Loy Krathong. The Loy Krathong festivals were established by King Pra Luang, the founder of the Thot Katin ceremonies, and they originally occurred in connection with them; but they have gradually become separated from them, and have now an independent existence of their own. Whereas the Katin ceremonies owe their origin to a superstition propagated by worshippers of the Buddhist faith, the Loy Krathong festivities are an outgrowth of Brahminical worship. The old "wat" visitations, with the presentation of robes to the priests, originated, as we have seen, in a peculiar belief as to the actions of an ascetic priesthood, and were afterwards definitely established as annual occurrences by the king. Their connection with the ceremony about to be described, was due to accidental circumstances that did not arise for several years after the initiation of the older festival. The later ceremonies which were connected primarily with the Katin, and which have now become a separate function, originated, according to the late king's account, in the following manner.

In the reign of Somdet Pra Luang there lived a famous Brahmin who was noted in the capital, and in all the surrounding country, for his great wisdom. There was no branch of knowledge whose depths he had not fathomed. He could read the stars, cast horoscopes, foretell eclipses, and fulfil the duties of a weather prophet. He was well versed in the mysteries of the theory and practice of medicine, and knew the names, habitats, and virtuous properties of all plants that grew. As a theologian he could explain the origin of all things, and discourse upon the subtle doctrines of all the religions then known. He was an authority upon law, could tell what had been the customs of many people, and devise plans for firm and wise government. As a scholar of ancient practices he was unrivalled, and knew all the details of the growth and development of all religious and social usages. Such a man found great favour in the eyes of the sovereign, who made use of the Brahmin's great wisdom in the management of his subjects. He gave him many honours and appointed him to fill many important positions. Amongst many offices that he held, two were given him on account of his unrivalled knowledge, namely, those of chief physician, and chief judge.

This encyclopÆdic philosopher had a young and graceful daughter whom he called Nobamas. And as became the child of so wise a father, she also was well skilled in many arts and sciences. Her beauty was the subject of every song, and her name was in everyone's mouth. The whole nation were enthusiastic in their praise of her, and so great were her charms and abilities that even her own sex regarded her not with envy, but were proud that one of their number should be distinguished. She was almost as learned as her father and was wont to discourse upon all subjects with great intelligence. She was a clever poetess, a skilful musician, and an artist of great power. And when the poets of the country had exhausted all their vocabulary in describing her beauty and her talents, they began to sing of the honours she ought to receive, and greatest of all these was the honour of becoming the wife of the king. One day the king listened to a group of musicians who were merrily singing, and the subject of their song was the wondrous Nobamas, fit only for the wife of the sovereign. The song scorned the idea of her wedding any one of less degree, and eulogised her to such an extent that the listening monarch's curiosity became very great. He returned to his palace, and sought for the ladies of his household. He told them all he had heard, and enquired if any of them knew anything of this peerless creature. To the king's eager enquiries they returned answer that the song was true, but that no words could adequately describe the charms of the Brahmin maiden. The king could no longer restrain his desire to possess so fair a creature, and he sent the most elderly ladies of his retinue, according to the custom of the country, to ask her father for her hand.

The ladies went, and their mission was entirely successful. The old counsellor who had received so many favours from his sovereign was glad to have an opportunity of showing his gratitude in this way, so he willingly presented his renowned daughter to his royal master. He sent her to the king, who ever afterwards treated her with great tenderness and affection, and soon made her chief of the ladies in the palace. They both of them enjoyed the greatest happiness when in each other's company, and whenever Nobamas was not engaged in fulfilling her duties in her department of the palace, she held converse with the king, delighting him with her great wisdom and knowledge, and charming him with her compositions in music and poetry.

