, 63, 65, 117 Chaumont, Chevalier de, 111, 135, 136,
betel box, 62, 64, 108, 114, 156, 187, 139
192 Chettha II, King, 26
Beuningen, Coenraad van, 5 Chetthathirat, King, 61, 97, 98
Bitter, Pieter de, 178 China, 17, 18, 19, 21, 22, 30, 53, 64,
Blom, Wijbrand, 36, 45-48, 49, 193 70, 71, 72, 75, 102, 118, 123, 130,
Blussé, Leonard, 7 135, 145
Bogaert, Abraham, 14 Chinese people, 14, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24,
Bombay, 215 33, 37, 49, 70, 81, 95, 106, 121, 153,
Boom, Reinier, 161, 170, 171 156, 165, 173, 184, 193
Borommakot, King, 11, 80, 180, 181, Chit, Prince, 217
184, 185, 186, 188, 189, 190, 191, Chitsunthon, Prince, 200, 201, 203
192, 195, 196, 197, 198, 199, 200, Choduek, Okphra, 109, 165, 178, 192,
274 INDEX

211, 217 124, 181, 222

Christian, 55, 81, 89, 138, 145, 174, elephant(s), 25, 38, 55, 59, 63, 73, 74,
188, 209, 217, 221, 223 89, 117, 119, 130, 151, 163, 165, 195
Christianity, 8, 123, 135, 144, 145, 188 elephants’ teeth, 25, 119, 130, 185
Chula, Okphra, 86, 105, 107, 132, 142, embassy/embassies, 19, 30, 31, 32, 84,
151 129,
Cleen Zeelandt, 26, 75 - Ceylonese/Kandyan embassy, 196, 197,
Cleur, Aarnout, 175, 178, 179, 202 198
clock(s), 138, 141, 146, 159 - Dutch embassy, 56, 57, 62, 64, 65, 66,
Cochin China, 28, 33, 123 68, 70, 71, 105, 106, 210
Coen, Jan Pieterszoon, 57 - French embassy, 32, 128, 138, 139,
Colombo, 45, 124 146
copper, 22, 63, 87, 176 - Persian embassy, 32, 126, 133, 137,
Coromandel, 22, 25, 28, 75, 119, 141, 138
174, 182, 211 - Portuguese embassy, 40, 75, 80, 82, 83,
Council of the Indies, 6, 17 94, 133, 134, 156
court Brahman, 60 - Spanish embassy, 182
court ceremonial, 56, 83, 85, 110 English East India Company (EIC), 22,
court etiquette, 63, 221 155
cowries, 19 English people, 3, 23, 24, 26, 27, 44, 53,
cross-cultural interactions, 4, 35 55, 118, 119, 136, 153, 156, 159,
Cruysse, Dirk van der, 2 194, 195, 199
culture Enkhuizen, 31
- court culture, 12 Enlightenment, 9
- material culture, 3, 8, 33, 140, 143 Essen, Floris van, 191
- political and bureaucratic culture, 5, Euro-centrism, 1
15, 91, 111, 112, 150 exclusive rights, 18, 20, 132
currency, 19 exotic birds, 159
expansion, 140, 194, 199, 222
damask, 60, 64 - commercial/trade expansion, 19, 21,
Damast Limberger, Willem van, 211, 117, 119
212 - diplomatic expansion, 119, 136, 147
debt(s), 24, 37, 48, 119, 167, 183, 190, - European overseas expansion, 6
212, 217 - maritime expansion, 7
Delft, 31 - territorial expansion, 7
Desfarges, General, 153, 157 extraterritorial rights, 21, 36, 40, 41, 53,
Deshima, 42 133
devaraja, 13 eyeglasses, 159
Dhiravat na Pombejra, 2, 3, 96, 113,
117, 121, 133, 149 Faa, Aarnout, 28, 125, 126, 141, 145
Diemen, Anthonio van, 39, 64, 65, 66, Fek, Gerrit, 195-8
67 fire, 41, 47, 49, 170, 171
diplomacy, 7, 8, 15, 17, 30, 32, 33, 56, food, 33, 60, 63, 77, 106, 126, 127,
