Immediately on my return to Chantaboun, where I was again received with open arms by the good AbbÉ Raufaing, a French missionary associated as colleague with Father Larmandy, I began to collect information as to the best route to Battambong, the chief town of a province of the same name, which, above a century ago, was wrested from Cambodia by the Siamese. I made an agreement with some pagan Annamite fishermen to give them thirty ticals for taking me from Chantaboun to Komput, a province of Cambodia. The Annamite Christians demanded forty ticals, and provisions both going and returning. After taking leave of the abbÉ, who had shown me every possible kindness and attention on each of my visits, I embarked at noon, in spite of a heavy rain, as I wished to take advantage of a high tide. We arrived in the harbour at seven in the evening, and were detained there for two days by a contrary wind, too violent to allow us to leave without danger.

Two days later we reached Ko-Khut, where, again, pouring rain and a head wind compelled us to anchor about 100 metres from the shore in a small bay which was far from promising much security to our little craft. Our position was not agreeable; our frail bark, rudely tossed by the furious waves, seemed every moment in danger of being dashed upon the rocks. Our baggage, to which we had assigned the best place for preservation from wet, occupied three-fourths of the boat, and we were crowded five of us together in the bows, with no better shelter than some palm-leaves sewn together, through which the water dripped, and kept us continually soaked. The rain falling without intermission, we could not keep the fire alight to cook our rice, and for four days remained half-lying in the boat, scarcely able to move in the narrow space left for us, and our clothes clinging to us with wet. At last, on the fifth day, we had the pleasure of seeing the sky clear up and the wind change. About two o’clock in the afternoon, foreseeing a fine night, and having revived the drooping courage of my men by a stiff dose of arrack, we weighed anchor and left Ko-Khut with a fair breeze. It was quite a comfort to be able to move and breathe freely, and I spent a part of the night under my little awning of palm-leaves, enjoying the beauty of the heavens and the rapid movement of the vessel. At daybreak we perceived, about ten miles distant, the first of the islands of Koh-Kong. It is smaller than Koh-Chang, and neither so imposing in general appearance nor having such a splendid range of peaked hills. The island is nearly a desert, but it produces the beautiful cardamom, as also gamboge, collected from the bamboos, which the natives split open when hard.

After passing the island of Phu-Quoc, which belongs to Cochin China, the view became more and more beautiful; land surrounded us on all sides, and we seemed to be sailing on a lake. The scenery in this gulf is truly enchanting. Eastward extend the coast and islands of Cochin China as far as Ita Jienne, and to the north and west are those of Cambodia, crowned by a mountain 900 metres in height, which is so like Sabab that Phrai called out to the pilot, “You are taking us back to Chantaboun; there is Mount Sabab.” We were not, however, long permitted to enjoy the splendid picture here displayed before us, for very shortly after our entrance into the gulf large black clouds, gathering at the summit of the mountain, by degrees hid it entirely from view, the thunder growled, and a terrific wind arose, which hurried our boat along at an extraordinary rate. The pilot at the helm shook all over, and begged for arrack to sustain his strength and courage. When the storm had lasted half an hour a heavy rain began to descend, and with it the wind moderated. We had now arrived at the mouth of the river on which Komput is situated.

It happened to be the day fixed for the King of Cambodia, then in Komput, to pass in review all the ships lying in the roads; but for some time he had been detained by the rough weather in a sort of apartment erected for him on piles, in a place where the water was shallow. As we passed the Custom-house, we perceived the royal cortÉge advancing towards a large junk, which his Majesty was having built as a trading-vessel for Singapore.

The river leading to Komput is about 300 metres in width, but, rising in the neighbouring mountains, its course is but very limited. The magnificent tree called by the Siamese Mai-Jakienne, and much prized by the Chinese for furnishing masts for their junks, is found in great abundance in the forests bordering its banks. There are frequently six or seven ships loading at one time in the roads, so that both Chinese and European vessels may be constantly seen going up and down the stream.

Though Komput is now the only port of Cambodia, it is far from being as full of life and bustle as Bangkok, for the town boasts only 300 houses at most, and a population scarcely equal to that of Chantaboun. All its little commerce is supplied by Lower Cochin China, the ports of which are almost always closed against Europeans, so that rice, which is imported in a sort of contraband manner, some tons of gamboge, a little ivory, fish taken in the lake by the Annamites, a small quantity of cotton, and the valuable wood above mentioned, constitute the whole of the commerce of the town; and I venture to predict that, when the ports of Annam are thrown open to Europeans, the Chinese merchants will abandon Komput altogether. And yet, under a better system of government, this country might supply a great number of articles, of which I will speak hereafter. It will not probably be long before what remains of this unfortunate land will fall under the dominion of some other power. Possibly, France has her eyes fixed upon it, with the view of annexing it to her possessions in Lower Cochin China.

