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THE PACIFICATION OF BURMA
[Illustration: _Picket on the Chin Hills._
LONDON: EDWARD ARNOLD.]
THE PACIFICATION OF BURMA
by
SIR CHARLES CROSTHWAITE, K.C.S.I.
Chief Commissioner of Burma, 1887-1890
Member of the Council of India, etc., etc.
With Illustrations and Maps
London
Edward Arnold
1912
(All rights reserved)
PREFACE
Upper Burma was invaded and annexed in the year 1885. The work hardly
occupied a month. In the following year the subjugation of the people
by the destruction of all formidable armed resistance was effected;
lastly, the pacification of the country, including the establishment of
an orderly government with peace and security, occupied four years.
As head of the civil administration, I was mainly concerned with this
last phase.
It would be a difficult task to give a continuous history of the
military operations by which the country was subjugated. The resistance
opposed to our troops was desultory, spasmodic, and without definite
plan or purpose. The measures taken to overcome it necessarily were
affected by these characteristics, although they were framed on
definite principles. A history of them would resolve itself into a
number of more or less unconnected narratives.
A similar difficulty, but less in degree, meets the attempt to record
the measures which I have included in the term "pacification." Certain
definite objects were always before us. The policy to be followed for
their attainment was fixed, and the measures and instruments by which
it was to be carried out were selected and prepared. But I have found
it best not to attempt to follow any order, either chronological or
other, in writing this narrative.
My purpose in writing has been to give an intelligible narrative of
the work done in Burma in the years following the annexation. It was
certainly arduous work done under great difficulties of all kinds,
and, from the nature of the case, with less chance of recognition or
distinction than of disease or death. The work was, I believe, well
done, and has proved itself to be good.
My narrative may not attract many who have no connection with Burma.
But for those who served in Burma during the period covered by it,
whether soldiers or civilians, it may have an interest, and especially
for those still in the Burma Commission and their successors.
I hope that Field-Marshal Sir George White, V.C., to whom, and to all
the officers and men of the Burma Field Force, I owe so much, may find
my pages not without interest.
I have endeavoured to show how the conduct of the soldiers of the
Queen, British and Indian, helped the civil administration to establish
peace.
I believe, as I have said, that our work has been successful. The
credit, let us remember, is due quite as much to India as to Britain.
How long would it have taken to subjugate and pacify Burma if we had
not been able to get the help of the fighting-men from India, and what
would have been the cost in men and money? For the Burmans themselves
I, in common with all who have been associated with them, have a
sincere affection. Many of them assisted us from the first, and from
the Upper Burmans many loyal and capable gentlemen are now helping to
govern their country justly and efficiently.
It has been brought home to me in making this rough record how many of
those who took part in this campaign against disorder have laid down
their lives. I hope I may have helped to do honour to their memories.
I have to thank all the kind friends who have sent me photographs to
illustrate this book, and especially Sir Harvey Adamson, the present
Lieutenant-Governor, for his kindness in making my wants known.
C. H. C.
_February, 1912._
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE ADMINISTRATION OF BURMA 1
II. THE CHIEF COMMISSIONERSHIP OF BURMA 19
III. UPPER BURMA 30
IV. MANDALAY 37
V. DEALING WITH DACOITS 60
VI. CIVIL AND MILITARY WORKS 66
VII. A VISIT TO BHAMO 74
VIII. DISARMAMENT 80
IX. TROUBLE WITH THE WUNTHO SAWBWA 90
X. MILITARY REPLACED BY POLICE 95
XI. BURMA BECOMES A FRONTIER PROVINCE 100
XII. DACOITY IN THE MINBU AND MYINGYAN DISTRICTS 107
XIII. TROUBLE IN THE MAGWÈ DISTRICT 115
XIV. GRADUAL CREATION OF AN EFFICIENT POLICE FORCE 128
XV. THE SHAN STATES 133
XVI. THE SHAN STATES (_continued_) 160
XVII. THE KARENNIS, OR RED KARENS, AND SAWLAPAW 188
XVIII. THE TRANS-SALWEEN STATES 209
XIX. BHAMO AND MOGAUNG 234
XX. BHAMO, THE SOUTHERN TOWNSHIPS, AND MÖNG MIT 268
XXI. THE CHINS 287
XXII. THE CHIN-LUSHAI CAMPAIGN 308
XXIII. INTERNAL ADMINISTRATION OF BURMA 337
INDEX 343
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PICKET ON THE CHIN HILLS _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
THE PALACE, MANDALAY--"CENTRE OF THE UNIVERSE" 6
THAYETMYO--MAIL STEAMER LEAVING 26
A PONGHI'S FUNERAL PROCESSION 38
MANDALAY 48
SHWÈTAKYAT PROMONTORY OPPOSITE SAGAING 64
"THE MOAT," MANDALAY, AND NORTH WALL OF FORT DUFFERIN 70
OUTER BAMBOO STOCKADE OF BURMESE FRONTIER VILLAGE 86
CONSULTATION OF VILLAGE HEADMEN WITH CHIEF COMMISSIONER 90
BURMESE DACOITS BEFORE TRIAL-WORST CHARACTERS AND
NATIVE POLICE GUARD 110
SAW MÖNG, SAWBWA OF YAWNGHWÈ, AND HIS CONSORT 142
PADAUNG LADIES--SHAN STATES 154
A JUNGLE CAMP IN THE SHAN STATES 166
PAGODAS AT MANG KAO-SHAN STATES 180
GROUP OF RED KARENS 190
SAWLAWI--SAWBWA GANTARAWADI. (RED KARENS) 202
THE EASTERNMOST POINT OF THE BRITISH-INDIAN EMPIRE--REACH
OF THE ME KHONG, WHERE OUR BOUNDARY
MARCHES WITH FRENCH INDO-CHINA 212
KACHIN WOMEN AND CHILDREN 244
YAWGIN WITH CROSS-BOW (MOUNTAINS NORTH OF MYIT KYINA) 250
KACHIN WOMEN (NORTHERN IRRAWADDY) 250
BHAMO BATTALION DRAWN UP FOR INSPECTION 252
GETTING A DHOOLIE UP AN AWKWARD BIT 268
CLIMBING UP THE STEEP CHIN HILLS (CHIN CAMPAIGN) 268
BARGAINING WITH HAKA CHINS 276
MARCHING INTO THE KLANG KLANG COUNTRY (CHIN-LUSHAI
CAMPAIGN) 282
HAKA SLAVE-WOMAN SMOKING A PIPE 284
HAKA BRAVES 284
ON THE CHIN HILLS--ARRANGING PLAN OF ATTACK (CHIN-LUSHAI
CAMPAIGN) 288
HAKA CHINS 292
A CHIN "ZU" DRINK 292
IN THE SECOND DEFILE OF THE IRRAWADDY BELOW BHAMO 304
BURMESE LADIES MAKING A CALL 324
MAPS
MAP OF SHAN STATES 133
MAP OF TRANS-SALWEEN 209
MAP OF BHAMO MONGMIT 234
MAP OF CHIN HILLS, ETC. 253
MAP OF KACHIN HILLS, BHAMO, KATHA 303
THE PACIFICATION OF BURMA
CHAPTER I
THE ADMINISTRATION OF BURMA
On the 20th of December, 1852, Lord Dalhousie issued a proclamation
annexing the province of Pegu to the British Dominions. "The
Governor-General in Council," he said, "having exacted the reparation
he deems sufficient, desires no further conquest in Burma and is
willing that hostilities should cease.
"But if the King of Ava shall fail to renew his former relations with
the British Government, and if he shall recklessly seek to dispute its
quiet possession of the province it has now declared to be its own, the
Governor-General in Council will again put forth the power he holds
and will visit with full retribution aggressions, which, if they be
persisted in, must of necessity lead to the total subversion of the
Burman State and to the ruin and exile of the King and his race."
In 1885 the fulfilment of this menace--prophecy it might be called--was
brought about by the contumacy of the Government of Ava. The Burman
State was "totally subverted." Its territories were added to the
British Empire. The King and his race were "ruined and exiled."
At the end of November, 1885, the British commander was in full
possession of Mandalay, the capital. Our forces had made a procession
up the great river, which is the main artery of the country, almost
unopposed. Such opposition as there had been was childish in its
feebleness and want of skill and purpose. Fortunately for us the King
and his ministers prided themselves on their voluntary army system.
King Thebaw was not going to compel his subjects to defend their
country. They were told to go about their daily tasks without fear or
carefulness. They might sleep in their beds. He would see to it that
the foreign barbarians were driven into the sea whence they had come.
Unfortunately the soldiers to whom he trusted were insufficiently
trained, badly armed and equipped. He had intended, perhaps, to remedy
all this and to train his troops for six months before the fighting
began.
His enemy, however, was unreasonably hasty and had an abundance of
fast steamers for transporting the invading force. Before the training
could begin or the arms be provided or the officers instructed, the
invaders were before Ava, where the bulk of the defending army had been
collected, and a few miles from the capital. The King's government was
as helpless as it had been arrogant and pretentious. Ministers of State
were sent down in hot haste with messages of submission and surrender.
The army, however, took a different view of the case. They refused
to obey the order to surrender which had come from Mandalay. Before
General Prendergast could land his men they dispersed over the country
in every direction with their arms, and as the British force had no
cavalry to pursue them, they got away to a man. At first under various
leaders, few of whom showed any military talent, they waged a guerilla
warfare against the invaders; and afterwards, when their larger
divisions had been defeated and broken up, they succeeded in creating a
state of anarchy and brigandage ruinous to the peasantry and infinitely
harassing to the British.
On the 29th of November Mandalay was occupied and the King a prisoner
on his way down the river to Rangoon. The waterway from Mandalay to the
sea was under our control. A few of the principal places on the banks
of the river had been held by small garrisons as the expedition came
up, and the ultimate subjugation of the Burman people was assured. The
trouble, however, was to come.
To a loosely organized nation like the Burmese, the occupation of the
capital and the removal of the King meant nothing. They were still free
to resist and fight. It was to be five years before the last of the
large gangs was dispersed, the leaders captured, and peace and security
established.
Burma will be, in all likelihood, the last important province to be
added to the Indian Empire. Eastward that Empire has been extended as
far as our arms can well reach. Its boundaries march with Siam, with
the French dominion of Tongking, and on the East and North for a vast
distance with China. Our convention with France for the preservation of
the territory which remains to Siam and our long friendship with the
latter country bars any extension of our borders in that direction. It
is improbable that we shall be driven to encroach on Chinese territory;
and so far as the French possessions are concerned, a line has been
drawn by agreement which neither side will wish to cross.
In all likelihood, therefore, the experience gained in Burma will not
be repeated in Asia. Nevertheless it may be worth while to put on
record a connected account of the methods by which a country of wide
extent, destitute of roads and covered with dense jungle and forest,
in which the only rule had become the misrule of brigands and the only
order systematic disorder, was transformed in a few years into a quiet
and prosperous State.
I cannot hope that the story will be of interest to many, but it may be
of some interest and perhaps of use to those who worked with me and to
their successors.
From 1852 to 1878 King Mindôn ruled Upper Burma fairly well. He had
seized the throne from the hands of his brother Pagan Min, whose
life he spared with more humanity than was usual on such occasions.
He was, to quote from the Upper Burma Administration Report of 1886,
"an enlightened Prince who, while professing no love for the British,
recognized the power of the British Government, was always careful to
keep on friendly terms with them, and was anxious to introduce into
his kingdom, as far as was compatible with the maintenance of his own
autocratic power, Western ideas and Western civilization." He was
tolerant in religious matters even for a Burmese Buddhist. He protected
and even encouraged the Christian missions in Upper Burma, and for
Dr. Marks, the representative of the Society for the Propagation of
the Gospel in Mandalay he built a handsome teak church and a good
clergy-house, giving a tinge of contempt to his generosity by putting
them down by the Burmese burial-ground. The contempt was not for the
religion but for the foreign barbarians who professed it.
His measures for encouraging trade and increasing and ordering the
revenues were good, and the country prospered under him. In Burma
there are no hereditary leaders of the people. There is no hereditary
aristocracy outside the royal family, and their descendants rapidly
merge into the people. There was no law or binding custom determining
the descent of the crown within the family. Every one with royal blood,
however little, in his veins was a potential pretender. Whenever the
crown demised the succession was settled by intrigue or violence, and
possible aspirants were removed by the prince who had obtained the
prize. There was no other way of securing its peaceful enjoyment.
Under the King was the Hlutdaw, or great Council of State, composed of
the Chief Ministers, who were appointed by the King from the courtiers
who had the good fortune to be known to him or had helped him to the
throne. To each of these was assigned a province of the empire, which
he governed through a deputy.
The immediate power was vested in the deputy, who resided in the
province and remitted to the Minister as much as he could collect over
and above the amount due to the crown and, it need hardly be said,
necessary for his own needs. The provinces were divided into townships,
which were ruled by officials appointed by the governors, no doubt with
regard to local influence and claims, and with a general inclination to
keep the office in a family.
The really stable part of the administration on which everything rested
was the village, the headship of which was by custom hereditary, but
not necessarily in the direct line.
As there was little central control, it may be supposed that under a
system of this kind the people were pillaged, and doubtless they were
to some extent. But the deputy-governor on the spot had no organized
police or militia to support him. If he wanted to use force he had to
pay for it, and if he drove his province to the point of rebellion he
was unlikely to profit by it.
The amount of revenue was fixed at Mandalay with reference to a rough
estimate of what the province could pay, and that was divided amongst
the townships and again amongst the villages. The headman of each
village, assisted by a committee or Punchayet, as it would be called
in India, settled the sum due from each householder, and this was as a
rule honestly and fairly done. It was not a bad system on the whole,
and it was in its incidence probably as just as local taxation in Great
Britain, which I admit is somewhat faint praise.
As to the administration of justice between man and man and the
security of life and property, there was no doubt little refinement of
law and not always impartiality in the judges. The majority of civil
cases in a society like Burma, where there are few rich men and no
great landowners, must be trivial, and in Burma disputes were settled
by arbitration or by the village headmen, who could rarely set at
nought the opinion of their fellow-villagers.
In a country which is under-populated and contains vast areas of land
fit for cultivation unoccupied and free to all, migration is a great
check on oppression. Life is simple in Burma. The climate for the most
of the year makes a roof unnecessary; flitting is easy. Every man is
his own carpenter. He has put together his house of bamboo and planks
cut by his own hands. He knows how to take it down. He has not to send
for contractors or furniture vans. There are the carts and the plough
cattle in his sheds. He has talked things over with his wife, who is a
capable and sensible woman.
