The Jewel Among Beasts - A dramatic Siam AAR

The fog lied thick over the Bangkok harbour. In a distance, the bells of foreign trade vessels silently rang, the winds were a breeze at best, and the thriving merchant shops dealing in ebony, rare furs and opium were but a mumbling slur on the docks. Evenings were always slow, but they were still alive.

The feathered dragoon guard lined up in perfect discipline. Swords held in attention, and eyes straight forward. An officer of the royal guard took a last inspection before the ship of the king would arrive. 1836 it was, January 1st. His majesty Jessadabodindra, or as the Siamese people would call him, Rama III, was expected to return from his tour through Europe this day. His vast journey, starting in Venice, to Vienna, to Krakow, to St. Petersburg from where he sailed to Stockholm, to Copenhagen and by ferry to Lübeck as he headed for Berlin, to Amsterdam and Brussels, to London and finally Paris, before he went to Madrid, was finally at an end. For two years the ruler had basically visited all of the most important courts of Europe, in order to study and enlighten. As the waves started to rush in, and breakers flooded the harbour, the artillery fired 12 shots in order to welcome the ruler back to his home soil.

His royal highness crown prince Mongkut awaited his return with anxious feelings. What had his brother seen? What new ideas would he now force upon his people? Would this be an era known for subjugation or rule? It was without a doubt a mellow evening. For two years he had basically ruled the kingdom as he’d been the king himself. His youth in Oxford had taught him the virtues of free speech, and by such means he had governed his administration. It was thanks to this, that Mongkut really got the insight of how weary and troubled the court of Siam had grown whilst the shadow of the colonial empires closed in. Hopefully his brother now would bring good news to share with the public...

The ship was not the one they had expected. A huge Galleon approached the docks, and would it not been for the royal flag waving their way, they would had thought a lost trader was seeking quarter on the kings private dock. The bridge was lowered and trumpets flew. Rama III stood at the top, barely a shadow through the haze. While the orchestra eloped tunes of native origin, the aging king put’d on a cap of military style, as he took the first leap down the bridge, to enter the shores of His land, and His alone. The absolute ruler of Siam was home.

The two siblings had barely said one word to each other on the way home to the palace. Nothing else but pleasantries needed not to be uttered, at least not yet. Tomorrow would be a long working day, they both were of this very well aware. His majesty’s arrival was no secret. Streets were crowded by the people from the whole province, willing to show their earthly ruler their respect through leaves of poppy, roses and thyme. Spices filled the air, and the White Elephant’s warden took a deep breath of delight.
“By all wonders of the world, the scent of one’s home will always be the one closest to heart.” He said with almost obscene serenity.

The carriage arrived at the palace after the slow procession through town. Lush gardens of green and grey alike crowned the estate. It was an impressive palace, but by comparison with what the king had seen, nothing but a colonial flat. Still, his very body shook out of bliss to finally be home after such a long trip. His family and six consorts stood waiting on the porch to greet him before the homecoming supper. As pleasantries, jokes, tales of exotic creatures, people and traditions was exchanged; Mongkut could no longer still his tongue.

“Phii chaay, I am most anxious to hear of India. Were you ever there? Considering its destiny, I’d find their political situation most intriguing and would like to learn more.”

The king gazed down the table upon his brother. Dead-pan.

“I thought work could have waited until tomorrow.” The joyous atmosphere had dispersed as fast as it had come.

“I wish to dine no more. I shall withdraw. But first, join me Mangkut. In the garden, if you may.”

“Your majesty…” Mangkut lowered his head for a bow, as did the whole table, while the monarch left the room. When the guard had struck the floor twice, the future ruler of Siam followed his sibling’s word, and headed for the inner gardens.

The king sat at one of the benches with his head lowered, holding something in his hand.

“Phii Chaay, you seem troubled. I meant no offense, but you have been gone for so long. We have so much to discuss...” The king held up his hand to stay Mangkuts words.

“Let us for one night, just be brothers.”

“As you wish.” Mangkut joined him on the bench, not paying attention to the thing in his hand. Cicadas filled the night with sweet music as incense from within filled the garden.

“A starry night.” The king mumbled.