57, 64, 70, 90, 111, 123, 127, 130, 137, 186, 187, 198, 203
132, 134, 147, 150, 199, 222, 223 Forbin, Chevalier de, 127, 128, 129
diplomatic protocol, 56, 57, 62, 130, Formosa (Taiwan), 19, 21, 28, 130, 131
137, 138, 147, 210 France, 32, 40, 41, 111, 124, 127, 128,
ducats, 25, 206, 207 129, 132, 134, 135, 136, 138, 139,
Dutch Reformed Church, 6 140, 145, 156, 160, 166
Dutch Republic, 6, 17, 30, 32, 37, 57, Frederick Henry, Prince, 56, 58, 60, 62,
94, 145 64, 65, 66, 68
free burghers(s), 40, 41, 45
East Asia, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 42, 55, French people, 2, 3, 22, 24, 27, 29, 40,
119, 123 41, 111, 112, 122, 123, 124, 127,
Ekathat, King, 180, 194, 203, 204, 205, 128, 129, 132, 133, 134, 135, 136,
208, 209, 210, 213, 216, 218, 219 137, 139, 140, 143, 144, 146, 147,
Ekathotsarot, King, 19, 27, 30, 42, 93, 148, 149, 150, 152, 153, 154, 155,
 INDEX 275

156, 157, 158, 159, 160, 163, 166, Indonesian Archipelago, 7, 13

177, 179, 190, 211 Indragiri, 28
French East India Company (CIO), 40, interpreter(s), 14, 42, 47, 50, 51, 62, 69,
123-4 74, 77, 95, 105, 106, 113, 125, 133,
Fujian, 19, 24 139, 158, 162, 163, 171, 174, 183,
Furber, Holden, 1 186, 190, 216, 217
Islam, 135, 144
Gentlemen Seventeen, 6, 127 isolationism, 2, 149
Gervaise, Nicholas, 37, 42
Ghij, Willem de, 190, 191, 192 Jakarta, 7
gift-giving, 30, 64, 110, 118, 121, 213 Jambi, 28, 29, 80, 132
gifts, 7, 12, 30, 31, 32, 33, 57, 58, 59, Japan, 6, 7, 8, 13, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 27,
60, 61, 64, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 28, 29, 30, 33, 45, 56, 64, 67, 71, 72,
74, 81, 103, 104, 112, 114, 115, 122, 75, 77, 123, 174
126, 128, 130, 131, 132, 134, 138, Japanese people, 14, 20, 45, 99, 114,
139, 143, 156, 157, 159, 165, 169, 115, 116
178, 192, 193, 194, 196, 197, 198, Java, 7, 17, 18, 19, 25, 28, 132, 172
211, 215, 216, 217, 223 Javanese people, 52, 159, 172
Goa, 40, 76, 80, 81, 132 Jesuit, 144, 146, 147, 157, 160
Goens, Rijckloff van, 28, 44, 112, 120 jewels, 87, 134, 159
gold, 140, 141, 144, 156, 157, 163, 189, Johor, 28, 29, 31, 152
190, 192 Jongh, Dirk de, 141
Goonewardena, K. W., 197 Judicial autonomy, 38
Goor, Jurrien van, 4, 30, 32, 33, 126 judicial system, 37
Governor-General, 6, 17, 31, 32, 33, 39,
40, 52, 53, 57, 58, 61, 62, 64, 65, 66, kaikin, 20
67, 68, 69, 70, 76, 77, 78, 80, 81, Kalahom, Okya, 79, 82, 88, 94, 97, 98
109, 114, 117, 130, 141, 142, 156, Kamphaengphet, Okya, 88
157, 166, 167, 177, 178, 193, 194, kampong, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51,
210, 211, 213, 216 157, 162, 173
Goyaton, Anthony, 218 Kandy, 7, 76, 194, 195, 196, 197, 198,
Gulf of Siam, 13, 19, 69 199, 208, 209, 210, 219
Kedah, 33, 74, 83, 84, 131, 152, 161,
Hague, The, 31 168, 214