One morning they get up, and instead of going to his fields or his
fishing or whatever it may be, he takes his tools, and before sunset,
his wife helping, the house is down and, with the simple household
goods, is in the cart. The children find a place in it, or if they are
old enough they run along with the mother. If the local magistrate
is so blind to his own interests as to oppress his people, there is
another wiser man a few score leagues away who is ready to welcome
them. For what is the good of land without men to live on it? Is not
the King's revenue assessed at so much to the house? But suppose the
worst comes to the worst and the man in power is a fiend, and neither
property nor life nor honour is safe from him, even then there is the
great forest, in which life, though hard, is a real pleasure to a man;
and, given a good leader, the oppressed may soon change places with his
oppressor.
We are too ready to imagine that life under such a King as Mindôn
or even as Thebaw must be unbearable. We fancy them armed with all
the organization of the Inland Revenue Department and supported by
a force like our constabulary. Fortunately they were not. No system
of extortion yet devised by the most ruthless and greedy tyrant is
at all comparable in its efficacy to the scientific methods of a
modern revenue officer. The world will see to what a perfection of
completeness the arts of oppression and squeezing can be carried
when the power of modern European organization is in the hands of a
socialist government.
It need not be supposed, therefore, that under King Mindôn life in
Upper Burma was bad, and it must be remembered that since 1852 escape
to British Burma, although forbidden, was not impossible.
Under Thebaw things were different. Mindôn was on the whole
well-intentioned, and had kept the power in his own hands. Thebaw was
weak and incompetent, and the Ministers who had most influence with him
were the worst men. With his barbarities, old-fashioned rather than
unexampled, and perhaps not much worse than the measures of precaution
usually taken in Burma after the succession of a new king, or with the
causes of the war which led to his deposition, the present narrative
is not concerned. It is desired to give as clear an idea as possible
of the state of Upper Burma when we were called upon to administer the
country.
The rapacity and greed of the Court, where the Queen Supayalat was the
ruling spirit, set the example to the whole hierarchy of officials.
The result was a state of extreme disorder throughout the whole
kingdom. The demands made on the people for money became excessive and
intolerable. Men left their villages and took to the jungle. Bands of
armed brigands, some of considerable strength under active leaders,
sprang up everywhere. Formed in the first instance as a protest and
defence against extortion, they soon began to live on the country and
to terrorize the peasantry. After a time, brigands and Ministers,
finding themselves working for a common object, formed an unholy
alliance for loot. The leaders of the bands came to an understanding
with the more powerful officials, who in turn leant upon them for
support.
[Illustration: THE PALACE, MANDALAY--"CENTRE OF THE UNIVERSE."]
Under such conditions it was not wonderful that the sudden seizure
of the capital and the summary removal of the King should have
completed the dissolution of society, already far advanced. The British
Government, if it had decided to annex Upper Burma, might by a more
leisurely occupation, not only with a larger military force, but with
a complete staff of civil administrators, have saved the people from
some years of anarchy and great suffering. But that is not our way, and
under modern political conditions in England is impossible.
The country was taken and its government destroyed before we had
decided what we should do with it, or considered the effect on the
people.
The King's rule ended on the 29th of November, 1885. On the 1st of
January, 1886, the Viceroy's proclamation included Upper Burma in Her
Majesty's dominions. The administration of the country was temporarily
provided for by allowing the Hlutdaw, or great Council of State,
to continue in power, discharging all its functions as usual, but
under the guidance of Colonel (afterwards Sir E. B.) Sladen, who was
attached as Political officer to General Prendergast's staff. All Civil
officers, British and Burmese, were placed under the Hlutdaw's orders,
and the King's Burmese officials throughout the country were instructed
to go on with the regular performance of their duties as if nothing had
occurred. Some arrangement had to be made, and probably this was the
best possible. The best was bad.
On the 15th of December the Chief Commissioner, Sir Charles Bernard,
arrived at Mandalay from Rangoon. On his way up the river he had
visited Minhla, Pagan and Myingyan, where Civil officers, supported by
small garrisons, had been placed by General Prendergast. He decided
that these three districts should be removed from the jurisdiction
of the Hlutdaw and controlled directly by himself. Mandalay town and
district were similarly treated. A British officer was appointed to
govern them, under the immediate orders of Colonel Sladen, who was
responsible to the Chief Commissioner.
All this must have confused the minds of the people and prevented those
who were ready to submit to the British power from coming forward.
Fortunately this period of hesitation was short. From the 26th of
February, 1886, Upper Burma became a province of British India.
When the Chief Commissioner, who had gone down to Rangoon with the
Viceroy, returned to Mandalay, the Hlutdaw was finally dissolved and
Sir Charles Bernard took the government into his own hands. A few
of the Burmese Ministers were retained as advisers. At first they
were of some use as knowing the facts and the ways of the King's
administration. Very soon they became superfluous.
It must not be supposed that no steps had been taken towards the
construction of an administration during the first two months of the
year. Anticipating the decision of Her Majesty's Government, Sir
Charles Bernard had applied his signal energy to this work, and before
the end of February the Viceroy had laid his rough proposals before
the Secretary of State. As soon as Upper Burma was incorporated with
British India the scheme of government already drafted came into force.
The country was mapped out into fourteen districts, corresponding as
closely as possible to the existing provinces under the King, namely:--
Mandalay Minbu Pagan
Katha Bhamo Ningyan, afterwards
Ava Shwèbo called Pyinmana
Chindwin Kyauksè Ye-w
Myingyan Sagaing Yamèthin
and after a time three more were added: Taungdwingyi, Meiktila, and the
Ruby Mines. The boundaries were necessarily left vague at first until
more accurate knowledge of the country enabled them to be defined. At
first there were no maps whatever. The greater part of the country had
not been occupied nor even visited by us.
To each district was appointed an officer of the Burma Commission
under the style of Deputy Commissioner, with a British police officer
to assist him and such armed force of police as could be assigned to
him. His first duty was to get in touch with the local officials and to
induce those capable and willing to serve us to retain or take office
under our Government.
Having firmly established his authority at headquarters, he was to work
outwards in a widening circle, placing police posts and introducing
settled administration as opportunity offered. He was, however, to
consider it his primary object to attack and destroy the robber bands
and to protect the loyal villages from their violence. There were
few districts in which the guerilla leaders were not active. Their
vengeance on every Burman who attempted to assist the British was
swift and unmerciful. As it was impossible at first and for some time
to afford adequate protection, villages which aided and sheltered
the enemy were treated with consideration. The despatch of flying
columns moving through a part of the country and returning quickly to
headquarters was discouraged. There was a tendency in the beginning of
the business to follow this practice, which was mischievous. If the
people were friendly and helped the troops, they were certain to suffer
when the column retired. If they were hostile, a hasty visit had little
effect on them. They looked on the retirement as a retreat and became
more bitter than before.
Upper Burma was incorporated with British India on the 26th of
February. Thereupon the elaborate Statute law of India, including the
Civil and Criminal Codes, came into force, a body of law which implies
the existence of a hierarchy of educated and trained officials, with
police and gaols and all the machinery of organized administration. But
there were none of these things in Upper Burma, which was, in fact, an
enemy's country, still frankly hostile to us. This difficulty had been
foreseen, and the proper remedy suggested in Lord Dufferin's minute
(dated at Mandalay on the 17th of February, 1886) in which he proposed
to annex the country.
The Acts for the Government of India give to the Secretary of State the
power of constituting any province or part of a province an excepted
or scheduled district, and thereupon the Governor of the province may
draw up regulations for the peace and good government of the district,
which, when approved by the Governor-General in Council, have the full
force of law.[1]
This machinery is put in force by a resolution of the Secretary of
State in Council, and at the Viceroy's instance a resolution for this
purpose was made, with effect from and after the 1st of March, 1886. It
applied to all Upper Burma except the Shan States.
Sir Charles Bernard was ready to take advantage of the powers given
to him. Early in March he published an admirable rough code of
instructions, sufficiently elastic to meet the varying conditions,
and at the same time sufficiently definite to prevent anything like
injustice or oppression. The summary given in Section 10 of the Upper
Burma Administration Report for 1886 shows their nature.
"By these instructions each district was placed in charge of a
Civil officer, who was invested with the full powers of a Deputy
Commissioner, and in criminal matters with power to try as a magistrate
any case and to pass any sentence. The Deputy Commissioner was also
invested with full power to revise the proceedings of any subordinate
magistrate or official and to pass any order except an order enhancing
a sentence. In criminal matters the courts were to be guided as far as
possible by the provisions of the Code of Criminal Procedure, the Penal
Code, and the Evidence Act (_i.e._, the Indian Codes). But dacoity
or robbery was made punishable with death, though magistrates were
instructed to pass capital sentences only in very heinous cases. In
order to provide a safeguard against undue severity in the infliction
of punishments, it was ordered that no capital sentence should be
carried out except after confirmation by the Chief Commissioner. No
regular appeals were allowed from any decision; but it was open for
any one who felt aggrieved by the decision of a subordinate officer
to move the Deputy Commissioner to revise the order, and for any one
who demurred to an order passed by a Deputy Commissioner to bring the
matter to the notice of the Chief Commissioner.
"In revenue matters the customs of the country were as far as possible
to be observed, save that no monopolies (except that of precious
stones) were allowed and no customs or transport duties were levied.
As regards excise administration, in accordance with the custom of
the country the sale of opium and of intoxicating liquors to Burmans
was prohibited. But a limited number of licences were issued for the
sale of liquors to persons not of Burmese race, and the Chinese were
specially exempted from the restrictions imposed on the traffic in
opium."
Thus in four months after annexation the country had been parcelled
into seventeen districts, each under the charge of a Deputy
Commissioner, who was guided by the provisional instructions and
worked at first directly under the Chief Commissioner. It was thought
(_vide_ Lord Dufferin's minute of February 17, 1886) that the province
could be worked, in the beginning, without any authority such as
Divisional Commissioners or Sessions Judges interposed between the
Chief Commissioner and the district officers. "I would adopt, as I
have already said," wrote Lord Dufferin, "the simplest and cheapest
system of administration open to us. There will be in each district
or circle one British Civil officer and one police officer. The Civil
officer will work through the indigenous agency of the country, Myo-ôks
(governors of towns), Thugyis (headmen of villages) and others,
confining his efforts in the first instance to the restoration of
order, the protection of life and property, and the assessment and
collection of the ordinary revenue.... But most of the unimportant
criminal work and nearly all the civil suits must be disposed of by
the native officials, subject to the check and control of the district
officer."
The area of the province, excluding the Shan States, which were left to
the care of their own chiefs, was nearly one hundred thousand square
miles. It was divided into seventeen districts. There were no roads in
the interior, much of which was difficult country. The Irrawaddy, it
is true, formed a splendid line of communication from north to south.
But the river was not connected with the districts east or west of it
by anything better than an ordinary village cart-track, with numerous
streams and rivers, most of them unbridged. The Eastern districts
between the Sittang and the Irrawaddy were especially inaccessible.
Under such circumstances it was impossible for any man to discharge the
duties imposed on the Chief Commissioner, even if all his subordinates
had been endowed with ripe wisdom and experience. Only a man of the
heroic energy and devotion of Sir Charles Bernard could have conceived
it possible. Moreover, the Chief Commissioner was to be responsible
for all death sentences, and was to be the final Court of Revision for
the province; while the lower province also remained in his charge,
and although he was relieved of the routine work of Lower Burma, the
responsibility still rested on him, and was by no means nominal. It was
not business.
The difficulty soon began to be felt. In June a Commissioner was
appointed for the Eastern Division, Mr. St. G. Tucker, from the Punjab.
In August and September three more commissionerships were constituted,
to one of which, the Northern, was appointed Mr. Burgess (the late Mr.
G. D. Burgess), of the Burma Commission; to the Central Division, Mr.
F. W. Fryer (now Sir Frederick Fryer), from the Punjab; and Mr. J. D.
La Touche (now Sir James La Touche) from the North-Western Provinces
to the Southern Division. The Chief Commissioner delegated to them,
in their respective divisions, the general control of the district
officers and the revision of their judicial proceedings, including the
duty of confirming sentences of death.
The administrative divisions of the province, excluding the Shan
States, then stood as follows:--
1. The Northern Division Bhamo
Katha
Shwèbo
Ruby Mines
Mandalay
2. The Central Division Sagaing
Kyauksè
Yeu
Chindwin
Ava
3. The Eastern Division Meiktila
Yamèthin
Ningyan (afterwards called Pyinmana)
4. The Southern Division Myingyan
Pagan
Minbu
Taungdwingyi
This organization enabled the Chief Commissioner to attend to his
own work and brought the task of governing the whole of Burma within
the powers of an energetic man. It enabled him to give sufficient
time to the organization of the revenue and of the police and to the
exercise of that control without which there could be no united action.
The attempt to govern without an authority intervening between the
executive officers in the districts and the head of the province was
due to a desire for economy, and to the belief that in this way there
would be closer connection and easier communication between the Chief
Commissioner and the executive officers. In fact, the contrary was the
result, and in all such cases must be.
The framework of a civil administration had now been formed. It
remained to give the district officers such armed support as would
enable them to govern their charges.
In the autumn of 1886 the country generally was far from being under
our control. It had been supposed that our coming was welcome to the
people and that "the prospects of the substitution of a strong and
orderly government for the incompetent and cruel tyranny of their
former ruler" was by the people generally regarded with pleasure. (See
Lord Dufferin's minute of February 17, 1886.) But by July it had
become evident that a considerable minority of the population, to say
the least, did not want us, and that until we proved our strength it
was idle to expect active help even from our friends.
The total military force hitherto employed in Upper Burma had been
about fourteen thousand men. There was not anywhere in the whole
country a well-armed or organized body of the enemy. A few hundred
British troops could have marched from north to south or from east to
west without meeting with very serious opposition or suffering much
loss. Small flying columns could be moved through the country and might
find no enemy, and might even gather from the demeanour of the people
that they were welcome. When the soldiers passed on, the power of the
British Government went with them, and the villagers fell back under
the rule of the guerilla leaders and their gangs. At first there may
have been some faint tinge of patriotism in the motives which drove the
leaders and members of these bands to take the field. Very soon they
became mere brigands, living on the villagers and taking whatever they
wanted, including their women.
"These bands are freebooters," wrote Sir George White[2] (to the
Quartermaster-General in India, July 17, 1886), "pillaging wherever
they go, but usually reserving the refinement of their cruelty for
those who have taken office under us or part with us. Flying columns
arrive too late to save the village. The villagers, having cause to
recognize that we are too far off to protect them, lose confidence in
our power and throw in their lot with the insurgents. They make terms
with the leaders and baffle pursuit of those leaders by roundabout
guidance or systematic silence. In a country itself one vast military
obstacle, the seizure of the leaders of the rebellion, though of
paramount importance, thus becomes a source of greatest difficulty."