“How do you know that?” The grass was wet from yesterday’s rain. The fog was still thick.

“I just know. A king’s privilege.” Sounds of children echoed against the walls. Within, families of many in the royal line played as the night turned into midnight, barely aware of their use by blood as it had been written down centuries ago. Their significance, almost none. Their lives, just as precious as anyone’s.

“This soil,” the king continued, ”will further bear the offspring’s of future Thai. Siamese families depend on it to nurture them and feed them. Then what are we? Gods? Kings? Subjects? What are we to this good earth, Mangkut?”

“Its shepherds.”

“What makes you say that?”

“By Buddha’s words, our lives are nothing but misery. What we do here, what we must do, is to bleed for it. It is misery. It requires our care. For how else do we reach a higher being?”

“When did the earth ever need men to care for it? In Europe, I’ve seen them burn forests, coal, sulphur and coke just to feed the earth with black smoke. Such sickness, I’ve never seen anything quite like it. And the things they make... A blacksmith couldn’t do in a year what their manufactories do in one day.” The king leaned over and locked his eyes to Mangkut’s. “Their pace kills the earth.”

“Then what are we to this earth, brother?”

The king stood up and threw whatever he held in his hand into the pond.
“Vermin.” With hastened steps the once proud ruler left the gardens to withdraw to his chambers, well aware of how he showed weakness to the only person he’d ever dare to do such with. Mangkut was stunned and prepared to leave. As he stood up to correct his uniform he swiftly turned to see whatever his brother had fingered with. A fine piece of jewellery it was. A star with a leaping horse. An honour of high esteem without a doubt. Mangkut’s mood fell. Tomorrow would be a long day...

I guess the comments may come later. I will hold my writing at the moment and keep posting what I've already written and see what happens

I'm at 1882 atm in my game, and would play further, but my laptop heats up too quickly and the game turns sluggish without my external cooler. Need to get it back.

The king had assembled the whole council as the crown prince entered the room. A feast was served alongside the wall, for later use.

“Gentleman,” the king opened, “please heed.” Everyone present sat down to pay attention. There was the royal vizier, the marshals of the Army and the Grand Admiral of the fleet, the treasurer, the foreign minister with his accomplices responsible for trade, law, national security and culture alike. The whole royal council and all the figureheads within the armed forces of Siam, along with spiritual leaders and provincial chiefs were gathered in this room, anxious to hear news from their master. Be them good or bad.
“My trip through Europe is done. With me, I have brought knowledge of today and tomorrow, some of the finest brains in science accompanied me, and foreign ‘investors’, as they would like to be called. I’ve signed countless treaties, talked with countless rulers of the western world, engaged in parties with numerous figureheads in their economies, and learnt from their culture. Gentlemen, we can continue the path we have always trodden, but it will still lead to the same sharp canyon as it would have before. Gentlemen, we need change. We must follow their ways to survive.”
A silent roar filled the room. Such rage had never existed without as much as the flap of a butterfly’s wings rising in volume. What couldn’t be heard was surely felt.

“This canyon can be passed. We only need to build a bridge. With me are the tools, you will have to use them. So sais the king!”

“Kessattry dii trass læ̂w!” The council yelled. So sais the king.

“I have seen what they can do. Now we can do the same. We are not safe here. The king of Denmark himself told me these words. ‘Kinsman, I have seen greater lands than that of Siam fall for the British might. All they say will be law, or they will see to that it will be as such. Your lands are in the interest of a triple entente. The United Kingdom, The Netherlands, and France. The only way to survive them is to be like them. Alone, you are doomed.’ But I said to him, this is Siam. And I am its king. But Siam will not live, if not Siam grows. There will soon be no Siam. There will be more.”
The king stretched himself over the table. A canvas of East Asia was spread across the table.

“We must unite South-East Asia. Dai Nam, Cambodia, Johore and Burma are but a foretaste. We must grow, not only in land, but our economy as well. We can’t rely on farmers of stimulants, grain and lumberjacks to sustain our realm forever. I will therefore disband the army.” Grand marshal Dis Bunnag gave the king a frightened look and no longer held his tongue.