The comparative exemption from heavy taxes and duties which the Cambodians enjoy, when compared with the Siamese, made me imagine I should be able to live here in comfort and abundance; but I was disappointed. Almost every vice seemed prevalent at Komput—pride, insolence, cheating, cowardice, servility, excessive idleness, are the attributes of this miserable people. It is often remarked that no one should judge a country through which he is merely a traveller, and that only those are capable of doing so who have resided in it for some time. I admit that, in the first case, one is liable to make mistakes; but I state here what I see, and give my impressions as I receive them, leaving it to more experienced travellers to correct me where I am in error. Nevertheless, the first impression often proves ineffaceable, and I may mention that frequently I have trusted less to my own judgment than to the experience of others.

There are few travellers in Europe, America, or probably anywhere else, who have not had cause to complain of the offensive manner in which custom-house officers perform their duties, and often exceed them. In Europe they earn their daily bread by annoying in every possible way the unfortunates who are compelled, for the sake of peace, to submit to their insolence and tyranny: here they gain it by begging; they are licensed beggars. “A little salt-fish, a little arrack, a little betel, if you please,”—such are the petitions; and the more you give, the less strict will the search be.

After having sailed up the pretty river for about a mile, we came in sight of a house covered with creepers, and surmounted by a cross, which indicated the residence of the AbbÉ Hestrest, the head of the foreign mission here. Reader, have you journeyed in foreign lands? Have you ever for a time, more or less long, been separated from your friends and relatives—shut out from civilized society? Have you been tossed about by tempests or buffeted by your fellow-men? Have you narrowly escaped some great danger? Have you been unhappy? Have you lost some one very dear to you? In one word, have you suffered? If you have, you will appreciate the feelings with which the solitary wanderer welcomes the divine cross, the heart-stirring emblem of his religion. It is to him a friend, a consoler, a father, a brother; at sight of it the soul expands, and the more you have suffered the better you will love it. You kneel down, you pray, you forget your griefs, and you feel that God is with you. This is what I did.

I had letters to the AbbÉ Hestrest from several of the missionaries in Siam. We therefore anchored, and I landed; but the nine days’ inactivity to which I had been forced to submit had so cramped my limbs, that for a time I had almost lost the use of them, and could scarcely walk. The abbÉ received me like a brother, and offered me accommodation in his humble abode until I could find lodgings elsewhere. The first piece of news which he imparted to me was, that France was at war with Austria. I did not even know that there had been a difference between the two Governments.

Scarcely had I landed when the return of the king from his aquatic excursion was announced. The AbbÉ Hestrest conducted me to the banks of the river; and as soon as his Majesty perceived a stranger by the side of the priest, he gave orders to his rowers to approach the shore, and, when within hail, addressed the abbÉ:

“Who is the stranger with you?”

“Sire, a Frenchman,” replied my companion.

“A Frenchman?” repeated the king, quickly. Then turning to me, “You are French?”

“Yes, sire,” I answered, in Siamese.

“Monsieur comes from Paris,” said the abbÉ; “but he has recently visited Siam.”

“And what does he come to my kingdom for?”

“He has a particular mission, which has nothing to do with politics; it is merely to see the country. M. Mouhot will soon wait upon your majesty.”

After a few minutes’ silence, the king, waving his hand, and saying “Au revoir,” passed on.

I was at first afraid that the abbÉ had made me pass for a less humble and modest individual than I really was, and I should be forbidden the kingdom. The very name of France is full of dread to these poor monarchs; and this present one lived in daily fear of seeing the French flag waving in the roads. He is about sixty years of age, short and stout. He wears his hair cut rather close, and his countenance is good-natured, mild, and intelligent.[13]

The king was reclining on a thick cushion in the stern of his boat, which was of European build. Four rowers and a dozen young girls were with him; and among the latter I remarked one, whose features were delicate and pretty, dressed in the European style, and wearing long hair. She would have been reckoned a pretty girl anywhere, and was, I fancy, the favourite, for she was in a richer costume than the others, and covered with jewels. She also occupied the place nearest the king, and seemed to pay great attention to her old adorer. The rest were fat, with bloated faces and vulgar features, and had their teeth blackened by betel and arrack. Besides a kind of petticoat, the corners of which are looped up and fastened to the sash behind, some wore a tight jacket, white or blue, buttoning over the chest; and had a red scarf, which, according to the custom of the Siamese and Cambodian women, was passed round the body under the arms, and tied at the bosom.