The experience of the first half of 1886 had brought home to the
Government of India as well as to the military officers in the field
that the resistance was more widespread and more obstinate than any one
had foreseen. Sir George White considered that "the most effective plan
of establishing our rule, and at the same time protecting and gaining
touch of the villages, is a close occupation of the disturbed districts
by military posts" (_ibid._). Under the circumstances, this was the
best course to adopt, provided that the posts were strong enough to
patrol the country and to crush every attempt at rising. The people
might be held down in this way, but not governed. Something more was
necessary. The difficulties were to be overcome rather by the vigorous
administration of civil government than by the employment of military
detachments scattered over the country. A sufficient force of armed
police at the disposal of the civil officers was therefore a necessity.
It had been foreseen from the first by Sir Charles Bernard and the
Government of India, although the strength of the force necessary
to achieve success was much under-estimated. In February, 1886, two
military police levies, each of five hundred and sixty-one men, were
raised from the Indian army. Of these one was sent to the Chindwin
district and one to Mandalay. At the same time the recruitment of two
thousand two hundred men in Northern India for a military police force
was ordered. These men were untrained and came over in batches as they
were raised. They were trained and disciplined at Mandalay and other
convenient places, and were distributed to the districts when they were
sufficiently formed. Thus besides the soldiers the Chief Commissioner
had about 3,300 men at his disposal.
As the year went on and the magnitude of the undertaking began to be
understood, the need of a much larger force was admitted. Two more
levies were sanctioned. One from Northern India was raised without
difficulty, and was posted to the railway line from Toungoo to
Mandalay, which had been tardily sanctioned by the Secretary of State
in November, 1886, and was at once put in hand. The other, a Gurkha
battalion for use in the Northern frontier subdivision of Mogaung, was
more difficult to recruit. At the end of the year two companies had
arrived, and after being trained at Mandalay had gone on to Bhamo. By
this time forty-six posts were held by the military police. The hunger
for men, however, so far from being satisfied, continued to grow. After
reviewing the position in November (1886) Sir Charles Bernard decided
to ask the Government of India for sixteen thousand men, including
those already sanctioned, nine thousand to be recruited in India and
seven thousand in Burma.
It was proposed that ultimately half of this force should be Indians
and half local men. They were all to be engaged for three years, and
were to be drilled and disciplined, and divided into battalions, one
for each district. Each battalion was to contain fixed proportions of
Indians and local men, "under the command of a military officer for
the purpose of training and discipline and under the orders of the
local police officers for ordinary police work." At this time it was
believed that Burmans, Shans, Karens and Kachins could by training and
discipline become a valuable element in a military police force, and
the experiment was made at Mandalay. This was the beginning of the
Burma military police force, which contributed so pre-eminently to the
subjugation and pacification of the province. The attempt to raise any
part of it locally was, however, very quickly abandoned, and it was
recruited, with the exception of a few companies of Karens, entirely
from Indians.
But to return to the middle of 1886. Sir George White, in writing to
Army Headquarters, urged the necessity of reinforcements. The fighting
had, it is true, been trivial and deaths in action or by wounds had
amounted to six officers and fifty-six men only. Disease, however, had
been busy. Exposure and fatigue in a semi-tropical climate, the want of
fresh food in a country which gave little but rice and salt fish, was
gradually reducing the strength and numbers of the force. One officer
and two hundred and sixty-nine men had died of disease and thirty-nine
officers and nine hundred and twenty men had been invalided between
November, 1885, and July, 1886.
There were few large bodies of the enemy in the field--few at any rate
who would wait to meet an attack. It was only by a close occupation
of the disturbed districts by military posts that progress could be
made. The Major-General Commanding did not shrink from this measure,
although it used up his army. Fourteen thousand men looks on paper a
formidable force, but more men, more mounted infantry, and especially
more cavalry were necessary.
It had been a tradition at Army Headquarters, handed down probably
from the first and second Burmese Wars, that cavalry was useless in
Burma. The experience of 1885-6 proved it to be the most effective
arm. It was essential to catch the "Bos," or captains of the guerilla
bands, who gave life and spirit to the whole movement. Short compact
men, nearly always well mounted, with a modern jockey seat, they were
the first as a rule to run away. The mounted infantry man, British or
Indian, a stone or two heavier, and weighted with rifle, ammunition,
and accoutrements, on an underbred twelve-hand pony, had no chance of
riding down a "Bo." But the trooper inspired the enemy with terror.
"In a land where only ponies are bred the cavalry horses seem monsters
to the people, and the long reach and short shrift of the lance
paralyse them with fear," wrote Sir George White, and asked that as
soon as the rains had ceased "three more regiments of cavalry, complete
in establishments," should be added to the Upper Burma Field Force.
The proposal was accepted by the Commander-in-Chief in India, Sir
Frederick Roberts, and approved by the Government of India. It may
be said here once for all that the Government of India throughout
the whole of this business were ready to give the local authorities,
civil and military, everything that was found necessary for the
speedy completion of the work in hand, the difficulties of which they
appreciated, as far as any one not on the spot could.
"It is proposed," they wrote to Lord Cross (August 13, 1886), "to
reinforce the Upper Burma Field Force by three regiments of native
cavalry and to relieve all or nearly all the corps and batteries which
were despatched to Burma in October last. The troops to be relieved
will be kept four or five months longer, so that, including those sent
in relief, the force will be very considerable and should suffice to
complete rapidly and finally the pacification and settlement of the
whole country."
In consequence of the increased strength of the field force the
Government of India directed Lieutenant-General Sir Herbert Macpherson,
Commander-in-Chief of the Madras Army, to transfer his headquarters
to Burma and remain there until the conclusion of the operations.
Unfortunately, Sir Herbert died shortly after reaching Burma. The
Commander-in-Chief in India, Sir Frederick Roberts, then took charge of
the business and landed in Rangoon in November.
It was evident that Sir George White had not exaggerated the
difficulties of the work. After taking stock of the position, Roberts
asked for five more regiments to be sent from India. During the cold
or, as it should be called in Burma, the dry season following, much was
done to gain control of the country, under the personal supervision of
the Commander-in-Chief. Especially in the Eastern Division, where large
bands of men under various pretenders had been most troublesome, the
stern energy of General Lockhart produced a rapid and wholesome change.
When Sir Frederick returned to India in February, 1887, the subjugation
of Upper Burma had been accomplished and the way was cleared for the
civil administration. But four years of constant patient work were
needed before the country was pacified and the peasant who wished to
live a life of honest industry could accomplish his desire.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] "The Government of India," by Sir Courtenay Ilbert, chap. i. p.
105. Second edition.
[2] Major-General, commanding the Burma Field Force, now Field-Marshal
Sir George White, V.C., G.C.B., &c.
CHAPTER II
THE CHIEF COMMISSIONERSHIP OF BURMA
My first acquaintance with Burma was made in the early part of 1883.
I was then a member of the Legislative Council of India. Mr. Charles
Bernard, who was Chief Commissioner of British Burma, had asked for
a year's leave, and Lord Ripon selected me to take his place. During
that year, 1883-4, I went over Lower Burma--British Burma as it was
then called--and learnt the methods of the administration and became
acquainted with the officers in the commission and the nature of the
country and its people.
There was at that time very little communication between the Court of
Ava and the Chief Commissioner, who represented the Governor-General
in Council. The embassy which the King had sent to Simla with the
ostensible purpose of making a new treaty had been suddenly recalled,
notwithstanding, and perhaps in some degree because of, the very
honourable and hospitable manner in which Lord Ripon had received it.
The King was already negotiating a treaty with France, and in 1883,
before the mission despatched for this purpose to Europe had left
Mandalay, it was believed to have been drafted. But when I surrendered
the office to Sir Charles Bernard on his return from leave in February,
1884, there was no thought of war in the near future.
From Rangoon I was transferred to Nagpur, to the post of Chief
Commissioner of the Central Provinces. Towards the end of 1885, fever
drove me to England on sick leave just as the relations with the King
of Burma were broken off and war had become unavoidable. Returning from
leave in November, 1886, I found awaiting me at Suez orders posting
me to the Public Service Commission, of which the late Sir Charles
Aitchison was president. At Bombay I found instructions to proceed at
once to Hyderabad in the Deccan, as the Viceroy (Lord Dufferin) desired
to see me. At Hyderabad I waited on Lord Dufferin. He told me that
Bernard might have to leave, and he wished to know if I would accept
the appointment of Chief Commissioner of Burma if he decided to offer
it to me. He added that it was in his opinion the post in all India
most to be coveted, and that if he was not Viceroy he would choose
Burma: an unnecessary stimulus, as ever since leaving that province in
1884 my ambition had been to succeed Bernard. I told the Viceroy that I
would go to Burma if it were offered to me.
I was with the Public Service Commission at Lahore, Allahabad, and
Jubulpore, and back to Bombay, before I heard anything more about
Burma. At the end of January, 1887, we were leaving the Parel Station,
Bombay, for Madras, where the next sitting of the Commission was to
be, when the train was stopped just as it began to move, and the
station-master ran up with a clear-the-line message for me from the
Viceroy, desiring me to wait further orders at Bombay. I left the
train gladly, as I knew that it meant that I was to go to Burma, and
I was delighted to be relieved from the work of the Commission, which
was distasteful to me, especially as it appeared from the character
of the evidence brought forward, a matter left entirely to the local
Government in each province, not likely to lead to beneficial results.
On the 3rd of February a telegram dated the 2nd came from the Viceroy,
offering me the Chief Commissionership as Bernard's health had
broken down, and desiring me to come to Calcutta to consult with the
Government.
As soon as I could arrange my affairs I went to Calcutta. The Viceroy
received me on the 14th of February. He took me out to the lawn at the
side where the great house throws a pleasant shade in the afternoon.
There we sat, and Lord Dufferin explained to me how matters stood in
Burma, and gave me his instructions on many points and on the general
principles which he wished to guide the administration.
The organization of the military police and the material of which the
force was to be constituted was one of the chief matters he spoke
about. He attached much importance to the enlistment of Burmans, Shans,
and Karens, so that the unhealthy posts might be held by acclimatized
natives. British officers would have to be posted to command them,
and they must be relieved at short intervals. He showed me letters
which had passed between him and Bernard about the military police
force, to which, as an instrument in the pacification of the province,
he attached the first importance. He spoke of the strength of the
Commission, and told me to consider it carefully and ask for more men
if I thought them necessary. Generally he considered that true economy
dictated the expenditure of as much money as was necessary to fit out
the new province with offices, roads, buildings, and river steamers,
and it was folly, he said, not to give it. Barracks and shelter for
troops and police should be vigorously pushed on.
The questions of the Shan States and our relations with China were
discussed. As to the Shan States, I represented the manner in which
our relations with the feudatory chiefs in the Central Provinces were
managed and the saving in cost and responsibility to be gained by
leaving them quasi-independent. Lord Dufferin approved of this policy
and preferred it to annexation, even in the case of the Wuntho Sawbwa,
who had shown an inclination to refuse submission to our Government.
The Viceroy spoke at length and with emphasis regarding our relations
with China, which he looked upon as most important. We were face to
face, he said, with a very powerful neighbour, who might greatly
harass us if she or even her subordinate officials chose to worry us.
Two officers of the Chinese Consular Service had been sent to Upper
Burma to be at my disposal in dealing with the Chinese in Burma and in
conducting relations with the Chinese Government. In the matter of the
frontiers of Upper Burma, where they touched China, great care should
be exercised. "Feel your way," he said, putting out his hand, "and when
you come against anything hard, draw back," advice that was most sound
in dealing with the ill-defined boundaries of a conquered province. We
wished to hold what our predecessors had held or had been entitled to
hold, and we did not desire to leave unoccupied space for others to
come in. He told me to think carefully whether there was anything I
wanted done and to let him know before I left. I was to see him again.
In a country where one man is as good as another, where there are
no landlords, no hereditary aristocracy and no tribal chiefs,
the Government, especially a foreign Government, is at a great
disadvantage. It is impossible to deal with each individual. The first
question is, who is the great man of this village: who has influence,
who knows the villagers, their characters and so on? Having found the
man, it becomes possible to enter into relations with the village and
to treat with them as a whole. In Upper Burma there was a recognized
headman in each village who had duties, and powers corresponding to his
duties; and in many administrative matters, especially in taxation, the
village was dealt with as a whole.
The difficulty in Lower Burma was the absence of such a local authority
or unit. The villagers were not held together by any obligation to
each other or by subordination to any one on the spot. Each man had
his own bit of land which he held directly from the Government. He
lived where he pleased, and if he put his house in the same place with
other cultivators, it was for the sake of convenience and protection.
The villages were grouped for revenue purposes by the British
administration under officials who collected the taxes and received
a percentage on the amount. Each of these _taik Thugyis_ (headmen of
circles), as they were designated, had many villages under him and
could not be expected to have local knowledge or personal influence in
all of them. He had no powers outside his revenue work. It was open
to any one to put up his hut in any village, wherever he could find
room. There was no one to say him nay, even if he was a gambler, an
opium-eater, or a notorious evildoer living by theft and robbery. There
were, it is true, village policemen appointed by law, who were intended
to supply the wants of a local authority. But no power was given to
them: they were subordinated to the regular civil police and had no
status as revenue officials. Consequently they tended to become mere
village drudges, although by no means useless and frequently showing
both courage and sagacity in police matters.
When I was in Burma in 1883-84 gang-robbery was prevalent, even in the
neighbourhood of Rangoon; so much so as to demand close attention from
the head of the province. I had observed that in nearly every case
where a large gang of dacoits, to use the Indian term, was dominating a
district or part of a district they were assisted by sympathisers, who
sent them food, supplied them with information, and made it possible
for them to live undetected. The codes of Indian Criminal Procedure
do not enable a magistrate to touch cases of this sort. If the people
are against the Government--and in 1887 they were certainly not minded
to help it--the difficulty of detecting and convicting such secret
abettors is almost insuperable. At any rate, it was a slow process, and
meanwhile violence and disorder flourished and the peasantry became
more and more enthralled to the brigands.
It occurred to me that nothing would give the civil magistrate more
assistance than the power of summarily removing persons who, while they
themselves appeared to be living harmless lives without reproach, were
enabling the insurgent or brigand gangs to keep the field.
