THE TAKING OF MANDALAY
Mr. Burgess having gone to act as Commissioner, I was recalled to the
Secretariat in some haste, in my former capacity as Junior Secretary.
It was in the midst of the excitement of a probable rupture with Upper
Burma. Our relations with the Court of Mandalay had long ceased to be
cordial. So long ago as 1879 our representative had been withdrawn,
and such communications as were necessary with the Burmese Government
had been conducted by letter. In the absence of the Resident matters
gradually drifted from bad to worse. British subjects, travellers
and traders from Lower Burma, were subjected to insult and violence
by local officials, and representations to the central authority
demanding redress were generally fruitless. In contravention of the
express terms of the Treaty of 1867, monopolies were created to
the detriment of trade both in Upper and Lower Burma. Owing to the
weakness and corruption of the Burmese Government, society became
thoroughly disorganized, so that turbulent tracts on the frontier
became a standing menace to the peace of our districts. At the same
time, the Burmese Government showed a marked and persistent anxiety
to enter into alliances with foreign Powers, in such a manner and to
such an extent as to give ground for apprehension that grave political
trouble might result. While the Indian Government was unrepresented in
Mandalay, representatives of France and Italy were welcomed, and two
separate embassies were sent to Europe, one under the guise of a merely
commercial mission, for the purpose of contracting new and if possible
close alliances with European Powers. Neither of these missions visited
England or showed any desire to win the friendship of representatives
of the British Government at the Courts to which the Burmese envoys
were accredited. Throughout the reign of King Mindôn, young scions of
families of leading men about the Court were sent to England, France,
and Italy to study the language and manners of European countries. In
the reign of his successor this policy was continued, with the studied
omission of England.[73]
Having no Resident, we had to find means of keeping ourselves informed
of events in Mandalay. One of our correspondents was Mr. A. E.
Rawlings, the Postmaster, who for a moderate subsidy wrote periodical
news-letters to the Secretary. He sent much useful and interesting
matter. There was also another correspondent whose reports were
extraordinarily accurate and instructive, and from whose keen vision no
secret transaction was hidden.
It has always seemed to me that the proximate cause of the annexation
of Upper Burma was the patriotic and enlightened Minister known as
the Kinwun Mingyi. Some years before, this gentleman had travelled
in Europe as head of a commercial mission, and had been received
with great distinction. His progress was a triumph; insignia of
Continental orders, illuminated addresses of English manufacturing
towns, were showered upon him as if he had been Minister of the Great
Mogul. To us who realize the insignificance of the King of Burma as
a potentate, these proceedings savour of the ridiculous. During this
visit the Kinwun Mingyi obtained some superficial knowledge of European
politics and of the relations between the Great Powers. Many years
later, when there was no longer a British Resident at Mandalay, and
when the path seemed clear of obstacles, the Mingyi conceived the
ingenious plan of contracting political relations and making treaties
with several States, such as France, Germany, and Italy. The subtle
intention was to play off one against another, so that, while none
would have predominant influence, all would be interested in opposing
and thwarting the ambitious designs of Great Britain. There was some
statesmanship in the project, but not quite enough; and with the best
intentions the Mingyi compassed the downfall of the dynasty of which he
was a devoted servant. By the autumn of 1885 negotiations with France
had made good progress. A French Consul was appointed to Mandalay, and
plans for the foundation of a French bank were initiated. A treaty was
provisionally concluded, though never formally ratified. The ostensible
cause of the rupture with the Burmese Court was the imposition of
an enormous fine on the Bombay Burma Trading Corporation, a British
company carrying on extensive operations in Upper Burma forests.
Probably in any case the British Government would have intervened, on
account of the treatment received by the Corporation. But the ultimate
cause of intervention was the apprehension lest France or some other
European Power should establish a preponderant influence in Upper
Burma, and create a situation which would render our position in Lower
Burma intolerable.