“Your majesty… I fear the Wicked have rubbed you off your senses. Disbanding the army is practically inviting the foreigners as well as our neighbours for imminent strike. We will be chopped up like yesterday’s salad!”

“I have already struck a deal with the British. We will receive their protection. We are not in their interest right now. The army needs to be remade. With new weaponry, new tactics, new drilling, even new uniforms. The small army we have now is not worth the money we throw at it. After that, we need to act quickly with our economic structure. Pull all the men you can from the countryside to our cities, find the wealthiest contributors, and start building manufactories. As simple goods as you can. Lumber, building materials, spirits, glass. Mass produce it, and sell it as bargain with our crops at the trade houses. Ship it off to Europe. I have in my possession numerous of merchant-contacts with the continent. They will buy it.”

“This is far too costly…” The treasurer said in a low voice. “We could never dream to afford such a project.”

“We can’t. But I have assured the British that we will pay back soon.” The room turned silent once more, everyone nervously focusing on the king. “I have secured several big loans from the British crown. They will pay for it all, and we will pay back with our profits.”

“So we should hand them a reason to intrude with our affairs? We might as well become their pawn.”

“How dare you insult the infinite wisdom of your king?!” Mangkut barked. The treasurer stilled his tongue.

“As I was saying, they will see us as their pawn. They will believe us as such. But we need to give them that illusion. Within ten years, gentlemen, we will be the rulers of South-East Asia. I can assure you that. And with their lands and wealth under our monopoly, none can threaten us, and we will be equals with the west. Our theatres will show their plays and embrace their culture. In a decade, they will be playing ours. Our court will dress like them, and mirror their ways. In a decade, they will mirror us! We will be the opium that cradles them into sleep. In a decade, we will be the impassable thistle.”

“What about the Chinese?” Bunnag intervened. The room was quiet once more. The king backed away from the table.

“The mountains of Luang Prabang.”

“What?!” Bunnag cried. “Does his majesty in all his wisdom and grace wish to open up a door, making the Chinese our neighbour?”

“I do. You are the strategist here, not I. My words may be law, but clearly your logic can see beyond words. If we expand, threaten their might, will they not strike right after? We must secure the entrances to our lands first and foremost. When that is done, they can send their hordes to our doors as much and as many as they like. They will never be able to pass. In those mountains, one man counts as ten.”

The meeting had been troublesome. A lot of details had to be dealt with. In short, Siam would turn itself into a cripple, and then heal to become young again. Born anew. And, for the sake of its own survival, it would have to rule all.

It will be, once I get to further in. I admit I made a scarse collection, but I have around 75 screenshots waiting to be used up to 1885. Right now though, we are still at day one. xD

vw22bmw said:

how did you add research points?

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I edited the save file.

josephusdaniels said:

Hey, looking forward to seeing how the AAR develops, like the dramatic writing style too

Click to expand...

Thanks! I do admit I've been slacking, but mostly because I'm trying to find out how to use those picture-upload sites and other random lazy excuses, but I will soon get it going again.

Projekt 919 said:

Just Saying, I Guessing English might ot be your first language, so Sais is actually spelled Says. Nice Writing Style Though

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I'm happy you noticed! :rofl:
Some grammar-flaws may be expected. I do try to keep the language somewhat dramatic and soaring, but one can never learn to really master any other language as much as their own. I will look harder on those things though, since I'm somewhat a grammar-nazi in Swedish after all.

Why thank you! (lol, I wish there was a function to replace your display name. GreatSlayer is a childhood blunder, indeed, how different one is after six years with puberty, military service, masonry and roofing, and university studies x.x)

My Siam game is probably my favourite Vicky game yet. Not only the fact that you have to cower for the might of the British Empire, but also the dire strategy in building your nation. I have read you "I am Siam" AAR and I love every segment of it. Well done for creating an indo-China empire of your own

I do realise a fictional AAR should be both heavier and with more content, and to be honest, I still try to find the yellow-brick road. Because firstly, I obviously don't know my audience here Secondly, it's hard to describe the atmosphere of a culture you don't know so much about. The great thing about fiction however, is that you can manipulate it at your own will. However, at some extent, people will start to question your logic, maybe based on their own experiences. Will be interesting to find that out the hard way xD

Well, as a teacher student, currently occupied in the subjects of media science, after completing courses in the history of civilization, I can only agree with you on the importance of critique. The thesis of one more learnt lifting a lesser would suit this situation just fine. I'm very open to criticism and feedback, even more than the rules of these forums allow actually. So people, bash away! Just don't be too sinister, or sweet old Tullamore Dew may have to kiss me sweet good night.