I explained my views on these matters to the Viceroy. He promised me
his support and desired me to embody my ideas in a draft Regulation
before I left Calcutta. With the assistance of the Legislative
Department the draft was quickly completed, and on my arrival in
Burma it was circulated to district officers for their opinions. It
was delayed by various formalities and inquiries, and was not finally
made law until October, 1887. Founded so far as might be on the system
indigenous to the country and in accord with the mind of the people,
this law was a great aid to the administration. Writing in October,
1890, I said: "I think that most officers will now admit that the
policy of dealing with the people by villages and not by individuals
has been a very powerful instrument for suppressing disorder and
establishing our authority. It would not have been possible to use this
instrument if the village system had no vitality. If we are to rule
the country cheaply and efficiently and to keep the people from being
robbed and oppressed by the criminal classes, the village system must
be maintained in vigour. It cannot thrive or live unless the post of
headman is sought after, or at least willingly accepted, by respectable
persons." I believe the provisions of the village regulation are still
a living force and are brought into action when occasion arises. But
the life of the system is the headman, his dignity and his position.
This is what the author of "The Soul of a People" wrote in 1898:--
"So each village managed its own affairs untroubled by squire or
priest, very little troubled by the State. That within their little
means they did it well no one can doubt. They taxed themselves without
friction, they built their own monastery schools by voluntary effort,
they maintained a very high, a very simple, code of morals entirely of
their own initiative.
"All this has passed or is passing. The King has gone to a banishment
far across the sea, the Ministers are either banished or powerless for
good or evil. It will never rise again, this government of the King
which was so bad in all it did and only good in what it left alone. It
will never rise again. The people are now part of the British Empire,
subjects of the Queen. What may be in store for them in the far future
no one can tell; only we may be sure that the past can return no more.
And the local government is passing away too. It cannot exist with a
strong Government such as ours. For good or for evil, in a few years,
it too, will be gone."[3]
This is a prophecy which I believe has not yet been fulfilled, and I
hope never will. But to return to the order of events.
I was detained in Calcutta until the 24th of February. Time by no means
wasted. I had frequent opportunities of seeing the Members of Council
and learning what was going on in each department. Lord Dufferin
allowed me to discuss matters with him more than once. On the 19th I
attended His Excellency in Council and explained my views, especially
regarding the village system. Leaving Calcutta in the British India
steamship _Rangoon_ on the 24th, I landed at Rangoon on Sunday the 27th
of March. Next day I relieved Sir Charles Bernard and took charge of
the Province of Burma.
In order to enable the Chief Commissioner to give more time to the
affairs of Upper Burma, a Special Commissioner, Mr. Hodgkinson, had
been appointed to take immediate charge of the older province. I found
that the Special Commissioner was in fact ruler of the Lower Province,
and was so regarded by the public. Nothing which was not of a very
extraordinary nature was referred to the Chief Commissioner, whose
responsibility, however, remained unimpaired. For example, two or
three days after my arrival the Viceroy telegraphed in cipher to the
Chief Commissioner about some matters in Lower Burma which had given
rise to questions in Parliament, and of which the responsible Chief
Commissioner had no cognizance. No more competent and trustworthy man
than Mr. Hodgkinson could have been found for the work. Nevertheless
the arrangement did not seem to me quite satisfactory.
There were urgent matters requiring to be settled with Mr. Hodgkinson,
more especially the Budget of the Province and the organization of the
police in Lower Burma, which needed thorough reform. They had earned
the reputation of being the worst and the most costly in the world,
and during the last eighteen months they had not belied it. It was
necessary to form a body of military police for Lower Burma of suitable
Indians, trained and disciplined. During the few days I was in Rangoon
this and other urgent matters--for example, the arrangements with the
Bombay Burma Company about the Upper Burma Forests, the Ruby Mines,
the condition of some of the Lower Burma districts, the postings of
officers, the distribution of reinforcements of military police just
disembarking from the transports, consultations with the General
Commanding in Lower Burma as to the measures necessary along and beyond
the line of the old frontier within the limits of his command, all
these things and much more would have given me plenty of work for many
days.
I could only dispose of those matters which required my personal orders
and leave the rest to Mr. Hodgkinson. I could not remain in Rangoon.
Sir Charles Bernard had a powerful memory. The Upper Burma Secretariat
was, as has been said, in Mandalay; when Sir Charles Bernard was in
Rangoon, he relied to a great extent on his memory. Letters and
telegrams received from Mandalay were dealt with and returned with his
orders, no copies for reference being kept. As the Rangoon Secretariat
was ignorant of Upper Burma affairs, I found myself completely in the
air. I decided therefore to start as soon as possible for Mandalay.
I left Rangoon by rail for Prome on the 9th of March. At Prome a
Government steamer, the _Sir William Peel_, was waiting for me, and
I reached Mandalay on the 14th. To a man sailing up the river there
were few signs of trouble. The people appeared to be going about
their business as usual, and no doubt along the river bank and in
the neighbourhood of our posts there was little disorder. But this
appearance was deceptive. Just beyond the old frontier the country from
the right bank of the Irrawaddy up to the Arakan Yoma was in the hands
of insurgents.
On the right bank of the river, forty miles above Thayetmyo, is the
Burman fort and town of Minhla, where the first opposition was offered
to the British expedition. I found here a small detachment of Indian
troops, and in the town, about half a mile off, a police post. I learnt
from the British officer commanding the detachment and from the Burman
magistrate that for some fifty miles inland, up to the Chin hills on
the west, the villages were deserted and the headmen had absconded.
This is an unhealthy tract, with much jungle, and broken up into small
valleys by the spurs from the Arakan mountains. The noted leader Bo
Swè made his lair here and had still to be reckoned with. His story
illustrates the difficulties which had to be overcome.
In November, 1885, after taking Minhla, a district was formed by Sir
Harry Prendergast consisting of a large tract of country above the
British Burma frontier on both sides of the river to Salin, north of
Minbu, on the right bank, and including Magwè and Yenangyoung on the
left. This district was known at first as Minhla, but afterwards as
Minbu, to which the headquarters were moved. Mr. Robert Phayre, of the
Indian Civil Service and of the British Burma Commission, was left in
charge, supported by a small force.
[Illustration: THAYETMYO--MAIL STEAMER LEAVING.]
Mr. Phayre, a relative of that distinguished man, Colonel Sir Arthur
Phayre, the first Chief Commissioner of British Burma, was the right
man for the work. He began by getting into touch with the native
officials, and by the 15th of December all those on the right bank of
the river had accepted service under the new Government. Outposts were
established, and flying columns dispersed any gatherings of malcontents
that were reported. A small body of troops from Thayetmyo, moving
about in the west under the Arakan hills, acted in support of Minhla.
Revenue began to come in, and at Yenangyoung, the seat of the earth-oil
industry, work was being resumed. Everything promised well.
There were two men, however, who had not been or would not be
propitiated, Maung Swè and Ôktama. Maung Swè was hereditary headman or
Thugyi of Mindat, a village near the old frontier. He had for years
been a trouble to the Thayetmyo district of British Burma, harbouring
criminals and assisting dacoit gangs to attack our villages, if he
did not lead them himself. He had been ordered up to Mandalay by the
Burmese Government owing to the strong remonstrances of the Chief
Commissioner.
On the outbreak of war Bo[4] Swè was at once sent back to do his utmost
against the invaders. So long as there was a force moving about in the
west of the district he was unable to do much. When the troops were
withdrawn (the deadly climate under the hills compelled their recall),
he began active operations.
The second man was named Ôktama, one of the most determined opponents
of the British. He had inspired his followers with some of his spirit,
whether fanatical or patriotic, and harassed the north of the district
about and beyond Minbu. His gang was more than once attacked and
dispersed, but came together again. He and Maung Swè worked together
and between them dominated the country.
In May, 1886, Maung Swè was attacked and driven back towards the hills.
He retired on Ngapè, a strong position thirty miles west of Minbu and
commanding the principal pass through the mountains into Arakan. Early
in June, 1886, Mr. Phayre, with fifty sepoys of a Bengal infantry
regiment and as many military police (Indians), started from Minbu to
attack Maung Swè, who was at a place called Padein. The enemy were
reinforced during the night by two or three hundred men from Ngapè. The
attack was delivered on the 9th of June, and Phayre, who was leading,
was shot dead. His men fell back, leaving his body, which was carried
off by the Burmans, but was afterwards recovered and buried at Minbu.
Three days after this two parties of Ôktama's gang who had taken up
positions near Salin were attacked by Captain Dunsford. His force
consisted of twenty rifles of the Liverpool Regiment and twenty rifles
of the 2nd Bengal Infantry. The Burmans were driven from their ground,
but Captain Dunsford was killed and a few of our men wounded.
Reinforcements were sent across the river from Pagan: and Major
Gordon, of the 2nd Bengal Infantry, with ninety-five rifles of his own
regiment, fifty rifles of the Liverpool Regiment, and two guns 7-1
R.A., attacked Maung Swè in a position near Ngapè. The Burmans fought
well, but were forced to retire. Unfortunately the want of mounted men
prevented a pursuit. The enemy carried off their killed and wounded.
Our loss was eight men killed and twenty-six wounded, including one
officer. We then occupied Ngapè in strength, but in July the deadly
climate obliged us to withdraw.
Maung Swè returned at once to his lair. By the end of August the whole
of the western part of the district was in the hands of the insurgents,
rebels, or patriots, according to the side from which they are seen.
Meanwhile Salin had been besieged by Ôktama. He was driven off after
three days by Captain Atkinson, who brought up reinforcements to aid
the garrison of the post. Captain Atkinson was killed in the action.
Thus in a few weeks these two leaders had cost us the lives of three
officers.
In the course of the operations undertaken under Sir Frederick
Roberts's command in the open season of 1886-87, this country was well
searched by parties of troops with mounted infantry. Bo Swè's power
was broken, and in March, 1887, he was near the end of his exploits.
In the north of the district, the exertions of the troops had made
little impression on Ôktama's influence. The peasantry, whether through
sympathy or fear, were on his side.
I have troubled the reader with this story because it will help to the
understanding of the problem we had before us in every part of Upper
Burma. It will explain how districts reported at an early date to be
"quite peaceful" or "comparatively settled" were often altogether in
the hands of hostile bands. They were reported quiet because we could
hear no noise. We were outsiders, as indeed we are, more or less, not
only in Burma but in every part of the Indian Empire--less perhaps in
Burma than elsewhere.
On the way up the river I had the advantage of meeting Mr. (now Sir
James) La Touche, the Commissioner of the Southern Division, Sir Robert
Low,[5] commanding at Myingyan, Brigadier-General Anderson, Captain
Eyre, the Deputy Commissioner of Pagan district (which then included
Pakokku and the Yaw country), and others. At Mandalay I was able to
consult with General Sir George White, commanding the field force,
with His Excellency Sir Charles Arbuthnot, the Commander-in-Chief of
the Madras Army, and with the civil officers, namely, the Commissioner
of the Northern Division, Mr. Burgess,[6] and Mr. (now Sir Frederick)
Fryer, the Commissioner of the Central or Sagaing Division, and their
subordinates. No more capable or helpful men could have been found. The
Commissioner of the Eastern Division was out of reach for the time. The
only way of getting to that country was by road from Mandalay, which
would have taken many days. I had to wait until I returned to Rangoon
and could go by rail to Toungoo before I made acquaintance with Mr.
Henry St. George Tucker, of the Indian Civil Service, a Punjab officer.
FOOTNOTES:
[3] "The Soul of a People," pp. 103-4.
[4] _Bo_ means "Captain"; _Maung_ is the ordinary way of addressing a
Burman, the equivalent of "Mister."
[5] The late General Sir Robert Cunliffe Low, G.C.B.
[6] The late Mr. G. D. Burgess, C.S.I., Judicial Commissioner, Upper
Burma.
CHAPTER III
UPPER BURMA
I will now give as brief a sketch as may be of the state of Upper Burma
when I arrived in Mandalay in March, 1887.
Upper Burma, inclusive of the Shan States, contains in round numbers
one hundred and sixty thousand square miles, of which the Shan States
cover sixty thousand miles and the Chin hills ten thousand. It may
be divided, for the present purpose, into four parts. The first is
the great valley of the Irrawaddy, from the mountain ranges north of
Mogaung to the northern boundary of the Thayetmyo district; the second
is the valley of the Chindwin; the third is the valley of the Sittang,
in which lies the Eastern Division, down to the boundary of the Toungoo
district; and the fourth is the Shan States. In 1887 the British
administration had not yet touched the Chin hills or the Kachins in the
mountains which divide Burma from China.
Beginning with the Irrawaddy Valley, Mogaung, the most northerly
post of importance, was held by a Burman Myoôk, or township officer,
nominally for us. He collected the revenue and spent it--much, no
doubt, on his establishment, for which no regular provision had been
made. South of Mogaung as far as Bhamo the country was quiet, and no
organized gangs were in the field. The Katha district, which comes next
below Bhamo, was disturbed on the Wuntho border, and was not much under
control.
The Wuntho Sawbwa, a Shan chief exercising independent jurisdiction
within his country, had refused our invitation to come in. A strong
force under Brigadier-General Cox, with Mr. Burgess, the Commissioner
of the Northern Division, had gone to try the methods of peaceful
persuasion. The districts south of Katha, namely Shwèbo and Ye-u, were
controlled by dacoit gangs under active leaders.
On the left bank of the river the Shan States of Mohlaing and Möngmit
were disturbed by the raids of Hkam Leng (_vide_ Chapter XX.). The Ruby
Mines district, with its capital, Mogok, was held in force and had
remained submissive since its occupation.
South of the ruby mines lies the district of Mandalay, shut in on the
north and east by the Shan hills. There was a British force of some
thousand men of all arms in Mandalay itself, with several outlying
detachments and a strong party in the hills at Pyinulwin,[7] forty
miles on the road to Hsipaw. In spite of this force the district was
dominated by three or four leaders, who had large followings and acted
in concert. They had divided the country between them into definite
jurisdictions, which they mutually respected. They collected revenue
from the villagers. Disobedience or any attempt to help the British
Government met with swift and severe punishment. They professed to be
acting under the authority of the Myingun Prince, who was at the time a
refugee in Pondicherry, and they were encouraged and helped to combine
by a relative of the Prince, known as the Bayingan or Viceroy, who went
from one to the other and supplied them with information. The district
of Ava, south of Mandalay, was in a similar state. The valleys of the
Samôn and Panlaung gave good shelter to the dacoits. Unfortunately
several district boundaries and divisions of military commands met in
this country, and on that account action was not so prompt as it ought
to have been.
Following the river below Ava, the Myingyan and Pagan districts
extended to both sides of the river, an inconvenient arrangement
inherited from the Burmese Government. The headquarters of these
districts, both on the left bank, were held by garrisons of some size,
and within striking range the country was controlled.
About forty miles from Pagan town, and as many from the river, is
the isolated hill or mountain of Popa. It rises to a height of four
thousand five hundred feet, a gigantic cone throwing out numerous
spurs. It is wooded thickly almost to the top, and extending for a long
distance round it is a tangle of scrub jungle and ravines, an ideal
hunting-ground for robbers and the home of cattle-thieves.