When I got back to Rangoon, the preliminary correspondence with India
and Mandalay was starting. It was all desperately urgent and deadly
secret, and the Chief Commissioner and his Secretary were more than
fully occupied. The Burmese answer to our first representation was
deliberately curt and discourteous. Under the orders of the Government
of India an ultimatum was therefore sent to the King of Burma. He
was required to suspend the execution of the decree against the
Corporation, to receive at Mandalay an envoy from the Viceroy with
a view to the settlement of the matter in issue, and for the future
to permit the residence at the capital of an agent of the Indian
Government, who should be received and treated with the respect due
to the Government which he represented. It was further intimated that
the Burmese Government would be required to regulate its external
relations in accordance with advice of the Government of India, and to
afford facilities for opening up British trade with China.[74]
The ultimatum was despatched on the 22nd of October, 1885. It was taken
by Captain Cooper, of the Irrawaddy Flotilla Company, on the steamer
_Ashley Eden_, which went specially to Mandalay for the purpose. An
answer was required by the 10th of November. In default of receiving a
reply Captain Cooper was instructed to leave Mandalay on a fixed date.
The mission was of a hazardous nature. Captain Cooper discharged it
with intrepidity and skill. He remained with his steamer fires banked,
and he returned bearing the haughty and uncompromising answer of the
Burmese Government. As he passed down the river he ran the gauntlet
of the fire of forts on the bank. Such was the Burmese notion of the
courtesy due to envoys. The answer was received in Rangoon on the 9th
of November. Two days earlier the King of Burma issued a proclamation
calling on his subjects to rally round him to resist the unjust demands
of the British Government, and expressing his determination to efface
these heretic foreigners and conquer and annex their country.[75]
When the ultimatum was considered by the Burmese Court and Government,
there seems to have been a division of counsel. The two highest
officers of State were two Mingyis, the virtuous and temperate Kinwun,
the corrupt and blood-thirsty Taingda. The Queen, Sûpăya-lât, was
certainly present when the situation was discussed. The Kinwun advised
moderation and diplomacy; the Taingda was for blood and fury. The
Queen’s voice was for resistance. She had the unexampled impertinence
to tell the Kinwun Mingyi, a man of mature and reverend years, her
father’s trusted Councillor, that when she had beaten the English she
would dress him in a tamein[76] and send him to live among the women.
The counsels of unreason prevailed. The proclamation was issued, and
futile resistance was undertaken.
Meanwhile, in anticipation of an unfavourable reply to the ultimatum,
preparations for the advance on Mandalay had been rapidly made. The
speed with which the expedition was organized and set in motion was
almost incredible. The first orders for the mobilization of troops
were issued by Government of India on or about the 19th of October;
the expeditionary force crossed the frontier on the 14th of November,
1885. The force was of all arms, including some Madras Cavalry and
some mounted infantry. Except the detachment of the Rangoon Volunteer
Rifles, which patriotically volunteered for active service, all the
troops were sent from India. For the promptitude of the despatch from
Rangoon, the chief credit is due to Mr. Bernard himself, who placed
all the resources of his position and all his personal energy and
experience at the disposal of the military authorities. Every day saw
him on the river-bank supervising and urging on the preparations.
Much praise is due also to the Irrawaddy Flotilla Company, which
made every vessel of their fleet available and carried the whole
expedition. Of course, this was not all pure patriotism on the part
of the Company; but the service rendered by them was of inestimable
value, and contributed largely to the brilliant success of the
operations. The command of the force was entrusted to Major-General
Harry Prendergast, V.C.,[77] a most gallant and distinguished officer,
who had already served in Burma, and was thus specially qualified for
the appointment. Already, in the pursuit of intelligence, he had even
penetrated into Upper Burma in peaceful guise. In command of brigades
were Brigadier-General G. S. White, V.C.,[78] Brigadier-General Norman,
and Brigadier-General Forde; while the staff included Major W. P.
Symons,[79] then at the beginning of a glorious career. The troops were
specially enjoined to treat the people of the country with kindness
and consideration. One precept directed that in addressing a Burman
the soldier should say “Kinbya,” not “Hey, Johnny!” A book of Burmese
phrases, laboriously compiled by a gentleman unacquainted with the
language, was profusely distributed. It is pleasant to be able to
record, with perfect honesty, that never did army of occupation behave
with more restraint and moderation, or more readily win the esteem and
respect of a subject people.
The Chief Civil and Political Officer with the expedition was Colonel
E. B. Sladen[80] of the Burma Commission. Four young officers Mr.
R. Phayre, C.S.,[81] Mr. A. S. Fleming, C.S., Captain G. S. Eyre,
of the Commission, and Mr. G. G. Collins accompanied the force as
civil officers. Mr. R. C. Stevenson, also of the police, one of the
foremost Burmese scholars, was attached to General Prendergast as chief
interpreter.
On the 14th November the frontier was crossed, on the 17th Minhla,
on the 23rd Pagan, on the 25th Myingyan were successively occupied.