hai-jin, 24 Keijts, Johannes, 125, 126, 127, 128,
heathen, 52, 60, 173, 223 129, 132, 133, 138, 139, 140, 141,
Heecq, Gijsbert, 43, 44 143, 151, 152, 153, 154, 155, 156,
Heuvel, Theodorus Jacobus van den, 157, 158, 159, 224
184, 185, 187, 189, 190, 191, 192, Kemp, Jeremy, 3
197, 199 ‘King of Holland’, 31, 39, 60, 67, 90
High Government, 6, 8, 35, 38, 52, 61, kingship, 3, 10, 11, 17, 30, 73, 91, 92,
69, 70, 102, 112, 116, 127, 128, 130, 101, 102, 137, 144, 145, 147, 149,
147, 157, 177, 180, 181, 192, 196, 150, 159, 168, 180, 223
212, 217 Kirti Sri, King, 194, 198, 209
Hoorn, 31 Khlang, 125, 193, 200
Hoorn, Pieter van den, 52, 156, 157, Kleinen, John, 39
158, 162, 163, 164, 165, 167 Korea, 30
horse(s), 25, 59, 72, 84, 86, 156, 159, Kosa Lek, 118, 119, 120, 124, 125, 156
171, 172, 178, 189, 215 Kosa Pan, 156, 166, 167, 168, 171, 176
horse-buyers, 25 Kotmai Tra Sam Duang, 36, 38
Hutchinson, E. W., 2, 149 Kraan, Alfons van der, 39
Huysvoorn, Marten, 205, 210, 211 krom, 11, 14, 94, 199, 201, 208
Krom Tha Khwa, 14, 94
Iberians, 26, 27, 75, 80, 101 Krom Tha Sai, 14, 94
Ibn Muhammad Ibrahim, 126, 134, 137 khunnang, 11, 12, 14, 35, 58, 59, 63,
India, 8, 22, 24, 25, 30, 119, 160 66, 71, 77, 79, 88, 94, 95, 97, 98,
Indian Ocean, 7, 24 104, 105, 109, 110, 112, 117, 118,
276 INDEX

119, 121, 150, 151, 152, 154, 165, Mergui, 13, 24, 25, 26, 126, 128, 181,
166, 167, 173, 176, 180, 182, 183, 209, 210, 211, 212
184, 185, 192, 193, 199, 200, 201, metal, 19, 134
202, 204, 207, 208, 210, 219, 222, Ming, 19, 21
223 miscegenation, 45
Missions Étrangères, Société des, 122,
La Loubère, Simon de, 111, 128, 139, 123, 124, 133, 134, 135, 205
144, 145, 157 Mon, 52, 53, 73, 84, 109, 181, 207
laken, 59 Moor(s), 20, 22, 55, 71, 74, 85, 86, 88,
Laneau, Bishop, 134, 139, 153 89, 106, 133, 151, 164, 165, 173,
Lansang, 21, 89, 118, 169, 172, 174 181, 194
law, 5, 36, 46, 52, 67, 73, 91, 92, 110, Mughal, 8, 22, 30, 74, 118
205 Mukhtar Beg, 74, 83, 85, 88
- Dutch law, 38, 40, 49 music, 58, 60, 61, 171
- inheritance law, 51, 93, 119 Muslim(s), 14, 20, 24, 42, 89
- law of nations, 73
- Palatine Law, 12 Nagasaki, 14, 21, 42
- Siamese law, 36, 38, 41, 47, 51, 93, nai, 42, 45, 51, 53
112 Nakhon Naiyok, 170
legal immunity, 38, 40, 46, 50, 73, 129, Nakhon Ratchasima (Khorat), 104, 161,
186, 190 170, 171, 172, 173, 174, 181
legal plurality, 38 Nakhon Sithammarat, 11
Leiden, 31 namrak, 37, 119
Ligor (Nakhon Sithammarat), 11, 18, Nang Paan, 206, 207
20, 25, 44, 49, 99, 102, 118, 125, Narai, King, 2, 3, 11, 14, 20, 21, 22, 27,
131, 152, 161, 162, 165, 167, 178, 28, 29, 32, 40, 41, 44, 45, 51, 52,
180, 191, 192, 199, 214, 215, 217 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117,
linen, 24, 187, 215, 216 118, 119, 120, 121, 124, 125, 126,
Lingat, Robert, 40 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 133, 134,