South of this was the Taungdwingyi district, extending down to the
old border. It was in the hands of a leader named Min Yaung, who was
well provided with ponies, and even elephants. The northern spurs of
the Pegu Yoma divide this district from the Sittang Valley, and are
densely wooded, offering a harbour of refuge to criminals. To this,
among other causes, it was due that this district gave more trouble
than any other in Upper Burma. It was at that time separated from the
river by the Magwè township, which belonged to the Minbu district, and
enjoyed comparative peace, owing mainly to the influence of the Burman
governor, who had taken service under us and for a time was loyal.
These parts of the Myingyan and Pagan districts, which were on the
right bank of the Irrawaddy, were not really under our control or
administered by us. The wild tract on the Yaw (_vide_ Chapter XXI.,
p. 295), which was much left to itself in Burmese times, had not been
visited, and was overrun by dacoits.
Southward, still on the right bank, came the Minbu district, where
Ôktama and Bo Swè were still powerful, the former in full force.
The difficulties of country and climate which our men had to face in
this district were very great. The west of the Minbu district lies up
against the range of mountains known as the Arakan Yoma, which run
parallel to the sea and shut off the Irrawaddy Valley from the Bay
of Bengal. The country below the Yoma is what is known in India as
Terai, a waterlogged region reeking with malaria, deadly to those not
acclimatized. Many a good soldier, British and Indian, found his grave
in the posts occupied in this district, Taingda, Myothit, Ngapè, and
Sidoktaya. The dacoit leaders knew the advantage of being able to live
where our men could not. Soldiers like Captain Golightly (Colonel R. E.
Golightly, D.S.O., late of the 60th Rifles) and his mounted infantry
would have made short work of them under less adverse conditions.
Passing to the Chindwin, which joins the Irrawaddy at Pakokku,
twenty-five miles above Myingyan, the Upper Chindwin[8] was fairly
quiet. The two local potentates, the Sawbwa of Hsawnghsup and the
Sawbwa of Kalè, were not of much importance. The former had made his
submission; the latter was holding aloof, but had shown his goodwill
by arresting and delivering to the Deputy Commissioner a pretender who
had attacked a British post and was gathering to his banner various
leaders. Lower down, the country round Mingin, where Mr. Gleeson,
Assistant Commissioner, was murdered in 1886, was much disturbed. In
the Lower Chindwin there was trouble in Pagyi and Pakangyi. The former
country, which is covered with forests and very unhealthy, had been
placed under the management of Burmans of local influence--a plan which
answered for a time. The Kani township, which adjoins Mingin, had been
governed from the first by the Burmese Wun well and loyally. He was
murdered on that account by a dacoit leader. His younger brother was
appointed in his room and followed in his steps. On the left bank the
country was not openly disturbed. The river trade was busy, but boats
were obliged to take a guard or to be convoyed by a steam-launch.
At this time the cause of order seemed nearer victory in the Eastern
Division than elsewhere. The Sittang Valley includes the Kyauksè
district, which at first was placed under the Commissioner of the
Central Division, but was allied in dacoit politics to Meiktila.
Myat Hmon, Maung Gyi, and Maung Lat, names well known to soldiers
in 1885-6, hunted this country, making the Hmawwaing jungles their
rallying-ground. When hard-pressed they took refuge in the hills of
Baw and Lawksawk, coming back when the troops retired. In the three
districts of Meiktila, Yamèthin, and Pyinmana, which then formed the
Eastern Division under Mr. H. St. George Tucker, General Sir William
Lockhart had given them no rest day or night. Nevertheless, in March,
1887, large bands were still active.
The Shan States were in a very troubled state, but a good beginning
had been made, and Mr. Hildebrand had nearly succeeded in breaking
up the Limbin Confederacy (_vide_ Chapter XV.). But throughout the
plateau dacoities were rife and petty wars were raging. Wide tracts
were laid waste, and the peasantry, deserting their fields, had joined
in the fights or gone across the Salween. Great scarcity, perhaps in
some cases actual famine, resulted, not from failure of rain, but from
strife and anarchy. And this reacted on Burma proper, for some of the
Shan States on the border gave the dacoits encouragement and shelter.
The whole of Upper Burma at this time was in military occupation. There
were one hundred and forty-one posts held by troops, and yet in wide
stretches of country, in the greater part of the Chindwin Valley, in
the Mogaung country and elsewhere, there was not a soldier. The tide,
however, was on the turn. The officers in command of parties and posts
were beginning to know the country and the game, while the dacoits and
their leaders were losing heart. The soldiers had in fact completed
their task, and they had done it well. What remained to be done was
work for the civil administrator.
The first and essential step was to enable the civil officers to get a
firm grip of their districts. For this purpose a civil police force,
recruited from the natives of the country, was necessary. Without it,
detection and intelligence were impossible. Commissioners and generals
were alike unanimous on this point.
The next thing was to provide an armed force at the disposal of
the district officer, so that he should be able to get an escort
immediately--for there was no district where an Englishman could yet
travel safely without an armed escort--and should be able also to
quell risings and disperse ordinary bands of insurgents or brigands
without having to ask assistance from the army. The military police had
been designed and raised for these purposes, and the men were being
distributed as fast as they arrived from India.
The relations of the district officers to the commandants of military
police and of the latter to the civil police officers, and the duties
and spheres of each, had to be defined. I had drafted regulations
for these purposes, and was waiting for the appointment of an
Inspector-General to carry them out. It had been decided before I left
Calcutta that a soldier should be selected for this post. The military
police force was in fact an army of occupation sixteen thousand strong.
Many of them were old soldiers who had volunteered from the Indian
regiments, the rest were recruited mainly from the fighting races of
Northern India. And they were commanded by young officers, some of whom
had come with somewhat exalted ideas of their independence. It was
imperative, therefore, to get an able soldier who could look at matters
from all points of view, and who could manage men as well as command
them. For it required a delicate touch to avoid friction between the
military and civil members of the district staff. Some of the civil
officers were young, some were quite without experience, and some were
inferior to the military commandants in force and ability.
In April, 1887, Colonel E. Stedman, commanding the 3rd Gurkhas, who
had accompanied Mr. Hildebrand to the Shan States, was appointed to be
Inspector-General of Police in Upper Burma, with the military rank of
Brigadier-General. Among the many able officers of the Indian Army it
would have been hard to find another man equally adapted to the work. I
had reason to be grateful to General Stedman (now Sir Edward Stedman,
G.C.B., K.C.I.E.) and to the Commander-in-Chief, Lord Roberts (then Sir
Frederick), who selected him.
On the 21st of March, 1887, I wrote to Lord Dufferin regarding the
relations of the district and police officers as follows: "The
relations between Deputy Commissioners, District Superintendents (Civil
Police) and Commandants (Military Police) are ill-defined and work
badly, unless all are really good fellows. I have decided to keep the
Commandant to his military work, and the District Superintendent of
Police to the real civil police duty--intelligence, detection, and
investigation. The Deputy Commissioner has by law supreme control and
must exercise it.... The Deputy Commissioners have no hold on their
districts, and through the absence of a civil police they get no
intelligence and no touch with the people. Hence our military parties
sometimes go wandering about blindly, unable to get any information.
There must be a completely separate trained body of Burman Civil
Police, trained not to arms but to their police duties.... I have got
orders under issue about the location of posts and everything connected
with them and the constitution of the police in them. We must have some
Burmans and some Civil Police Burmans in every police post, and I think
in every military post also."
The details of these matters could not be settled until General Stedman
came to take up the work. Meanwhile I must return to affairs at
Mandalay.
FOOTNOTES:
[7] Now the hill station for Upper Burma, named Maymyo from Colonel
May, who commanded the Bengal Regiment, which garrisoned the place in
1887.
[8] The district was not formally divided into Upper and Lower until
1888.
CHAPTER IV
MANDALAY
Soon after my arrival in Mandalay I made the Thathanabaing's
acquaintance. He is the head of the Buddhist monks, the religious
order which in Bishop Bigandet's words is "The greatest in its extent
and diffusion, the most extraordinary and perfect in its fabric and
constituent parts, and the wisest in its rules and prescriptions that
has ever existed either in ancient or modern times outside the pale
of Christianity."[9] The Thathanabaing is the head of this order for
purposes of discipline and for settling doctrinal disputes. His title
means that he has power over all religious matters. It is misleading
to speak of him as an archbishop or to apply any of the titles of the
Christian Church to the Buddhist monks, who are not priests in any
sense, but "are the strict followers of Buddha, who, like him, have
renounced the world to devote themselves to the twofold object of
mastering their passions and acquiring the true wisdom which alone can
lead to the deliverance."[10] "The regulations they are subject to and
the object they have in view in entering the religious profession debar
them from concerning themselves in affairs that are foreign to their
calling."[11]
The great mass of the Pongyis, or monks, in Upper Burma, who may have
numbered in 1887 twenty or thirty thousand persons, obeyed the rules
of their order and took no part in the troubles that followed the
annexation. In the King's time the Thathanabaing neither personally nor
as representative of the order interfered in affairs of State. He might
have, as a work of mercy, pleaded for the remission of a sentence,
but it is doubtful whether he went beyond that, or whether he had any
political influence in our sense of the word. As a "religious" he would
have, and was bound to have, no concern with mundane affairs. Could he
bring any influence to bear on the people at large to induce them to
submit peacefully to our rule?
"When we speak," writes Bishop Bigandet,[12] "of the great influence
possessed by the religious order of Buddhist monks we do not intend to
speak of political influence. It does not appear that in Burma they
have ever aimed at any share in the management or direction of the
affairs of the country. Since the accession of the house of Alomphra
to the throne, that is to say, during a period of above a hundred
years, the history of Burma has been tolerably well known. We do not
recollect having ever met with one instance when the Pongyis, as a
body, have interfered in the affairs of State. But in a religious point
of view," continues Bishop Bigandet, "their influence is a mighty one."
And undoubtedly if they were an energetic, ambitious, and intellectual
body, instead of a thoroughly lazy and densely ignorant set of men,
they might easily direct this influence to worldly purposes, and they
might have excited the people to resist the British.
One of my first acts at Mandalay was to issue orders for the repair of
monasteries occupied by our men and for making compensation in some
form to the monks, and at least twice afterwards I reiterated and
enlarged these orders. No doubt this matter of the monasteries was a
grievance. But, as often happens, it was made more of by busybodies and
correspondents interested in defaming the administration than by the
sufferers. It was an unfortunate necessity of war. The only remedy was
to build barracks and reduce the garrison, both of which were done with
all the speed possible. It is worth noting that the Thathanabaing did
not make any complaint to me on this head. In his conversations with me
he dwelt mainly on the sufferings caused to the monks by the removal
of the inhabitants from the walled city, which was being converted
into a cantonment. The monks living in the cluster of great _Kyaungs_
(monasteries), of which the Incomparable was the centre, depended on
the faithful in the city for their food. I reminded him of the removal
of the people by their own monarchs, first from Ava to Amarapura and
then from Amarapura to Mandalay. He replied that the King removed the
_kyaungs_ with the people, and put them up on the new sites at the
public cost, and also compelled his Ministers to build new monasteries.
He was amused by my suggesting that the Commissioner and the secretary
who accompanied me should be ordered to erect some monasteries on the
sites to which the people were being moved. He saw the humour of it.
[Illustration: A PONGHI'S FUNERAL PROCESSION.] [Blank page]
I found the Thathanabaing in my intercourse with him always courteous
and good-humoured; and in his bearing there was neither arrogance nor
ill-will. Of the Pongyis generally in Upper Burma I saw something, as
in riding about the districts (there were no motors or tents for Chief
Commissioners in those days) we had generally to ask the Pongyis to
give us shelter; and their manner was courteous and hospitable. Not a
few, I thought, felt and deplored the misery which the disturbances
caused, and would have been glad to work for peace. It must be
remembered that from the experience of our rule in Lower Burma they
knew the attitude of the British Government towards their religion.
They had no reason to fear oppression or persecution. They knew at the
same time that in losing a Buddhist King their position and influence
must be lowered. They could hardly be asked to rejoice with us.
In common with others who know Burma better, I doubt if the religious
orders as a body had much influence on the course of events, or took an
active part in the resistance to us. When a monk became a noted leader,
it was a patriot who had been a monk and not a monk who had become a
patriot. At the same time some of the most serious and deepest-laid
plots were hatched in monasteries or initiated by Pongyis.
I may give some instances of the conduct and feelings of Pongyis.
In August, 1887, a pretender calling himself the Pakan Prince joined
a conspiracy to get up a rebellion in Mandalay. The police detected
the movement and the prince was arrested. The prince told all that he
knew. The originator of the scheme was a Sadaw or Abbot living in one
of the Thathanabaing's monasteries. He made his escape. I sent for the
Thathanabaing and he consented readily at my request to cite the Sadaw
to appear before him and to proclaim him as a man with whom Pongyis
should not associate. Whether he was sincere or not, I cannot say.
But he issued the injunction and I took care it was widely published.
Another case shows how the people as well as the Pongyis were coming
to regard us. The town of Tabayin in the Ye-u (now Shwèbo) district
was burnt by insurgents soon after our occupation of Mandalay. It was
rebuilt in 1887 owing to the exertions of certain Pongyis formerly
attached to the place. In order to ensure protection for the new town
the Pongyis induced the people to build a barrack at their own expense
for the police. Similarly, in July, 1887, when I was at Ngathaingyaung
in the Bassein district of Lower Burma the people were glad to have a
detachment of Bengal Infantry (7th Regiment) in one of the monasteries.
They welcomed them. One of the monks had learned Hindustani from the
men; and the Abbot, or head Pongyi, told me he would gladly give up his
own monastery if it was wanted for the soldiers.
Another matter which occupied my attention in Mandalay at this time was
our position towards the Chinese in Upper Burma. They are most numerous
in the Northern Division and congregate in Bhamo and Mandalay. They
numbered according to the census of 1901 about ten thousand, and may
have been less in 1887. Owing to their energy in trade and their wealth
they formed a not insignificant body, and like most bodies they had
their grievances.
It was arranged to hold a meeting in order to let them state their
complaints. All the prominent Chinese in Mandalay attended the
meeting, and Mr. Warry was present to interpret for me. They had minor
grievances about the collection of the jade duties and the farm of the
india-rubber tax in the Mogaung subdivisions. These things were easily
arranged. The chief subject of complaint, however, was the difficulty
in procuring and trading in opium, a matter not to be easily settled.