Except at Minhla, where the fort which still stands on the river-bank
was not taken without a brisk fight, scarcely any resistance was
encountered. And as the flotilla moved up the river, even in Mandalay
the determination to resist began to fail. Just before the expedition
reached Ava the Kinwun Mingyi arrived, and after some negotiation
arranged the unconditional surrender of the capital and of the Royal
Family. On the 26th and 27th November the forts at Ava and Sagaing
were given up, and the troops at Ava laid down their arms. On the
28th the flotilla moored off the town, and General Prendergast
occupied Mandalay. The city and the palace were surrounded, while
Colonel Sladen, with the cool courage which was his best distinction,
entered the palace alone, and remained there for a day and a night,
settling the details of the King’s surrender. Next day, in a little
summer-house in the palace garden, King Thebaw gave himself up to the
victorious General, and the dynasty of Alaungpăyá ruled no more. After
all, it was a mushroom growth, having held sway for little more than
130 years.[82] The King and his two Queens, with their mother and her
eldest daughter, were driven through the streets of Mandalay in little
bullock-drawn carriages, the only vehicles available. They were placed
on board the steamer _Thooreah_, and conveyed to Rangoon. The flimsy
little summer-house fell into decay, and no longer exists. The tablet
which marks its site, and commemorates the most striking event in its
history, will doubtless remain as long as the British flag flies over
Mandalay.
The first report of the King’s surrender reached Rangoon in a
non-official telegram. By luck or good management we were enabled to
telegraph the tidings simultaneously to the Secretary of State, and to
save his Lordship from the shock of receiving the first intimation of
the fall of Mandalay from his morning paper. Of course, the telegraph
line was interrupted. This message came from Tha-yet-my̆o, brought
thither by the King’s steamer.
As the junior officer in the Secretariat, I was told off to board the
_Thooreah_ on her arrival. I was thus the first officer in Rangoon to
see the ex-King and his Queens. King Thebaw was in appearance a Burman
of very ordinary type. He looked neither dissipated nor cruel; nor did
he show any emotion or feeling of his melancholy position. His somewhat
heavy features were unmistakably those of the House of Alaungpăyá.
Both he and his elder sister (who died not long ago) closely resembled
the familiar picture of Mindôn Min. Queen Sūpăyá-lāt’s features were
more finely marked than is usual with Burmese ladies. She bore no
appearance of special depravity, but she certainly looked a little
shrew. The legend of Sūpăyá-lāt is that she was a monster of cruelty
and wickedness, and that she was mainly responsible for all acts of
State during her husband’s reign. From all that I heard in Mandalay,
where I had many sources of information, for the most part unfriendly
to the ex-Queen, I believe that both her wickedness and her influence
have been much exaggerated. She seems to have been of a jealous
temper, and to have checked any inclination on the part of her husband
to follow the footsteps of Mindôn Min. Doubtless it went hard with any
maid who attracted the King’s attention. On one of the golden doors of
the palace used to be shown bloodstains, marks of a little hand, signs
of the tragic end of a Princess who had incurred the Queen’s wrath.
(I am aware of the learned explanation of these marks, but the legend
is far more interesting.) Beyond this there is no credible evidence
of her cruelty, nor is it well established that she ruled the State.
Clearly she wielded some influence; but apart from the story of her
speech to the Kinwun Mingyi, the most arrogant action imputed to her
was that she used to have her meals before the King. Of course, this
was very unusual and unseemly for a Burmese woman of any class. It
hardly shows that she was paramount in the direction of the kingdom.
The royal exiles were transferred to the R.I.M.S. _Clive_, and, after
remaining for a few days in Rangoon, were taken to Madras. They were
finally transferred to Ratnagiri in the Bombay Presidency, where
King Thebaw and Sūpăyá-lāt still live. The poor little second Queen,
of whom nothing, good or bad, has ever been heard, died last year.
An irresponsible journalist lately suggested that Ratnagiri was an
unsuitable place of abode for these fallen dignitaries. It is one of
the best places that could be chosen. They and their family have been
quite healthy. As they cannot be allowed to return to Burma, they are
likely to be as contented there as elsewhere. Two of the Ministers
and a few retainers were with difficulty persuaded to accompany their
fallen master. The Ministers speedily returned to Mandalay. So did most
of the retainers after one little Chin maid had given some trouble by
running up a tree and declining to come down, because Sūpăyá-lāt, whose
temper misfortune may have sharpened, had smacked her.