The following months proved to be struggling for the Siamese people. Not only were they burdened by high taxes and tariffs, for most peasants, the reforms bore with them much ordeal and chaos.

There was no longer any army protecting them. Children that used to help their parents on the fields were sent to schools, and the middle-class was sent to universities. The plan to find investors for factories didn’t work quite as intended. No one really believed in the system that the king had pushed forward, and Siam had no history of such a project that had actually worked. What was even worse, the nobility was taxed, just like ordinary people. The lack of image abroad also frightened even the foreign investors that Rama III had brought to the country from Europe. An emergency solution for the time being was implemented in which the local artisans and other men of the crafting trade were to supply the country with other goods than just opium, cattle and grain. The king stood helpless as he watched his entire country’s future hanging by a thread due to his ambitious plans.

The technologies he had brought from the west however were introduced to the public without much controversy.

The army welcomed the new weaponry and started to reform. Governors throughout the provinces welcomed the idea of railroads, paid for by the royal treasury. New economic philosophies smoothened the administration of the country and things such as steam-powered machines boosted agriculture. However, the debts were peaking. Owing most of the money to Britain, which had promised to overlook the loans for a while, Siam had a steady decrease of currency and a debt of 35.000 pounds standing in London.


Mangkut had been summoned to his brother’s study for a conference.

“Phii Chaay, what’s on your mind?”

“Alas, brother, I think I have failed.” Said the troubled monarch.

“It’s a rough start. Did you expect it to be otherwise?” Mangkut straightened his uniform, designed with a western fashion in order to accommodate the new flow of diplomats from all over the world, and signal that change had been brought to the region.

“I thought they would believe more in themselves. Look at them! Confused cattle too scared to even be lead. Their king speaks, but his words are air. They see change, but do nothing to grasp it. We need those investors, brother, we need them desperately. But they could never trust Siam to handle them, or even sustain them. We have nothing to show off that would impress them. Nothing at all.”

The royal siblings fell in a gloomy mood. Pushing the people too hard and Siam would break. Giving up now would mean so much effort for no gain. Papers swarmed the ebony desk on which the king managed his kingdom, overlooked its reforms, read news of failure after failure and old contacts betrayal. It was one year since his return and nothing really had changed. Only Britain’s protection warded outer threats away.

“I can’t do it alone.” The king said. “I have made a decision to institute a new title of the realm. It will be bestowed upon you.” Mangkut raised his head and looked into his brother’s eyes.

“Anything his majesty seem fit!” He exclaimed. They both rose from their chairs. Rama III handed over a badge order, a tri-star with sapphires on each end, accompanied with a chain of silver.

“I hereby coronate you vice-roy of Siam. Grand overseer of the army, ruler of the royal bureaucracy, head of foreign affairs, and prince of public commerce. Will you accept these titles, with all the duties and burdens to which they may follow?”

“I do what my king asks of me, and I will gladly accept them.” He placed the chain around his neck and nailed the badge on his jacket for all to see.

“I fear there are no ceremonies to be held for such a prestigious occasion, but from now on, you will be most involved in what will happen to the realm. I will be counting on you to make many important decisions, even such decisions you may distain...”

“Fear not, Phii Chaay. I will not waver.” A brotherly smile was exchanged.

“I hope you one day will forgive me. Such a big brother to leave such a big mess for his little brother to clean up. I almost feel ashamed.”

“This is what I always hoped would happen, what I dreamt of every night you were away. We will create paradise and independence for our people. We will use these inventions from the west to be used as only sensible Siamese can. With morals and heart.”

“So you do not wish you had stayed a monk?”

“I left that monastery with some wisdom. I lost my crown, but won my mind. To return would had been to pour water into a sealed cup.”

“And without women!” They shared a laugh. As the evening sun sent its orange rays into the study, both went on their way to prepare themselves for supper.