Soon after their marriage there occurred a celebration of the Katin ceremonies, and the king desired the fair Nobamas to accompany him on his water procession. Now, although this beautiful wife had married a Buddhist king, she still remained true to her Brahmin faith, and worshipped her own idols and spirits according to the precepts her father had taught her in her early childhood. It was a Brahminical custom that, at the end of the year, all people should prepare suitable offerings to present to the genii of the river, in order to obtain pardon and the absolution of their sins. Towards the end of the year, when the people were getting ready to celebrate the Katin, Nobamas secretly prepared to perform her own religious rites, and for this purpose she made a small boat-like structure, called a "Krathong." This she formed out of plantain leaves, and loaded it with paddy husks to make it float in stable equilibrium. She stitched strips of plantain leaves together, and pinned them round the edge of the little boat by way of ornament. Over the ballast she spread smooth clean plantain leaves, and on this green leafy deck she placed a little cargo of betel-nut, sirih leaf, parched rice, and sweet-scented flowers. She took several fresh fruits of a fleshy character, such as the papaya and the pumpkin, and deftly carved them into representations of fruits, flowers, and animals, and piled them up in a conical arrangement in the centre. The artificial flowers she stained with the juices of other plants to make them resemble real blossoms. Here and there she fastened one of her own sketches or paintings, and finally finished the work by adorning it with storied umbrellas of paper, tiny flags, toy implements, tapers, and scented incense sticks.

On the first evening of the Katin ceremony the boats were arranged in front of the palace landing, as usual, and the state barge with the glass throne was moored there, pending the arrival of the king. Suddenly everyone's attention was attracted by a strange-looking object that was being floated to the royal landing. It was the Krathong that Nobamas had made. She intended to light the tapers and the incense sticks, and send the float adrift to bear her message to the spirits, at the same time that the royal party should set out to visit the temples. But as soon as the Krathong was come to the landing, all the ladies, and the members of the royal family, who were assembled there to wait for the coming of the king, crowded round it, and begged to be allowed to examine it, so Nobamas had to explain the design and the meaning of this, her handiwork. So great was the interest exhibited by everyone in the pretty toy, that no one noticed the arrival of the king, and he seeing the crowd so noisy and so attracted, enquired what was the cause of their merriment and amusement. Someone told him that everyone was busily admiring a float that his beautiful consort had made. He then ordered the object to be brought to him that he might also see and hear about it. When he saw it he could not find sufficient words to express his admiration of the skill that had designed and constructed it. He requested to be allowed to keep it, and Nobamas knelt before him and presented him with the decorated krathong. He again praised the work, but more still did he praise her who had made it. But when he had examined it a little longer, he discovered its purpose, and said, "This is the offering of a lady of the Brahmin faith." And Nobamas answered him, saying, "That is so, for I am a Brahmin, and hitherto Your Majesty has not interfered with my religious belief, so at this season of the year, I have made this little krathong with the intention of floating it down the river as an offering to the spirits of the water, as is right and proper for a maiden of the Brahmin faith to do."

Pra Luang was a good Buddhist and a devout believer in the teachings of his own religion. Still, the krathong looked very pretty, and he had a great desire to light the incense sticks and the tapers and send it adrift as Nobamas had intended. But he was afraid of the opinions of the people. For if he should make this offering to the spirits and not to Buddha, he was afraid the people might upbraid him and accuse him of having abandoned his religion for that of his wife. But he could not resist the temptation to see what the krathong would look like when it was illuminated, so, not without some little misgiving, he lit the lights upon the leafy boat. And still he was not satisfied, for he wanted to see it drifting away into the darkness, with the tapers reflecting their glittering light in the flowing waters. Therefore he cast about in his mind for some excuse to explain his actions, and presently he spoke in a loud voice that all around him, whether upon the landing-stage, the banks of the river, or in the boats before him, might hear, and said, "To all the property, such as temples, pagodas, and spires that are dedicated to Buddha on the banks of this river; to all his sacred relics, such as his bones and hair, wherever they may be in the subterranean regions concealed from the eye, under the river, or in places which Buddha has pressed with his feet, when moving in his might or in his natural state; to his footprints in this river, or in the ocean which receives the stream of this river,—to them I offer this krathong and its contents as worthy of the great Buddha. To him and to the relics and to his property I reverently dedicate this krathong. And whatever merit I may obtain by this deed, that merit I do not appropriate for myself, but give to the genii, in whose honour the krathong was first made by Nobamas, for I too reverence the spirits she intended to honour." Having finished this speech in defence of his actions, and having satisfied his own conscience, he placed the brilliantly illuminated little float in the water, for the stream to carry away to the sea.