The regulations issued by the Chief Commissioner in March, 1886,
practically stopped the traffic. The words were these:--
"No shops whatever will be licensed for the sale of opium, inasmuch
as all respectable classes of Burmans are against legalizing the
consumption of opium in the new province. Any one found selling opium
to persons other than Chinese, or transporting opium in quantities
above three tolahs, or keeping a saloon for consuming opium, will
be liable on conviction to a fine not exceeding Rs. 500 or to three
months' imprisonment, or to both. As traffic in opium was absolutely
prohibited under the Burmese Government, there will be no hardship in
thus proscribing opium dealings."
The Chinese, however, considered it the greatest hardship. The small
quantity, little more than one ounce troy weight, which might be
lawfully transported, practically stopped dealings in the drug. This
provision may not seem to go beyond the regulations of the Burmese
Government. But there was all the difference between a rule meant to
be enforced and one that could be easily evaded or was not intended
to be made effective. No doubt the prohibition by the King of the use
of opium by Burmans was real, and was backed by religious precept and
influence; but the restrictions on the Chinese were laxly administered
and were not too inconvenient to them.
If the Burmese alone had been concerned, opium might have been
prohibited altogether, and the prohibition might have been made
effectual, for it would have been backed by a very strong religious
sanction. But the Chinamen had to be considered. It was contrary to
our interests and wishes, especially at that time, in Upper Burma to
make things unpleasant for them. They are at all times a useful and
enterprising element in the population, although the ingenuity of the
least reputable amongst them in exploiting the Burmans and leading them
to gamble and to smoke opium requires to be firmly checked.
A second objection to prohibition, and even greater than the
hardship and annoyance it would cause to the Chinese, was the great
difficulty--almost impossibility, it may be said--of enforcing it.
Opium is perhaps as easy, and in Burma as profitable, to smuggle as
any article in the world. The Chinese are born smugglers. The poppy is
largely cultivated in Yunnan and in the hilly country on the Salween.
To prevent smuggling of opium overland into Burma would require a very
large expenditure and a numerous establishment. The thousand miles of
coast would be equally difficult to watch. If the growth of the poppy
is prevented in China and India it may perhaps become practicable to
stop opium from entering Burma. It was futile at that time and under
those circumstances to attempt absolute prohibition.
The Indian Excise and Opium Acts were extended to Upper Burma in
the latter half of 1888. The restrictions on the sale to Burmans of
opium and intoxicants were maintained--and neither excise licence nor
opium-shop was allowed in any place where the non-Burman population was
not considerable. Yunnan opium, which had hitherto come in free, was
subjected to a duty. The result was a great increase in the price of
opium in Upper Burma and at the same time energetic smuggling; while
it was believed, that so far as the restrictions against the sale of
liquor or opium to Burmans were effectual, their efficacy was due,
as in the King's time, more to the strength of the Buddhist religion
than to the power of the British Government and the honesty of its
magistrates. No further change was introduced while I was in Burma.
An excitement, however, arose in England, and the societies who,
belonging to one of the most intemperate races in the world, make it
their vocation to preach temperance to the most abstemious and sober of
nations, drove the Government of India to experiment on Burma. Since
1893 one device after another has been tried to prevent Burmans from
getting opium. The results appear to have been that contraband opium
has been driven to some extent from the market; that the consumption
of Government opium which has paid duty has doubled; that hundreds of
people are punished yearly, not a few on false charges, for offences
against the Opium Act, many of them by imprisonment; that the use of
cocaine and other drugs worse than opium has been substituted for it,
and in spite of the police is growing.
The following passage from a very excellent and accurate handbook of
Burma by Sir J. George Scott, K.C.I.E. (Alexander Moring, Ltd., 1906)
is worth quoting as the opinion of a man who knows the country well:--
"In Kokang and the Wa States the out-turn (of opium) runs to tons. West
of the Salween, Loimaw is the only place where opium is systematically
grown for profit. The cultivators are all Chinamen, and the amount
produced in the season reaches about four thousand pounds. The price
ranges from twelve to fifteen rupees for three and a half pounds. No
doubt a very great deal is smuggled into Burma by opium-roads--tracks
only passable by coolies, and not known to many. It is to be noted that
there are no victims to opium in the opium-producing districts, any
more than there are in Ssu-ch'uan, where the people are the wealthiest
in China and half the crops are poppy. It is only in places where opium
is prohibitive in price that there are victims to opium. If a man is
accustomed to take opium, he must have it to soothe his nerves under
excessive fatigue; if he lives in a malarious district, it is necessary
to kill the bacteria. When such a man is poor and comes to a place
where opium duty is high, he has to starve himself to get the anodyne
for his muscles, quivering under the weight of loads which no white
man could carry, or to soothe the racking fever in his bones. He dies
of want and opium is denounced. Where opium is cheap, the people are
healthy and stalwart and the women are fruitful. East of the Salween
the universal opinion of opium is that of the Turk, who stamps on his
opium lozenges _Mash Alla'h_, 'the gift of God.' Some of the Wa eat as
well as smoke opium; but, so far as is known, regular opium-eating is
rare, and none of the races drink it in the form of an emulsion, like
the _Kusumba_ of the Rajputs. West of the Salween, the European cant
about opium has penetrated. A Shan either tells deliberate lies or says
he only smokes when he has fever. The Rumai is pious and hypocritical,
and says his opium is intended for his ponies or for cases of malarial
fever. There are, of course, cases of excess, but the opium victim
is never the hideous spectacle of the man sodden with alcohol or the
repulsive bestiality that the man becomes who takes food to excess"
(pp. 268-69).
The only laws that will preserve the Burmans from the evils of opium
and alcohol and other drugs are the teachings of Buddha. So long as
they preserve their vigour and command the Burmans' belief, there
is not much fear. The danger is that Buddhism will be undermined by
Western education and contact with Europe, before it can be replaced
by a better and stronger faith. The number of young Burmans coming to
England is increasing. Will they return as abstemious and as temperate
as they came? They will not: the danger to the Burman is probably more
from alcohol than from opium, and more from contact with the West than
with China.[13]
This question, however, had no influence whatever on the work we
were engaged in. I was able to reassure the Chinese and to make them
feel that the Government desired to treat them with fairness and
consideration. The Chinese in Burma behaved throughout these stormy
years as loyal citizens. There were at first numerous reports of
hostile gatherings on or near the Chinese frontier, especially in the
north of Hsenwi and at Hpunkan, near Bhamo. They had little foundation
in fact. The only case in which it is certain that an armed body of
Chinese entered Burma was in January, 1889. A strong body of Chinamen,
chiefly deserters from the Chinese army and outlaws, gathered on the
Molè stream north-east of Bhamo. They were promptly attacked by the
police and so severely handled that they were not heard of again.
Still less influence on the restoration of order had the Ruby Mines
affair, which excited the British public and enabled parliamentary
busybodies to create an absurd fuss. The whole question of these mines
and their administration might well have waited until we had pacified
the country. Even as a source of revenue they were of no great moment,
and if we had left the native miners alone we should have saved the
heavy expense of maintaining a strong force up in the hills and making
a long and costly cart-road from the river. Mogok, the headquarters of
the mines, lies nearly six thousand feet above the sea-level, and is
distant sixty miles by road from the river port of Thabeikkyin, most
of it lying through thick jungle, poisoned with malaria and, in 1887,
infested with dacoits.
The mines were then worked by the Shans, who live on the spot and have
hereditary rights. A proposal had been made by Sir Charles Bernard, and
supported by the Government of India, to give a lease of the mines for
three years to Messrs. Gillanders Arbuthnot, of Calcutta, at an annual
rent of two lakhs of rupees, the equivalent then of about £14,000. This
firm had been accustomed to trade in rubies with the Shans at Mogok.
The proposal was judicious, and would have enabled the Government to
learn the value of the mines before committing themselves for a longer
term, as the firm's books were to be open to inspection.
This proposal, however, did not meet the views of the gentlemen who had
marked down the ruby mines as a field of speculation. A parliamentary
intrigue was got up. Questions were asked--jobs were hinted at. The
enormous value of the mines--the richest ruby mines in the world--was
talked about, until the British public began to see rubies and to
suspect, I verily believe, Sir Charles Bernard and all of us, his
official heirs and successors, of desiring to make dishonest fortunes.
Some of the speculators went to Simla to persuade the Government of
India that Gillanders Arbuthnot's offer was inconceivably ridiculous.
Then they came on to Rangoon with letters of introduction, not
unaccompanied by hints and warnings to be careful, to sniff about the
mines and get the ear of the authorities in Burma. The Secretary of
State trembled lest he should be suspected of favouring somebody; and
if I had destroyed Mandalay or drained the Irrawaddy, I doubt if there
would have been more disturbance than was caused by the grant to one of
the prospectors of a few yards of worthless land at Mogok on which to
erect a hut, and of an ordinary licence to mine.
Eventually an expert was sent out to inspect and value the mines. The
gentleman deputed to this duty was no doubt a skilled mineralogist,
even if he was without previous experience in ruby mines. It is
possible that his report was worth the cost. It was, I take it, a means
of getting out of a parliamentary difficulty. It served the Secretary
of State for India as an excuse for delay, and gave the appearance at
least of a searching and impartial investigation.
Late in 1889 a concession for seven years was granted to five lucky
promoters; and then the course usual in such cases was followed. A
company was floated in London under the auspices of a big financier.
The success for the concessionaires was unexampled. The public,
especially the small investors, in an enthusiasm of greed, tumbled
over each other to secure shares. In November, 1889, the company began
to work. Its history since has not been one of remarkable prosperity
either for the Government or the shareholders. The terms have been
revised several times. The receipts of the Government from the company
in 1903-4 were Rs. 2,11,500, or £14,000.
The history of this matter is interesting only as an example of the
futility of interfering with the Government of India in local matters.
To the administration of Burma it meant more writing, more labour, more
anxiety, when attention was needed elsewhere. When a man's house is
on fire he does not want to spend time in polishing the handle of his
door. I was compelled to keep at Mogok better men and a stronger force
than the district needed. For some years there was much disturbance in
the neighbouring country. But it was unconnected with the mines.
It is a defect in parliamentary government that so many members,
avoiding the really important matters, fasten greedily on lesser
questions, especially those which promise a scandal. As Parliament
chose to look at this matter as one of imperial interest, the mines
acquired an importance out of all proportion to their value. I found
the ruby mines was a burning question, and I had to go there without
delay. I left Mandalay on the 29th of March in a steamer for Kyannyat,
which was then the river station for Bernard Myo and Mogok, with Mr.
Herbert White and my private secretary. We rode the forty miles from
the river to Sagadaung, the halting-place at the foot of the hills,
taking as we went an escort of five mounted men (Gurkhas) from the
military posts on the road, and stopped there for the night. From
Sagadoung a mule-path (twenty miles) took us to Bernard Myo, where I
halted, and next day rode into Mogok.
The regulations and conditions under which it was proposed to allow the
mines to be worked were explained to the native mineowners and to the
persons present on behalf of the applicants for the concession, and the
way was cleared for a settlement.
A matter of more importance, although not one in which Parliament was
interested, was the dispute about Möngmit and Mohlaing (explained in
Chapter XX.). The Sawbwa of Möngmit and his ministers, as well as the
claimant, Hkam Leng, had been summoned to attend me. The latter did not
appear. He was one of the few irreconcilables Upper Burma produced. The
investigation of the case satisfied me that he had no title to Möngmit,
and I ordered him to be informed that his claim to that State was
inadmissible, but that he would be recognised as chief of Mohlaing if
he appeared and submitted.
After a few days at Mogok I returned to the river, marching down by
the Thabeikkyin road. We were obliged to go slowly, as it was thought
necessary to take an escort of twenty-five Gurkhas. One Paw Kwe, the
headman of a village on the road, the influential brigand in these
parts and one of the most evil-looking rascals I ever met, accompanied
the Deputy Commissioner, Mr. Carter,[14] and was in a measure
responsible that no mischief should befall us. In the hope of keeping
him quiet I gave him a subsidy for carrying the mails. But he preferred
unemployment and took again to the jungle after a time, and, I believe,
became an irreconcilable.
The leisurely march down gave time to take up some matters of
importance that were waiting for me.
In the forefront of pressing questions was the provision of a
sufficient fleet of steam-launches. The delta of the Irrawaddy,
where the population is most dense and most wealthy, is a country of
rivers and creeks, where most of the transport is by boats. In the
rice-harvest season the waterways are much used by the Burman craft
carrying rice to the mills at Rangoon or Bassein, or making their way
homeward with the money for which it has been sold.
The waterways needed to be patrolled. The disorders following the
annexation extended to the creeks and rivers, and river pirates had
become more daring and the necessity of a well-formed service of river
police more urgent. Lower Burma was not well provided in this matter;
and being unable to obtain funds, the administration was driven to
apply local funds intended for roads to the purchase of launches.
In the Upper Province the want of suitable boats was even greater.
There were some six hundred miles of waterway to be served. The rivers
were the main lines of communication, and on the banks were placed
in most cases the headquarters of districts, the military stations
and outposts, and most of the larger villages and busier markets. At
first, until I had time to revise administrative boundaries, several
districts included land on both banks. Insurgents and dacoits had no
difficulty in obtaining boats for the purposes of attacking river craft
or waterside villages, or of escaping from pursuit. Once or twice we
were compelled to put an embargo on the boats to hinder the enemy from
getting across, but it was impossible to interfere thus with the river
life of the province, except under great necessity and for a very short
time.
To meet the demands of the soldiers, the police, and the district
officers, and, before the telegraph service was complete, to keep up
communication between stations and outposts, many boats were required.
It was also necessary to have the means of moving small bodies of
troops up and down or across the river without delay as the need might
arise.
[Illustration: MANDALAY.]
I had little difficulty in showing the need for a better fleet. But
the Government of India were startled at my demands. The Director of
Indian Marine, Captain John Hext, R.N. (now Rear-Admiral Sir John Hext,
K.C.I.E.), was sent down to persuade me to reduce the size and cost of
my navy. He was successful, and might perhaps succeed in persuading
the Emperor of Germany to limit his naval armaments. He had designed
an excellent type of river boat, a very light-draught paddle-wheeler,
with simple machinery and fair speed, with accommodation for half a
company of rifles and a couple of officers. They were built under his
instructions in the Government dockyard at Kidderpore. Being his own
creation, he named them the X type. In Burma they were called after
every type of robber known to the country. It was agreed that I was
to have nine of these boats and four smaller craft. I had asked for
twenty-three boats, and looking back, I am surprised at my moderation.
At the present time, after twenty years of peace and freedom from
organized crime, I believe the Burma Government has a fleet four times
as large as that with which I had to be content. But then I was, as it
were, a pioneer.