The rapidity with which the conquest of the Burmese King was effected
must always be a subject of astonishment. Many times in the previous
wars Burmese soldiers had offered stout resistance, fighting fiercely
behind stockades. That the martial spirit still survived was abundantly
shown afterwards in the years of desultory fighting described in Sir
Charles Crosthwaite’s classic history of the pacification of Burma.
The truth is, the central Government was rotten at the core, corrupt
and inefficient and singularly impecunious. The balance found in the
Treasury at Mandalay was about £5,000, not a very large sum to finance
a war. There was no organized Burmese army, with captains versed in the
art of war, capable of meeting in the field disciplined troops under
trained leaders. But the main cause of the downfall of the Burmese
kingdom, with hardly a blow struck in its defence, was no doubt the
speed with which preparations for the advance were made, and the skill,
swiftness, and resolution with which General Prendergast directed the
progress to Mandalay. If a little more time had been allowed to the
Burmese, the ascent would have been more arduous, though not less
effectual. The celerity with which the operations were carried out is
probably paralleled in history only by the advance of the Balkan armies
towards Constantinople.
While opposition to the main force was feeble and faint-hearted, at the
outset of hostilities reprisals were taken on Englishmen employed in
the forests or on the river. It was, indeed, only by the humanity or
prudence of some local officials that any of these isolated Englishmen
escaped. A Thandawzin[83] was sent to deal with Bombay-Burma men on
the Chindwin. Four of them were barbarously murdered. The murderer
was Thandawzin So Bôn, who disappeared immediately. I sought him
diligently, but in vain, for nearly twenty-five years. If he still
lives, this record of his name may yet bring to him the reward of his
crime. Four other forest men were saved by the intervention of the
Wun[84] of Mingin.
Upper Burma had long been the refuge of persons who had pressing
reasons for leaving Lower Burma; in fact, as one departmental Report
said, it was a “perfect Arcadia.” Not only thieves, robbers, dacoits,
and murderers, but the bailiff who had lost at Komi the proceeds of
Court sales, the Postmaster who was short in his collections, the clerk
who had stolen witnesses’ subsistence money, all found an asylum across
the border. Demands for extradition were made, but practically never
with any effect. The Wun of Mingin was among many who felt it necessary
to take measures for their security if, as seemed likely, Upper
Burma came under British rule. Long years ago, this astute man had
been Akunwun[85] of the rich district of Rangoon or Hanthawaddy. One
morning, having packed on elephants the contents of the Treasury, some
lakhs of rupees, he fled with his plunder across the frontier. There,
with his wicked prize, he was a man of importance, obtained office,
and in process of time was placed in charge of Mingin on the Chindwin
River. Partly moved by humanity, for he was as kindly a man as ever
scooped a Treasury, partly, I surmise, because he was shrewd enough
to foresee the downfall of the Burmese Government, he protected the
Bombay-Burma men who fell into his hands, saved them from ill-usage and
death, and made them over to a small British force which early visited
the Chindwin. The Wun’s humanity was suitably rewarded. His delinquency
was condoned and he became a My̆o-ôk. Though he was believed always
to be tainted with the corrupt habits of Upper Burma, he served us
moderately well. The fact that he had saved the lives of our countrymen
was never forgotten and would have covered many sins. Finally, he died
in his bed, up to the day of his death in receipt of a pension from
Government. I knew very well both him and his wife, who had accompanied
him in his flight from Rangoon. Naturally, we did not in plain words
discuss that incident. But reference to early days was sometimes
made, and the old lady admitted that the Wun had been frivolous and
light-hearted in his youth. When I knew him, he was grave and reverend.
This is not the only instance in which persons guilty of past offences
in Lower Burma purged their guilt by good service in troubled times and
were received back into Government employ. I found it convenient to
keep in mind their histories.
Another case of the cruel treatment of Europeans was the seizure
of a Flotilla steamer at Moda, between Mandalay and Bhamo, and the
imprisonment and ill-treatment of crew and officers. Daily was Captain
Redman led out as if to execution. He, too, escaped by some friendly
intervention, or the hesitation of his captors to proceed to the last
extremity. He was, however, very badly used. The two local officers
responsible for these barbarities were brought down to Mandalay, fined
and imprisoned, and publicly whipped by the Chief Commissioner’s order.