But all these proceedings, though very complimentary to Nobamas herself, did not in any way realise her idea as to what was due to the water-spirits from one who was a Brahmin. As she had now no offering, she at once set to work to make one. She hastily gathered fresh leaves and bound them together into a square, shallow box. She cut bits of banana stem to fasten to it, and in the middle she quickly stuck a few tapers and joss sticks, borrowed from the people round about her. Into the boat she cast anything she could find, lit the tapers, made her vows and resolves mentally, and cast the toy adrift to follow the one the king had already launched. The monarch saw it, and knew who had made it so quickly, for there was but one woman in the land who had the knowledge and the skill to construct a new krathong so easily. He was loud in his praise, and the people stirred by the example thus set them, took everything that they could find that would float, stuck lighted tapers and incense sticks in them, and put them in the water, till presently the river was all ablaze with twinkling lights, and the air was full of the joyful sound of merry laughter.

The king was highly delighted with the sight, and ordered that it should occur annually in honour of the wise and beautiful Nobamas. And he entreated the genii of the river to take possession of the hearts and minds of all his subjects at this season of the year, for ever and ever, and compel them to hold a great festival, which he named "Khan Loi Phra Prathip Krathong." "Krathong," as previously explained, means "a little basket-like boat containing small flowers and other offerings suitable for the water-spirits;" "loi" means "to send adrift" or "to float," and "prathip" is derived from the Pali word "padipo", meaning "a lamp" or "taper." There are those in the country who say that all the descendants of those who witnessed the first ceremony, are slaves of Pra Luang, and that at the proper season their minds are forced to obey his wishes, and send adrift the taper-bearing floats.

For seven hundred years the ceremony has existed, but its details have changed with each succeeding generation. A few years after its initiation, the king ceased his visitation to all temples that were not near at hand, and all the fireworks that used to be let off on his arrival were brought together to make a gorgeous display at the palace landing. The king sat on a throne to watch the general amusement, and then sent adrift one or more krathongs.

Since the foundation of Bangkok the ceremonies of Thot Katin and Loy Krathong have branched off from each other. The late king introduced several changes; for, whereas previously, all the floats were provided by his own officials at their private expense, those sent off by the king himself were made at his expense, and greatly reduced in number. The common people, of course, please themselves as to the number and value of the krathongs they send adrift.

At present the festival occurs twice each year; first on the third, fourth, and fifth day of October, and again on the first, second and third of November. The people have various theories as to why they make offerings to the spirits of the water by means of illuminated krathongs and floating fireworks, though they all agree that it is a good way of making merit. About midnight or early morning the king comes down to the royal landing in front of the palace, and pushes off a big krathong, whose tapers he has lit with his own hand. The royal children and princes follow suit. As they float away into the darkness, they give the signal to the thousands of people who are waiting to do the same thing. Night is soon turned into day. Fireworks are thrown into the water, the bright little lights sail over the dancing waves, and the river is soon dotted all over as far as the eye can reach, with lights of many colours, that twinkle, fizz, or splutter for a long, long time. The krathongs take many shapes, and illuminated palaces, ships, rafts, lotuses, and boats ride on the river, carrying their little offerings of food and tobacco as a gracious gift to the "mother of the waters", amidst the blare of trumpets and the shouts of many voices. Away by the sea shore, the crested billows bear the same offerings out to sea, to be soon lost and drowned in the deep dark ocean.