Behind the king’s boat, in no apparent order, and at long intervals, followed those of several mandarins, who were not distinguished in any particular manner. One boat alone, manned by Chinese, and commanded by a fat man of the same nation, holding in his hand a halberd surmounted by a crescent, attracted my attention, as it headed the escort. This man was the famous Mun Suy, chief of the pirates, and a friend of the king. I was told that, two years before, he had been compelled, owing to some iniquities not very well known, to fly from Amoy, and had arrived at Komput with a hundred followers, adventurers and rovers of the sea like himself. After having remained there for some time, keeping the whole place in terror, and extorting by menaces all he could from the market people, he conceived the project of seizing upon and burning the town, and putting all the inhabitants to the sword, intending then to retreat with his spoils, if not strong enough to hold his ground. Fortunately the plot was discovered, and the Cambodians from the neighbourhood were armed and assembled in readiness to defend the place. Mun Suy, not liking the aspect of affairs, embarked with his band in his junk, and fell suddenly on Itatais. The market was sacked in a minute; but the inhabitants, recovering from their surprise, repulsed the pirates and drove them back to their vessel with the loss of several men. Mun Suy then returned to Komput, gained over by presents first the governor and afterwards the king himself, and ever since has carried on his piratical acts with impunity, making his name dreaded by all around. Loud complaints arose from the neighbouring countries, and the king, either overawed by the pirate, or for protection against the Annamites, appointed him commander of the coast-guard. Henceforth, therefore, he became a licensed robber, and murder and rapine increased to such a degree, that the King of Siam sent a naval expedition to Komput to capture the malefactor and his gang. Two only were taken and executed. As for their leader, he was hidden, they say, in the palace.

Some days after my arrival I was installed in a house built by the king’s orders, and at his own expense, for the accommodation of European merchants, who, however, do not often visit Komput. AbbÉ Hestrest conducted me through the city. The market-place, occupied chiefly by the Chinese, is covered by a number of thatched huts built of bamboo, in which are exhibited for sale, glass, china, hatchets, knives, Chinese parasols, and other articles of merchandise, native and foreign. The dealers in fish and vegetables, and the Chinese restaurateurs, dispute the street with pigs, hungry dogs, and children of all ages and both sexes, in a state of nature, and dabbling in the mud. Mingled with these are native women, repulsively ugly, and effeminate and emaciated Chinamen, with haggard cheeks, dragging themselves painfully along to the opium-merchant’s, the barber’s, or some gambling-house, three requisites to the very existence of a Chinese. All the commerce is in their hands; and you meet ten of them to one native.

I was introduced by the abbÉ at several Chinese houses, where we were most politely received. The king was expecting a visit from me, and had sent several persons to find out who I was; his idea being, that I was an officer of the French army in Cochin China, despatched from thence to gain information about the country. I begged M. Hestrest to accompany me to see the king; for which purpose we proceeded a mile and a half up the river to Kompong-Bay, which is the Cambodian part of the town, and the residence of the governor, and where his Majesty and suite were encamped.

When we arrived he was holding a kind of levÉe, in a building constructed of bamboo with some elegance, and covered with red cloth, but the interior of which looked more like a theatre than a royal abode. Finding at the door neither sentinel nor porter, we entered without being announced. The king was seated on an old European chair, with two officers on each side of him, who from time to time offered him, kneeling, a lighted cigarette, or some betel, which they kept always ready. At a little distance stood his guards, some holding pikes ornamented at the top with white tufts; others with sheathed sabres in their hands. The ministers and mandarins knelt a few steps below his Majesty. On our entrance, chairs similar to the king’s were placed for us close to him. Like his subjects, he generally wears nothing but the langouti, the native dress. His was composed of yellow silk, confined at the waist by a magnificent belt of gold studded with precious stones. At Cambodia, as at Siam, it is necessary to offer presents, if one desires to gain the royal favour. I had accordingly brought with me an English walking-stick gun, as a gift for the king. It at once attracted his notice.

“Pray show me that cane,” he said, in Cambodian.

I gave it to him.

“Is it loaded?” asked he, seeing it was a fire-arm.

“No, sire.”

He then begged for a cap and snapped it; unscrewed the barrel and examined it with great attention.

“If it would be agreeable to his Majesty,” I said to M. Hestrest, “I shall be happy to offer it to the king.”

The abbÉ interpreted my words.

“What did it cost?” asked the king.

“Sire, I dare not ask M. Mouhot. In Europe no one tells the price of what he gives.”

The king then begged to look at my watch, and, after inspecting it attentively, again asked the price. The abbÉ then alluded to my design of visiting Udong, the capital of Cambodia, and of journeying through the country.

“Go to Udong; go about,” said the king, laughing. “Very well.” He then asked my name, and tried to write it; on which I drew out my pocket-book and gave him one of my cards. He seemed to wish for the pocket-book, and I presented him with it.

“Sire,” said M. Hestrest, “as M. Mouhot is going to Udong, perhaps your Majesty will deign to facilitate his journey.”

“Willingly. How many carriages do you want?”

“Three will be sufficient, sire.”

“And for what day?”

“The day after to-morrow, sire.”

“Take a note of that, and give orders about it,” said the king to his secretary. He then rose, and, shaking hands with us, retired. We returned to our hotel. I say hotel, for it is the only lodging for strangers; and M. de Montigny, when ambassador at Komput, lived there, indications of which were afforded by the inscriptions scratched on the walls by the sailors belonging to the expedition, such as “Hotel of the king and ambassadors;” “Here is lodging for man, horse, and elephant gratis pro Deo;” “Good beds, sofas, and dining-tables on the floor;” “Sea-water bathing—in the river;” “Good table—in the market;” “Good wine—at Singapore;” “Nothing—for the servants.”