I was back in Mandalay on the 10th of April. There were some gleams of
light between the clouds. Baw or Maw, a small Shan State on the Kyauksè
border, had been brought to reason by General East without fighting:
the Kalè Sawbwa on the Chindwin had completed the payment of his
tribute: Hla U, the most noted leader in the Sagaing district, had been
killed by his own men, who were sick of the life.
On the other side of the account, Sinbyugyun, a post north of Salin
in the Minbu district, held by a military garrison of fifty men, had
been attacked twice and partially burnt. The news from the Northern
Shan States was somewhat disquieting. A desultory warfare was going on
in Hsenwi between the hereditary chief of the State, who had allied
himself with the pretender, Saw Yan Naing, and San Ton Hon, the usurper
in possession of Northern Hsenwi, supported by the Sawbwa of Hsipaw. It
was reported that San Ton Hon was being driven back, and it was feared
that the Hsipaw chief, who was our only assured friend in the Shan
States, might suffer a repulse. It seemed at one time that it might
become necessary to send an officer to Hsipaw with a small force. I was
unwilling to take this step. I wished to leave the Northern Shan States
alone until the next open season, and then to deal with the settlement
of the States as a whole. The rains, moreover, were now near at hand,
and Sir George White disliked moving troops into the hills if it could
be avoided. I held a party of military police ready, and had obtained
the Viceroy's consent to act, if it should be necessary. Meanwhile arms
and ammunition were sent up to Hsipaw, and the Sawbwa, who was not more
incapable or half-hearted than his opponents, contrived to hold his own
until the next open season.
The military police were arriving now, and were being distributed and
sent to their various destinations.
I could do little more by remaining in Mandalay. The most urgent
matters in connection with the police were the definition of their
duties and of their relations with the civil officers, their housing,
rationing, and medical treatment. Until, as I stated before, these
matters had been discussed and settled with the new Inspector-General
of Police, little progress could be made in relieving the soldiers from
occupying the small posts.
General Stedman was expected to arrive in Rangoon about the middle of
May, and it was convenient that he should meet me there.
Another matter which called me to Rangoon was the condition of Lower
Burma. Shortly before I took charge the Government of India had called
the Chief Commissioner's attention to the state of the province, "the
constant occurrence of petty dacoities (gang robberies), the apparent
want of concerted and energetic action in dealing with them which,"
they wrote, "have attracted the serious notice of the Governor-General
in Council. His Excellency trusts that the subject may receive your
immediate and active intervention."
The condition of the province was bad from a police point of view. The
people had enjoyed excellent harvests and good prices. Yet there was a
constant recurrence of crime, and the police quite failed to cope with
it. The excitement of the last year or two had been too much for the
younger Burmans. They could not settle down again, and the spirit of
loot and adventure rather than any real patriotism led to numerous gang
robberies, and sometimes to foolish outbreaks, of which men from Upper
Burma were sometimes the instigators.
Even within a short distance of Rangoon an Upper Burman, related, it
was said, to the Minbu leader, Ôktama, raised the Golden Umbrella and
called for followers. Some hundreds obeyed the call, but at the first
sight of the police they began to disperse. A party of Karens, led by a
British police officer, came up with some of them, killed and wounded
several, captured others, and made an end of the rising.
The Karens in Lower Burma were loyal and generally staunch, especially
the Christian Karens. The American Baptist missionaries have done an
inestimable service to the Karen race. They understand thoroughly
how to educate--in the true sense of the word--a tribe that has been
despised and trodden down for some generations. The missionary has
made himself not only the pastor but also the chief of his people,
and in those troubled times he organized them under their catechists,
taught them discipline and obedience, and made them useful and orderly
members of society, industrious, self-respecting, and independent. The
Government of Burma owes a debt to the American Baptist Mission which
should not be forgotten.
On receipt of this letter from the Government of India, reports from
Commissioners and from the head of the police had been called for.
Their answers were now before me. The Inspector-General of Police in
Lower Burma was the late Mr. Jameson, an officer of ability and long
experience. He frankly admitted that the police administration had
failed in suppressing organized brigandage. "So far," he wrote, "from
the crime of dacoity having been eradicated by British administration,
each year more dacoities are committed than in the one preceding." He
attributed this failure to defects in the judicial courts, especially
the Court of Revision and Appeal, which resulted in making punishment
very uncertain and sentences capricious; to the absence of any law
establishing a village organization and responsibility; and to the
number of arms in the hands of the peasantry, who received them for
their self-defence against dacoits, but gave them or lost them to the
robbers. The result was, Mr. Jameson asserted, that after thirty-five
years of British rule the country "was in a more disturbed state than
after the second war."
There is no doubt that the judicial administration in Lower Burma
was defective. The Judicial Commissioner who presided over the Chief
Appellate and Revising Court for the interior of the province was
selected by the Government of India from the members of the Indian
Civil Service of one of the Indian provinces, and seldom stayed long
in Burma. It is no libel on the distinguished men who have held this
position to say that as a rule they had no knowledge of the language
or customs of the people or of the conditions of Burma. They came from
some quiet province of India, and were unable at first to appreciate
those conditions. One of them might think the sentences awarded by the
magistrates too severe; his successor might pronounce them to be too
lenient.
There was a tendency to forget that an act--for example, shooting a
thief or burglar at sight--which in a quiet and settled country may
be a crime, may be excusable in a state of society where plunder and
murder by armed robbers are everyday occurrences.
Much mischief may be and was done by well-intentioned but inept
judicial action; neither the police nor the people knew how far they
might go in defending themselves or in effecting the capture of
criminals, and circulars were issued explaining the law which would
have puzzled the Chief Justice. A Burman peasant before he fired his
gun had to consider whether all the conditions justified him; and a
frontier guard had to pause with his finger on the trigger while he
recalled the words of the last circular on the use of firearms. The
result was that the police and the people were nervous and demoralized.
It was better to let the dacoit pass or to run away than to run the
risk of a trial for murder.
This may seem exaggeration. On one occasion when the prisoners in a
central gaol mutinied, the armed guard stood idle, until at last, when
the convicts were breaking out, one of the guards took his courage in
both hands and fired. The riot was checked. I wished to reward the man,
but the superintendent of the gaol reported that he could not discover
who had fired the shot. The warders said they did not doubt the
Chief Commissioner's power to reward them, but they knew the Judicial
Commissioner would hang the man who fired the gun.
The freedom with which licences to possess firearms had been granted in
Lower Burma was no doubt responsible for the facility with which the
bad characters could arm themselves. Every day's experience proved that
to arm the villagers was to arm the dacoits. Burmans are incredibly
careless. Even the Burman constables, who were to some extent trained
and disciplined, constantly allowed their guns to be taken. A
half-hearted measure had been in force in Lower Burma, which required
that a village must have at least five guns, as it was thought that
with that number they could defend themselves. Like most half-measures,
it was of no use.
The absence of a village organization and of the means of enforcing
village responsibility was no doubt a very great obstacle in the way
of the police, even if the police had been good. But when everything
had been said it came to this, that the police were bad and police
administration in a hopeless muddle.
The Burmans have, from the first day that British officers have tried
to discipline them, shown a great want of responsibility and incurable
slackness and little sense of duty. They cannot be trusted to keep
watch and ward, to guard or escort prisoners or treasure, or even
to remain on duty if they are posted as sentries. The discipline of
Frederick the Great might have improved them. But he would have shot
most of his men before he had made trustworthy soldiers of the few that
remained.
Hence it came to pass that Indians were enlisted to perform the duties
which the Burmans seemed unable to fulfil. A few Indians were posted to
every station for these purposes, and the Burmans were employed mainly
on detection and investigation and reporting. This system led to still
further deterioration of the Burman constable, who ceased to rely on
his own courage or resources.
The Indians, again, were recruited locally. The police officers who
recruited them had no experience of the Indian races and did not know
one caste from another. The most unfit men were taken. They were
not much looked after, and their officers did not know the Indian
languages or understand their customs.
When the risings took place in Shwègyin and elsewhere after the
annexation, the Burma police showed themselves to be absolutely
untrustworthy. More Indians were enrolled and the mischief increased.
The Burman knew he had behaved badly and was not trusted, and became
more untrustworthy, while the Indians were not under proper discipline,
scattered about as they were in small parties, and were in any case
quite useless for detective or ordinary police purposes. The only
exception to this condemnation of the indigenous police that could be
made was, I think, the armed frontier guard in the Thayetmyo district,
who were stationed and housed with their families on the frontier of
British Burma.
It was clear that the working of the police force in Lower Burma
required thorough investigation, and that its constitution would have
to be recast. As necessary subsidiary measures, the country would have
to be thoroughly disarmed, and above all a village organization must be
created and the joint responsibility of the village for certain crimes
enforced.
A committee was appointed to consider the best method of reforming
the civil police force of Lower Burma. I took in hand the question of
thoroughly disarming the whole province, and a bill dealing with Lower
Burma villages on the lines of the Upper Burma village regulation was
framed.
These matters would take some time. The Indian police, however,
could be improved at once. It was decided to remove all Indians from
the civil police, and to enroll them in a regiment under a military
commandant, similar to one of the Upper Burma military police
battalions in formation and discipline. Their headquarters were to be
at Rangoon, and the men needed for other districts were to be sent
from Rangoon and treated as detachments of the regiment. They were to
be enrolled for three years under a Military Police Act, which was
passed in 1887. Pending the report of the Committee and the measures
that might be taken on their advice, it was necessary to act at once
in the most disordered parts of the province. Especially in portions
of the Shwègyin district in Tharawaddy, and in the northern townships
of Thayetmyo the dacoit gangs were strong and active. The ordinary
district staff seemed helpless and unable to make head against the
brigands, to whose exactions the peasants had become accustomed.
They found it easier to make terms with the criminals than to help a
government that was unable to protect them.
I adopted the plan of selecting a young officer known for his activity
and character, and placing him in charge of the disturbed tract, giving
him a sufficient police force and magisterial powers, and making him
independent of the Deputy Commissioner of the district, who continued
to conduct the ordinary administration. This special officer had no
other duty than to hunt down and punish the gangs of outlaws. He was
to be always out and always on their tracks, using every means in his
power to make friends with the villagers and induce them to give him
information and help against the common enemy.
This policy succeeded, and the disturbed districts were brought into
line. The late Mr. Henry Todd Naylor,[15] of the Indian Civil Service,
distinguished himself especially in this work, and won a well-merited
decoration from the Viceroy.
I had made up my mind to dispense with the services of the Special
Commissioner for Lower Burma as soon as possible. The appointment was
undoubtedly necessary at first, when communications were bad, but as
the province settled down the need was less and the saving of labour
to me very little. The responsibility remained with me. I was bound
to know everything that went on, and in such matters as the condition
of the province the Government of India expected me to intervene
personally.
The work and exposure since the annexation were beginning to tell on
the members of the Commission, especially on those who had sustained
the heaviest burdens of responsibility and had been most exposed to the
climate, and I was hard pressed for men to fill the places of those
who wanted leave.[16] An accident happening to the Commissioner of
Tennasserim, I decided to send Mr. Hodgkinson there and to take the
Lower Burma work into my own hands.
An increase to the Secretariat had been sanctioned in April, 1887.
This enabled me to save a man by appointing Mr. Smeaton (the late
Donald Mackenzie Smeaton,[17] C.S.I., M.P.), to the newly created
post of Chief Secretary. He had served for some years in Burma, with
distinction, under Sir Charles Aitchison and Sir Charles Bernard.
In a short time the Secretariats were united in Rangoon and the work
distributed into the ordinary departments of Indian administration
without reference to territorial division.
On the arrival of General Stedman in the middle of May (1887), the
Upper Burma military police questions were brought under discussion.
The men, as I have said before, were coming in fast. The sanctioned
strength at this time was fifteen thousand five hundred men. It was
necessary to determine the constitution of the force, its relation to
the Deputy Commissioners of districts, and the methods by which it was
to be rationed and kept supplied with necessaries.
These matters had been thought out before General Stedman's arrival.
They were now discussed with him in detail, and the general lines to
be followed were laid down. Briefly, the following constitution was
adopted:--
The keynote of Indian administration was, and I believe still is, that
the District Magistrate or Deputy Commissioner, or by whatever name he
may be called, is the executive representative of the Government, and
is responsible for all matters in his district subject to the control
of the Commissioner of the division. He is especially responsible for
the peace of his district, and therefore the allocation of the police
force rests primarily with him. It was laid down for the guidance of
Deputy Commissioners that the most important and central posts should
be occupied by fairly strong bodies of military police, to which should
be attached a few Burman constables, some of whom were to be mounted,
who were to collect information, receive reports, and investigate
cases. Between the military police posts, and helping to link them up,
were to be civil police stations manned by Burmans exclusively, who
were to be locally recruited. A constant and systematic patrol was to
be maintained between the military police posts. The posts were to be
fortified and capable of defence by the garrison remaining after the
despatch of a patrol. It was laid down as a fixed law that the reserve
at headquarters must be sufficient to provide a reasonably strong
movable column ready to reinforce any part of the district that might
need it.
The police force was divided into battalions, one to each district,
of a strength varying with the size and wants of the district. To
each battalion was appointed a commandant, to all except a few very
small battalions a second-in-command, and to some more than one. These
officers were all selected from the Indian Army, and, with very rare
exceptions, were capable men. The interior economy, the training,
and the discipline of the men were left to the commandants under the
Inspector-General's orders. With these matters the civil officials
could not in any way interfere.
It was found necessary from the first to restrain firmly the tendency
of the local officials to fritter away the strength of the force in
small posts. The moment anything occurred they wanted to clap down
a post on the disturbed spot; and if this had been allowed to go on
unchecked there would not have been a man left to form a movable column
or even to send out a patrol of sufficient strength.
The number of men to be kept at headquarters, the minimum strength of a
post, and the minimum number of a patrol had to be absolutely laid down
by the Chief Commissioner's order. At first the strength prescribed was
too small. After some experience, the lowest post garrison was fixed at
forty rifles, the minimum strength of a patrol at ten rifles; and these
orders were stringently enforced.
It was resolved to mount a certain number of the force, and as soon
as the ponies could be obtained--which was not an easy matter, as the
mounted infantry and the army transport took up very many--about 10 per
cent. of the men were mounted.
Many of the military police who arrived in Burma in 1887 were newly
raised and insufficiently trained levies, and until the men had been
drilled and taught to use their weapons it was impossible to do much
towards relieving the soldiers from the outposts. The rainy season was
occupied in the work of instruction. The task was performed under very
difficult conditions, for the men were often called away to occupy
posts and take part in active operations, and the officers were few.
The duty was well done, and by the end of the autumn of 1887 we were
in possession of an army, which proved itself to be a most serviceable
instrument for reducing the country to order. The men, whether in the
field or in their lines, behaved exceedingly well.