Eclipses. Whenever an eclipse occurs, the natives turn out of their houses and indulge in a very noisy demonstration. Though their actions on these occasions cannot be described as strictly of a religious character, yet as most of the so-called religious ceremonies have been developed from superstitions, the superstition that forms the basis of the popular theory of eclipses may here be fitly given. The native astrologers are able to calculate the time of these astronomical phenomena, with considerable accuracy; but as they do not understand the use of logarithms, their methods are tedious and lengthy. When an eclipse occurs, the people beat drums and gongs, shout their loudest, let off fire-arms, and in fact make any and every noise they can think of. Some people say that a demon is eating up the moon, or the sun, as the case may be, and that only in this way can they frighten the monster away, and so prevent the loss of these brilliant luminaries. But there is another story quite as fantastic, which also attempts to account for a lunar eclipse.

In times long ago, so long ago that no man knows any one who can remember them, it was the custom of the Sun to descend to earth and hold daily conversation with his younger brothers, the Emperor of China and the King of Siam. These two potentates held long and weighty consultations with the renowned and brilliant king Sol, taking his advice on all matters of importance, discussing with him all the details of state management and intrigue, and seeking his aid when foreign powers attacked their thrones. The stars and planets formed the retinue of the solar monarch, and were employed as ambassadors both in times or war and of peace.

At that time the King of Siam dwelt at Ayuthia, then the capital of all the kingdom. Owing to the constant visits of the sun, life was longer and less liable to disease. Such was the vitality imparted by the warmth and cheerfulness of his rays, that no man began to talk of growing old until he had lived for about two thousand years.

The King having reigned peacefully and with great success for over two hundred years, decided to abdicate in favour of his son, who was a mere youth of not more than one hundred and sixty or seventy years of age. Now after this young boy had ascended the throne, old King Sol made up his mind to do his best to assist the youthful sovereign in the difficult art of right government. To this end he kept his watchful eye ever fixed upon the young king and his doings. He never slept, or took a holiday, but hour by hour, and day by day, poured forth his shining light in loving guardianship of his royal nephew. The services of the stars were no longer required. When they found themselves of no importance in the administration of government, they became suspicious and angry. They met together and formed a league, vowed to revolt against their liege lord, and to proclaim a republic at the earliest opportunity. Like all true conspirators they hid their deep designs, and while pretending sleep, they only blinked and snoozed, ever on the alert for anything which they might use for the disadvantage of their powerful monarch. As they lay in wait, they said one to another, "Why does our king never go to sleep now? Aforetime he took his nightly rest as all respectable monarchs should. Why these sleepless hours?"

It happened that the old King, who had abdicated the throne, had a daughter of the most lovable disposition, who was also exceedingly fair to look upon. She was called Rosy Morn. Whenever she came to her father, he lost any lingering desires for regal pomp and splendour, for her presence was refreshing to him above all things on earth. No one except his own family had ever looked upon her. Beautiful and good, chaste and simple, she was beloved by all her relatives, with a love that was half worship.

Her days were spent in rural pursuits of charming simplicity. She gathered flowers and made wreaths of them to deck her own fair head; she talked to the birds who never hid their gorgeous plumage when she approached them; and she listened to the voices of the spirits that frolic in the rain-drops and the dew, as they chattered and laughed in every floral cup. One day, having sung her father to rest, she wandered forth to stroll in the still green woods around her home.

In these woods there was a cavern, whose entrance, hidden by a mass of tropical foliage, had never been discovered by any one except Rosy Morn, who, keen lover of nature as she was, knew every secret nook and corner of the whole forest. Through this secluded cavern there ran a brook, clear as crystal and pure beyond description. Whenever the maiden was tired of wandering through the woods, she made her way to this safe retreat and bathed her tiny feet in the clear cool water. Thus happiness and peace attended her day by day, and her mind, pure and tender, knew no other excitements except those of simple wonder and delight.