Lobpburi, 44, 127, 128, 133, 137, 141, 135, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141,
142, 144, 147, 151, 152, 153, 185 142, 143, 145, 146, 147, 151-6, 158,
lord-vassal relations, 26 160-3, 165, 166, 170, 172, 174, 175,
Louis XIV, 123, 134, 136, 138, 140, 181-6
147, 158, 160 Naren, Prince, 183, 200
Luang Krai, 206, 207 Naresuan, King, 11, 19, 94
naval blockade, 3, 18, 21, 53, 198
Macao, 7, 27, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, Netherlands, The, 2, 6, 31, 53, 58, 96,
82 189
Madras, 23, 24, Nijenrode, Cornelis van, 17, 26, 55, 57,
Malacca, 7, 19, 20, 26, 27, 28, 29, 33, 61, 70, 88, 91, 93, 95, 108
68, 75, 80, 82, 87, 95, 101, 118, 119, Noi, Prince, 151, 152, 163, 175
131, 216
Malalgoda, Kitsiri, 197 Osoet, 52, 109, 110
Malay Archipelago, 13, 18, 25, 29, 32 Osterhammel, Jürgen, 1
Malay community in Siam, 45, 86, 144
Malay (language), 45, 81, 106, 125 Pahang, 28, 107
Malay Peninsula, 14, 22, 26, 27, 30, 131 Pak Nam, 43, 178, 191
Malay people, 119, 183 Palembang, 28
Manila, 7, 27, 28, 75, 80, 82, 182 Pallu, Bishop, 124, 125, 134, 149
manpower, 10, 13, 52, 83, 85, 95, 106, Paramet, Prince, 183
122, 125, 151, 154, 173, 174, 180 Patani, 19, 27, 38, 64, 65, 69, 74, 75,
Marees, Adriaan de, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62 84, 94, 101, 102, 103, 104, 106, 115,
massacre, 27 152, 161, 168, 170, 181
Masulipatam, 182 Pegu, 72, 73, 85, 89, 172, 195
Mataram, 17, 19, 30, 132, 171 Peguan (Mon), 45, 72
Maurice, Prince, 31, 57, 60 perception(s), 2, 4, 5, 31, 86, 136, 150,
medicine, 158, 159, 166 223
 INDEX 277

Persia, 8, 20, 28, 30, 32, 111, 125, 132, Raben, Remco, 149
135, 138, 140 Radje Ebrehem, 86, 87
Persian community in Siam, 120, 137 Ratchamontri, Okphra, 62, 76, 105,
Phaetosot, Okphra, 161 106, 165, 178
Phatthalung, 102, 161, 168 rebellion, 97, 102, 157, 161, 162, 163,
Phaulkon, Constantine, 16, 22, 112, 164, 165, 170, 171, 173, 181
122, 125-9, 132, 136, 137, 139, 140, recognitiegelden, 193, 194, 199, 200
142, 143, 144, 146, 148, 151, 152, Reid, Anthony, 51
153, 154, 155, 156, 157, 165, 166 religion(s), 8, 40, 41, 52, 76, 89, 92,
Phetracha, Okphra or King, 2, 22, 28, 135, 137, 145, 147, 171, 188, 195,
33, 41, 50, 51, 144, 148, 149, 150, 221
151, 153, 154, 155, 156, 157, 159, revolution
160, 161, 162, 164, 165, 166, 167, - Industrial Revolution, 9
168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 173, 175, - Palace Revolution, 2, 3, 22, 148, 149,
176, 177, 179, 222, 224 150, 151, 154, 155, 161, 164, 179
Phiphatkosa, Okphra, 185, 192 Riau, 28
Phiphatkosa, Okya, 166, 172, 174, 175 rice, 13, 19, 23, 37, 61, 65, 66, 105,
Phitsanulok (place), 37, 83, 129, 152, 114, 115, 116, 118, 144, 178, 183,
165 186, 198, 217
Phitsanulok, Okya, 88, 93, 99, 104 Rijck, Jan van, 114, 117
Phon, Prince, 182-4, 187, 188 ritual, 3, 8, 10, 11, 12, 15, 29, 39, 56,