Hardly less important than the constitution of the force was its
maintenance in a state of contentment and efficiency. At the beginning
of 1887 the number of military police landed in Burma was between
five and six thousand, and as the year advanced the force was fast
increasing. As the men arrived they were rapidly distributed to the
districts of Upper Burma, and when trained were destined to relieve the
troops in distant outposts.
It was necessary to make immediate arrangements for their rations and
for renewing their clothing, equipment, and ammunition; and also for
the medical treatment of the men. The principal medical officer of
the field force kindly undertook to organize the medical service, and
Captain Davis was engaged in working out the details.
Captain S. C. F. Peile, who, in 1885, had accompanied the Bengal
Brigade of the field force as executive commissariat officer, had been
selected to organize the supply business of the police force. He was
ready to commence work early in April. The rains in Burma begin in May.
Large numbers of the police were stationed in the Eastern Division,
where cart traffic would soon become impossible, and also in the Ruby
Mines and other districts, which would soon be cut off altogether.
I had found at several places that the military police at outposts were
not properly rationed and depended on the military commissariat, which
might at any time be moved away.
The question arose as to the best method of supplying our men. One of
the conditions under which they had taken service was that they should,
as in the army, get money compensation for dearness of provisions at
a rate varying with the price of flour. The men of the Indian army,
when not on active service, ration themselves, and are paid on this
principle. But this system presupposes that the necessary provisions
are procurable in the local markets.
The Burman markets afford everything that a Burman needs--Burman
caviare, a dainty that one has to be brought up to; tinned milk,
biscuits, sardines, and other delicacies; but wheat flour, _ghi_
(clarified butter), and various pulses are not to be had. It is on such
things that the fighting man from Northern India lives.
After discussing the question carefully with Captain Peile, it was
determined, with the consent of the men, to give no compensation and
to serve out rations to all at a fixed monthly charge. The Central
Direction undertook to deliver sufficient supplies at the headquarters
of each battalion. The distribution to the outposts was to be managed
by the battalion officers with the battalion transport.
I was able to say at the end of the year that the Supply Department had
worked well, and that without its aid the organization of the military
police could not have been effected. The system has stood the trial
of more than twenty years, and it is doubtful whether any cheaper or
better system could have been devised for the supply of a large force
in similar circumstances.
The same establishment under Captain Peile provided for the supply and
renewal of clothing, arms, and ammunition.
These matters and the work connected with the many parts of the
administrative machine of the province gave me ample occupation in
Rangoon for some weeks.
FOOTNOTES:
[9] "Legend of Gaudama," vol. ii., p. 319. (Trübner, 1880.)
[10] _Ibid._, p. 242.
[11] _Ibid._, p. 303.
[12] "Legend of Gaudama," vol. ii., p. 303.
[13] A summary of the measures taken in Burma is given in the report of
"The Committee appointed by the Philippine Commission to investigate
the use of opium and the traffic therein," which deals with the
evidence in a sane and judicial manner. (See "The Province of Burma,"
by Alleyne Ireland, F.R.G.S., vol. ii., p. 845 _et seq._)
[14] Mr. G. M. S. Carter had served in the Police Department in
British Burma for eleven years and had made a reputation for ability
and knowledge of the people. In June, 1886, he was appointed to be an
Assistant Commissioner and posted to Upper Burma. Mr. Carter was one of
the best executive officers in the Commission, and his death in 1890
was a severe loss to the Government and a sorrow to all of us, his
comrades and friends.
[15] Mr. Todd Taylor, C.S.I., C.I.E., died last year, after acting as
Financial Commissioner of Burma.
[16] Amongst others, Mr. Burgess, Mr. Fryer, Mr. Symes, and Mr. Carter
were asking for leave. Of these only Mr. Fryer (Sir Frederic Fryer,
K.C.S.I.) is alive. The others are dead many years.
[17] Mr. Smeaton was at this time serving in the North-Western (now
United) Provinces of India.
CHAPTER V
DEALING WITH DACOITS
It was about this time (May, 1887) that the news of the surrender
of the Limbin prince to Mr. Hildebrand, and the submission of the
influential Sawbwa of Möngnai came to remove some of our anxieties.
Lord Dufferin telegraphed his congratulations to me: "These
circumstances," he said, "greatly clear the air." They proved in effect
that we need not apprehend any very serious opposition in the Shan
States, and that there was no risk in holding that country with a small
force during the rains, on which point there were apprehensions in some
quarters.
Good news came also from Upper Burma. A noted gang, led by men of more
force than the ordinary leaders of dacoits possessed, had surrendered
to Major Ilderton, who commanded a post at Wundwin, in the Meiktila
district. The gang was known by the name of the place, Hmawwaing, where
it made its retreat, and it had sustained several severe attacks before
the leaders gave in, of whom two had been village headmen and the third
had been a Government servant under the King. The three had long worked
together; and before the annexation they had dominated the northern
part of Meiktila. They were pardoned, and provision made for their
support. Two of them absconded. They soon found, however, that their
influence was gone. The country was weary of them. One (Maung Kala)
died of fever; a second (Myat Hmon) gave himself up again. The third
(Maung Ohn), the most educated and best bred of them, had remained
quiet.
It was now necessary for me to return to Upper Burma, but I had not
yet met Mr. Tucker, the Commissioner of the Eastern Division. As the
rains were beginning, and the extension of the railway beyond Toungoo
had not been opened, I asked Mr. Tucker to meet me at Toungoo. I could
not spare time to march up to his headquarters. The chief engineer of
the Mandalay Railway, Mr. Buyers, was pushing on the line as fast as he
could. He had many difficulties to contend with. The Burmans, although
coming readily to the work, were new to it. The working parties had to
be protected; the heavy forest in some divisions of the line had to be
cleared. I had seen Mr. Buyers and satisfied myself that work was going
on well.
I met Mr. Tucker, and received from him a fairly satisfactory account
of his division. Meiktila and Yamèthin were almost quiet. Pyinmana was
a difficult tract to reduce to order. It is described in the _Burma
Gazetteer_ as "one large forest with the exception of the immediate
surroundings of Pyinmana town and small patches of cultivation near
the villages and streams." The station had been for some months almost
besieged by dacoits, who took cover close to our lines. So much so that
the postmaster, who came from a peaceful district, put up a notice
closing the post-office as "urgent private affairs" compelled him to
leave. It needed a good deal of peaceful persuasion to induce him to
remain at his work.
In April, May, and June the troops of Sir William Lockhart's command,
aided to some extent by the police, were very active. The forests
and all the hiding-places were thoroughly explored and for the time
at least cleared of dacoits. Meanwhile the civil officers, under the
energetic direction of Mr. H. St. G. Tucker, vigorously disarmed the
district, making full use of the men of local influence. By the middle
of June, when Mr. Tucker met me, only small bands were left, who were
forced to conceal themselves, and there was little trouble afterwards
in this district. But the difficult country of the Pegu Yoma between
Pyinmana and the Magwè district of the Southern Division continued to
harbour dacoits until 1890.
I returned to Rangoon from Toungoo and left for Upper Burma on the 10th
of June. Going by the river, I stopped at all the towns on the way up,
seeing the officers, inspecting every part of the administration, and
discussing affairs.
In Lower Burma the towns and villages showed their wonted comfort
and prosperity, the boats were as numerous as ever, and the rice and
other produce was waiting in abundance at the landing-places for the
steamers. The disturbances had had little effect on trade.
The country inland to the west of the river was still harassed by
predatory gangs in the wilder parts, and the police did not appear able
to suppress them.
There was no need, however, for the aid of the soldiers. I was able
to reduce the number of outposts occupied by troops, and I would have
reduced them still more, but that the General Commanding in Lower Burma
was unable to provide barrack-room for the men occupying them. It was
clearly time to take up the question of reducing the garrison of Lower
Burma.
It was not a good thing to accustom the civil officers, the police,
or the people to depend on detachments of troops scattered over
the country, and it certainly was not good for the discipline
and efficiency of the men. The conduct of the soldiers, however,
was excellent, and the people welcomed them. I found a general
unwillingness to lose the sense of security which their presence
gave; and possibly also the profits of dealings with them. The Indian
soldiers and the Burmans were on excellent terms. Even where the men
were quartered in the monasteries the Pongyis did not want them to
leave.[18]
At Thayetmyo the region of dacoit gangs and disturbances was reached.
The main trouble appeared to be in what may be termed Bo Swè's country,
which lay on the right bank of the river, reaching from the old British
Burma boundary to a line going westward with a slight southerly curve
from Minhla to the Arakan mountains. Part of the trouble I thought
arose from the fact that the jurisdiction of the Lower Burma command
had been extended so as to cover this country, while the civil
jurisdiction belonged to the Minbu district of Upper Burma. This
impeded free communication between the civil and military authorities.
I transferred the tract to Thayetmyo, made it a subdivision of that
district, and put a young and energetic officer in charge. The tract
across the river was similarly treated.
I was now in Upper Burma again. Minbu on both sides of the river (it
extended to both banks at this time) was very disturbed. Ôktama's power
was not broken. Villages were attacked and burnt, and friendly headmen
were murdered.
Pagan, the next district, was not much better; and divided as it was
by the river, and containing the troublesome Yaw tract, the civil
authorities were somewhat handicapped. From Pagan I crossed over to
Pakokku, even then a fine trading town and the centre, as it still is,
of the boat-building industry. The town in 1887 had a population of
about 5,000, which had increased in 1901 to 19,000. It was well laid
out with handsome avenues of tamarind-trees. Standing on good sandy
soil and well drained, it was a fine site for the headquarters of a
district.
The town and its neighbourhood had been skilfully governed by a lady,
the widow of the old Governor, who had died thirty years before. Her
son, a very fat and apparently stupid youth, was titular town-mayor
(_Myo-thugyi_); but because he was suspected of playing false, through
fear of the insurgents, he had been superseded, and a stranger from
Lower Burma appointed as magistrate.
The wisdom of importing men from Lower Burma was always, to my mind,
doubtful, and in this case was peculiarly open to objection, as it
was a slight to the widow, who was undoubtedly an able woman, and had
joined the British cause from the first.
It was said that in 1885 she was ordered by the King's Government to
block the channel by sinking boats, of which there were always plenty
at Pakokku; she let all the Upper Burma craft go--for a consideration,
of course--and sunk some boats which belonged to British Burma. She was
alleged to have made a thousand pounds by this transaction, which is
very characteristic of the East.
I called on this old lady and had some conversation with her, and I
would gladly have seen more of her, as she appeared to be a woman of
some power. It was arranged to remove the Lower Burman magistrate and
to send an English Assistant Commissioner, who would work through the
hereditary Governor and his mother.
At Myingyan, the next station, I found the best of my officers was
Captain Hastings,[19] the commandant of the military police, who was
fast making his men into a very fine battalion, with which before
long he did excellent service. I waited at Myingyan to see General
Sir Robert Low, who had been at Mandalay. He was satisfied about the
progress in his district, except in the country about Salin, Ôktama's
country, and in Taundwingyi, which he said was full of dacoits, and
would probably be their last abiding-place.
It was a true prophecy, as I learnt to my sorrow. Partly owing to the
very difficult country on its east border, and partly, perhaps even
more, to the incompetence and weakness of the local officers, this
district became my shame and despair. But at this time I had not been
over the Taundwingyi country.
My next halt was at Myinmu, the headquarters of a subdivision of the
Sagaing district, on the right bank, about thirty miles below Sagaing.
Mr. Macnabb, a young soldier who had lately joined the Commission, was
there as subdivisional officer. His report was not very satisfactory.
Myinmu, for some reason or other, was especially obnoxious to the
insurgents and was repeatedly attacked. Even quite recently there
has been some trouble at Myinmu, although it is now a station on the
railway which goes from Sagaing to the Chindwin.
Ava, which is a little further up on the opposite side of the river,
was at that time a separate district. But except that it was the old
capital of Burma, and was a favourite ground for dacoits, there was no
reason for keeping a Deputy Commissioner there, and little ordinary
work for him. It was soon to be added to the Sagaing district, to which
it still belongs. There were no troops at this time at Ava; the Indian
military police were good.
I found the experiment of training Burmans as military police still
going on in Ava. It will be remembered that the first idea was to
recruit half the force from the Burmans and other local races. The
commandant called my attention to the gross waste of money that was
involved in this experiment. The Burman officers were hopelessly unfit.
One had been imported from Lower Burma; the other was a half-caste, a
poor specimen of his kind in every way. They were disbanded as soon as
possible.
[Illustration: SHWÈTAKYAT PROMONTORY OPPOSITE SAGAING.]
The dacoits hung about the country under the Ava Deputy Commissioner
for a long time. His jurisdiction did not extend over more than three
hundred and fifty square miles, but it was harried by three noted
guerilla leaders--Shwè Yan, who occupied the country on the borders of
the Kyauksè and Ava districts; Bo Tok, who frequented the borders of
Ava and Myingyan; and the third, Shwè Yan the second, who ravaged the
south-west part of the district. The two last were killed by British
troops. The first and the most formidable of the three was reported to
have disappeared.
It may be mentioned here, as illustrating the persistence of the
insurgents and the apparently endless nature of the task, which
demanded all our patience and perseverance, that in the spring of 1888
Ava was as bad as ever. There were nineteen well-known leaders--"named
varieties," as a gardener might call them--who, in the words of the
official report, "held the countryside in terror." Early in May,
Shwè Yan, whose disappearance had been reported, was again on foot
with a strong body of followers. A force of troops and police which
encountered him lost two British officers.
From Ava I went over to Sagaing and inspected the station and the
police, and crossed to Mandalay the same day. Sir George White met me
on landing, and I rode up with him to my quarters on the wall.
This journey had occupied me eighteen days. I left Rangoon on the 10th
of June, and reached Mandalay on the 28th. But the time had been well
spent in gaining information and in making or renewing acquaintance
with the district officers. I had inspected all stations on the way,
and had been able to dispose of many questions on the spot. When I
was not on shore, the office work and correspondence kept me busy. My
secretary and I had to write on the skylight of the boat, as there was
no accommodation of any kind except a few dressing-rooms below, which
in that climate and at that season were suffocating.
FOOTNOTES:
[18] The same is true of the British soldier, of whom in war or peace
his countrymen cannot be proud enough. When, after the barracks were
built at Mandalay, a regiment (the Royal Munster Fusiliers) was ordered
to leave a great group of monasteries, the abbots and chief Pongyis
came to me with a petition to let the soldiers remain where they were.
[19] Now Major-General Edward Spence Hastings, C.B., D.S.O., Commanding
the Mandalay Brigade. The Myingyan Battalion was in 1892 formed into
the 4th Burma Battalion under its old commandant.