one at Wat Mongkut in Bangkok (above). Here, a Lotus pond, surrounded by flowering trees and shrubs, acts as a focal point. In the upper left are some Toddy palms, which are still widely planted in Thailand.
The answers to these questions, especially the last one, are not easy. Details in mural paintings provide some information, as do the accounts of visitors like Gervaise. Few written Thai records, however, survived the devastating destruction of Ayutthaya, the old capital, in 1767; and by the time photography arrived, in the mid-19th century, Western and other influences had already begun to change both the concepts and the components of landscape design, along with so much else.
Eighteenth-century Europeans who saw Ayutthaya at its peak of power provide detailed descriptions of the city's architectural splendours and also of such exotic commercial plants as the Betel Nut palm, the Durian and the Mango. They are curiously reticent, though, about the gardens they must have passed through in the royal palace on their way to audiences with King Narai, and the scant information they offer about ornamental plants is both dubious and contradictory. Gervaise, for instance, claims that he saw "roses and carnations, and at all times tuberoses, the scent of which is sweeter than that of ours"; he also mentions Jasmine (both "double and single varieties"), something that is apparently a Gardenia, and "white, red, yellow, and variegated daisies". On the other hand, another early visitor who headed a French embassy to Ayutthaya in 1687 called Simon de la Loubere noted the Tuberoses but says he saw "no roses". He also makes no mention of either Daisies or Carnations (which, even today, are successfully grown only in the far north) and Jasmine he wrote was "so rare that 'tis said there are none but at the King's House". Fairly, but not very helpfully to anyone trying to reconstruct these ancient gardens, he observes that while there might be a lack of familiar European ornamentals, "they have others which are peculiar to them, and which are very agreeable for their beauty and odour", without specifying or describing any of them.
In any discussion of old Thai gardens, it is useful to keep in mind that there were three more or less distinct categories: those of Buddhist monasteries, of royal palaces, and those found around the homes of ordinary people. The plant materials used might overlap to some degree, but the purpose of each differed greatly.
A 17th-century temple at Petchaburi, south of Bangkok: The main building is surrounded by pots containing traditional clipped trees, or mai dat, while in the front is an old Plumeria, a flowering tree found in most temple gardens.
"The numerous courts of the temple open one out of another," wrote an English painter named P A Thompson, describing a Bangkok monastery in the early years of this century. "In some are the rows of small buildings where the monks dwell, each in his own room. Others are filled with leafy trees and artificial rocks and ponds...". Monastery gardens "were conceived as places to promote contemplation and peace of mind, achieved through planting mini-forests of often tall trees in courtyards or in the monks' residential section. Many of these were native flowering trees like Saraca, which has orange blossoms, while others could be used in traditional medicine; following its early introduction from the New World tropics some time in the 16th or 17th centuries, the Plumeria became a common monastery tree, as its fragrant, five-petaled flowers were popular as offerings.
Some temple-garden components were included because of their special significance in Buddhism. Thus most large compounds, then as now, contained at least one Ficus religiosa, or Bodhi tree, under which the Buddha attained enlightenment, as well as a pond or water jars devoted to Nelumbo nucifera, the sacred Lotus, prized as a symbol of perfection by several religions.
Palace gardens, on the other hand, seem to have drawn most of their visual inspiration from Chinese models, perhaps through reports brought back by travellers, or maybe through ancestral memory and tradition. The qualification "seem" is advisable, since except for idealized depictions in old mural paintings, none of the gardens remain. The closest modern equivalent, in Bangkok's Grand Palace compound, has been re-landscaped countless times since its inception, and perhaps the only contemporary features that would be recognizable to the original builders are the trees trained and clipped into odd shapes, a distinctly Chinese horticultural passion.
These clipped trees are what most Thais turn to when they want to add a touch of "traditional" to contemporary gardens. The art of making them is called mai dat. In the 1920s Prince Damrong Rachanuphab, known as the Father of Thai History, noted that it was practised in the 13th and 14th centuries in Sukhothai, the country's first independent capital. A number of different plants are used, both trees and shrubs, the most common being Diospyros rhodocalyx (tako in Thai), which has small, rough leaves; Streblus asper (khoi), the leaves of which are also used for making paper; Tamarind (ma-kham); and Wrightia religiosa (mok), a shrub with scented flowers.
Plumerias like the one seen near this group of religious monuments at Wat Raj Bophit in Bangkok were introduced to Southeast Asia from the New World tropics, probably by the Portuguese, but quickly adapted to local conditions.
Ficus religiosa, the Bodhi tree, under which the Buddha attained enlightenment, is regarded as sacred and therefore forbidden to other gardens. The tree can be seen in nearly every temple compound, often wrapped with a cloth to signify its holiness. The one shown here is at Bangkok's Wat Po.
Nine popular mai dat designs evolved during the Ayutthaya period, each usually consisting of an odd number of clipped leaf formations on branches emerging from the trunk. Though the results are often displayed in decorative pots like a Japanese bonsai, the two art forms are very different; whereas the bonsai (always potted) is a miniature tree that aims to replicate the original in shape, the mai dat, in a pot or as part of a landscape, is angular and abstract, and like traditional Thai floral arrangements amounts to a re-creation rather than an imitation of nature.
Another traditional feature—also of probable Chinese inspiration—that can still be seen in some gardens is the khao mor, an artificial mountain made of pebbles or larger stones cemented together to form a whole, often with waterfalls and pools and adorned with mai dat or ordinary plants. These may be miniature versions in shallow pots or sizeable creations incorporated into the garden design; a large one in the inner part of the Grand Palace was the site of several important ceremonies such as the cutting of the top-knot when children reached puberty.
A classic central-style Thai house. The art of clipping plants like the shrub on the right is known as mai dat; inspired by the Chinese, it is believed to date from the first Thai capital of Sukhothai.
A clipped tree at Bangkok's Grand Palace, perhaps the most authentic example of a classic Thai garden, originally built toward the end of the 18th century. A number of plants are trained in this way, the one here being Diospyros rhodocalyx, popularly known as the Siamese Rough Bush.
As in China, Thai palaces consisted of various enclosed sections, each serving a particular function. The outer areas were relatively bare of greenery, often paved with cobblestones and devoted to government offices and audience halls; the real gardens lay behind high walls, designed for the private pleasure of the King, his wives, and their attendants (which is perhaps why the French visitors quoted earlier never saw them).
Clipped mai dat specimens in the Wat Po enclosure.
An artificial mountain: such creations, called khao mor, were popular features in traditional Thai palace and temple gardens and ranged in size from small to quite large.
No record remains of the gardens in the royal palace of Ayutthaya, but they were probably similar to the early ones in the Bangkok