Phonlathep, Okya, 88, 170, 175, 178 62, 83, 84, 87, 89, 90, 91, 145, 198,
Phra Horathibodi, 144, 146 215, 221
Phra Phutthabat (Buddha’s Footprint), - court ritual, 10, 62, 83, 89, 91
187, 188, 189, 191, 192, 193, 213 Roij, Jan Joosten de, 62, 63, 64, 68, 90,
Phra Pi, 151, 152 94, 105, 114
Phrakhlang Sinka, 15 Roij, Nicolaas de, 44, 117, 118, 119,
Phuket, 45, 118, 119, 129, 139, 157 120
Pondicherry, 160 Roman Catholic, 40, 41, 45, 125, 127,
Poolvoet, Enoch, 121, 130 145, 149, 151, 155, 194, 211
Portugal, 7, 27, 76, 77, 79, 81, 127, royal palace, 58, 59, 62, 84, 85, 88, 97,
132, 133, 140 100, 113, 114, 115, 116, 163, 175,
Portuguese people, 17, 29, 40, 44, 55, 176, 183, 184, 195, 201, 203
74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 87, Royal Treasury, 125, 156, 168, 192, 194,
106, 115, 116, 123, 124, 133, 154, 207, 216, 223
163, 173, 195 Ryukyu Islands, 14, 30
power relations, 4, 5, 15, 36, 108, 179,
218, 219, 222 sakdi na, 10, 38
power-sharing, 16, 222 sappanwood, 19, 44, 71, 109, 119, 185,
Powney, William, 211, 215 190, 193, 206, 207, 212, 213, 214,
pragmatism, 5, 32, 138, 221 215, 217, 218
Prasatthong, King, 11, 14, 15, 17, 20, Sawankhalok (place), 83
27, 28, 38, 39, 42, 43, 52, 55, 56, 62, Sawankhalok, Okya, 88
63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 71, 72, 73, Schouten, Joost, 17, 26, 37, 38, 56, 62-
74, 75, 76, 78, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 8, 74, 75, 83-6, 89-92, 96-104, 106-
87, 88, 89, 93, 94, 96, 97, 98, 99, 10, 113, 114, 121, 154, 221
100, 101, 102, 103, 105, 107, 108, Sediamet, 86, 97
112, 113, 114, 115, 120, 121, 147, Sepphakdi, Prince, 200, 203
153, 158, 161, 166, 176, 184, 196, settlement,
218, 219, 222, 224 - French settlement, 45
Prince of Orange, 26, 31, 32, 33, 57, 58, - Portuguese settlement, 216
59, 60, 61, 63, 64, 66, 68, 69, 70, 74, - VOC/Dutch settlement in Ayutthaya,
80, 85, 130 36, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49,
purge, 11, 97, 98, 121, 179, 183 50, 51, 54, 68, 109, 158, 178, 180,
206, 216
Qing, 23, 130 - VOC/Dutch settlement in Ligor, 44
278 INDEX

Seyed Ali, 218 212, 213, 218

Shogun, 8, 64 textiles, 12, 18, 19, 23, 24, 25, 28, 61,
Shogunate, 21, 20, 22, 71 119, 125, 130, 133, 140, 159, 170,
silk, 18, 57, 58, 72, 119 185, 190, 193
silver, 19, 22, 23, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 71, Thaisa, King, 11, 15, 33, 43, 53, 180,
74, 87, 88, 104, 118, 127, 133, 144, 181, 182, 183, 186, 187, 188, 200
159, 163, 168, 187, 188, 190, 193, Thammathian, 161, 162, 163, 181
197 Thammathibet, Prince, 183, 189, 200,
Sinaowarat, Okphra, 120, 126, 137, 165 202, 206, 208
Sisuthammaracha, King, 113, 114, 115, Thephamat, Queen, 203
152 Thepphiphit, Prince, 200, 202, 208,
(animal) skins, 20, 23, 45, 103 209, 210, 211, 212, 218