But one day a butterfly of unusually brilliant appearance flittered across her path. It was larger than any she had ever seen before, and the colours of its wings were of the most resplendent tints. She chased this wonderful little creature, and tried to catch it, but without success. It flew from palm to palm, and from fern to fern, now hiding itself behind some radiant blossom, now poising itself high out of reach upon some feathery branch. Suddenly a light appeared, in whose brilliancy the hues of the butterfly were lost, and the eyes of the maiden dazzled so that she could not see. It was the chariot of old Sol coming over a neighbouring hill. She turned and fled, and retiring to the cave, quite unconscious that she had been observed by anyone, she sought to cool her heated body and refresh her weary limbs by bathing in the sparkling waters that ran through her retreat.

But old Sol had seen her, and being struck by her wondrous beauty, the like of which in all his rambles he had never beheld before, he drove after her with furious speed, and discovered the place where she had concealed herself. He entered into the cavern, but as she was lying down asleep after her bath, he did not disturb her, but sat down quietly by her side, and waited patiently for her to open her eyes. When she awoke, she was startled by his dazzling presence. He calmed her fears, revealed to her all his majesty and power, and then cast himself before her in the humble suppliant attitude of a devout lover. The maiden, unable to resist either the glory of his station, or the sincerity of his submission to herself, accepted him as her lover, with great shyness and trembling. They plighted their troth, and wandered arm in arm about the cavern. They agreed to keep their engagement secret, and to meet regularly at noon every day in that place, until such time as it should be convenient to disclose their intention to their friends. For about two thousand years they kept their betrothal a secret, but at last, through some mischance, the stars, eager for revolt, got an inkling of their monarch's misconduct. They set a watch, and one day when he was paying his accustomed day visit to his sweetheart, they seized his chariot, and driving with furious speed, they rushed home to spread the news. Elated with their discovery they proclaimed aloud all they knew of Sol's behaviour, and declared a republic.

When the glorious monarch had said farewell to Rosy Morn for that day, he found that his carriage had been stolen, and that his conduct was known. He wept bitterly, shedding tears of pure gold. The mountains, on whose majestic forms he had so often cast his cheery, warming rays, now took pity on the distressed king, and opened a passage in the earth by means of which he could return to his home in safety. Every day he came to visit his sweetheart, driving in a new chariot through the mountain caverns. Ever as he drove along he cried aloud in sorrow for his misfortunes, and ever as he wept his tears fell down to earth in streams of purest gold. These precious tears hidden away in the ground are now the gold mines of Siam. It took him twelve hours to get home. Then he turned, and rode back during the night, taking another twelve hours' journey just to get a momentary glimpse at the faithful maiden. All this time Rosy Morn wandered about in caverns and mountains also. Her heart was heavy with her grief, and she wept bitterly. Her tears fell wherever she walked, in streams of purest silver, giving rise to the silver mines of the country.

After a long time the revolted stars made a compact with their lawful king. For two weeks each month the maiden was to live with King Sol in some distant home, but during the other half of the month the stars were to be permitted to gaze upon her lovely face and call her moon. One other stipulation was made—namely, that Sol should never kiss Rosy Morn whenever there was any one looking on. But this latter part of the agreement he occasionally breaks, for during the eclipse of the moon he is seen by many thousands of people, impudently kissing her silver face before the public gaze. Then the dwellers upon earth make a great noise to remind him of his promise, and to let him know how very shocked they are.

Though this story exists in the native legends, it is not generally accepted as giving the true theory of the eclipse; the idea of sun- or moon-eating demons being far more popular. But this latter story also gives an account of the origin of the gold and silver mines of Siam. The cave in which Rosy Morn and Old Sol held their daily meetings, is said to be near Ayuthia. Until a few years ago, pilgrimages were made to this cave, and into a bottomless pit, every one according to his rank, cast in gold and silver as a memorial of the day when silver and precious metals were first discovered in the kingdom of Siam.