Smith, George Vinal, 2, 20, 40, 45, 53 Thommo-reachea, King, 181, 182
Sombattiban, Okya, 120, 121, 154, 175, Thonburi, 215, 218
192, 193 tin, 20, 23, 41, 44, 118, 119, 130, 131,
Son, Thomas van, 44, 167, 168 183, 185, 186, 190, 193, 194, 199,
Songkhla, 27, 120, 131 206, 207, 213, 214, 217
Songtham, King, 26, 55, 58, 60, 61, 74, Tonkin, 28, 123
93, 96, 97, 99, 100, 113, 145, 154, trade, 123,125, 126, 128, 131, 132, 133,
222 134, 143, 149, 150, 156, 158, 159,
Sorasak, Luang or Prince, 151, 152, 157, 166, 167, 168, 172, 173, 174, 177,
162, 164, 166, 168, 169, 170, 172, 178, 180, 182, 184, 185, 187, 196,
173, 174, 175 199, 204, 205, 213, 215, 219, 221,
South Africa, 42 222, 223
South-East Asia, 10, 13, 24, 25, 31, 64, - Intra-Asian trade, 6, 8, 18
123, 132, 194 - maritime trade, 6, 13, 55, 172, 177
Spain, 27, 61, 77, 93 - private trade, 6, 14
Spanish Habsburg monarchy, 6 Trailok, King, 10
Spanish people, 17, 27, 75, 80 travel literature, 14
Specx, Cornelis, 31 treaty, 22, 28, 29, 30, 102, 138, 139
Sri Vijaya, King, 194, 195, 196 - Dutch-Siamese Treaty, 21, 22, 23, 25,
St. Joachim, Manuel de, 211-12 36, 40, 41, 46, 48, 49, 52, 155, 158,
Stadholder, 31, 32, 58, 60, 63, 64, 69 166, 177, 178, 199
States General, 6, 32 - Franco-Siamese Treaty, 40, 160
Statutes of Batavia, 38 - (Portuguese-Siamese) Treaty, 29
Süa, King, 15, 24, 53, 175, 176, 178, Tzum, Reinier van, 68, 86, 100, 114,
179, 180, 181, 182 164
succession conflict(s), 11, 96, 113, 114,
144, 154, 183, 208, 222, 224, Uthumphon, King, 204-7, 208, 210,
Sukhothai (place), 152 218, 219
Sukhothai, Okya, 88, 115, 121
Sumatra, 22, 132 Valentyn, François, 14
Sunthonthep, Prince, 200, 201, 203 Velsen, Jan van, 177-8
Surat, 28, 42, 124, 182, 194 Verburg, Hendrik, 45, 46
Syahbandar, 42, 68, 74, 81, 95, 105, ‘vermilion-seal’, 33
110, 165 Vietnam, 14, 30, 182
Syriam, 26 Vliet, Jeremias van, 17, 37, 39, 56, 67-
80, 82, 83, 85-9, 91-100, 103, 104,
Tachard, Guy, 111, 144, 160 106-10, 113, 114, 154, 164, 224
Tant, Gideon, 161, 170, 171, 172, 173, Vos, Reinout, 6
174, 175, 177, 178
tax exemptions, 23, 155 Wang, Okya, 88, 125
taxation, 24, 93, 215 war, 6, 19, 21, 25, 27, 51, 61, 69, 72,
Tavoy, 181, 213, 214 78, 79, 84, 92, 102, 111, 116, 117,
tea, 25, 165, 187 124, 127, 131, 139, 145, 168, 169,
Tenasserim, 11, 13, 26, 33, 137, 152, 172, 181, 223
157, 162, 163, 165, 166, 181, 210, - Anglo-Dutch War, 8, 124
 INDEX 279

- civil war, 170 Westerwolt, Volkerus, 113-16, 121

- Dutch-Kandyan War, 198 Wyatt, David K., 5, 149
- Franco-Dutch War, 158 Yommarat, Okya, 76, 77, 79, 80, 86, 99,
Wat Chai Watthanaram, 144 162, 204
Wat Mahathat, 85, 87 Yothathep, Princess, 153, 171-3, 174,
Wat Phananchoeng, 46 175, 176
Wat Phra Si Sanphet, 84, 89
Wat Prodsat, 44 Zeeland, 31
Werndlij, Abraham, 206, 207, 210, 212- Zheng Chenggong (Coxinga), 21, 24,
18 130