UP THE IRRAWADDY.--MANDALAY.--AUDIENCE WITH THE KING OF BURMAH.
From Prome to Thayetmyo the voyage was without any incident of
importance. Our friends had made the acquaintance of two or three
English officers who were on their way to the military post at
Thayetmyo, and just before reaching the landing the three Americans were
invited to visit the barracks or cantonment. The invitation was accepted
without hesitation.
[Illustration: BARRACKS ON THE FRONTIER.]
The cantonment is on the frontier, between the native Burmah, or Ava,
and the British possessions, or rather it is on British soil very close
to the line. On the other side there is a station for Burmese troops,
but for more than half the time it is unoccupied, and when troops are
stationed there they have no intercourse whatever with the English,
through fear of losing their heads. The British barracks consist of
substantial wooden buildings, and there are shaded walks and drives all
around them, and numerous little gardens which are maintained by the
soldiers.
There was nothing of any special interest in Thayetmyo, as it is only a
small village, and derives its importance from being a frontier post;
consequently the boys were quite ready to return to the steamer, which
was announced to start down the river early in the morning, or as soon
as it had landed the cargo it brought up and taken in a new one. The
work of discharging and receiving cargo was kept up during the night,
and a little after daybreak the strangers were travelling once more in
the direction of Rangoon.
They were consoled for their failure to go to Mandalay by making the
acquaintance of a fellow-passenger who told them a great deal about the
capital of Ava and its king, or rather about its former ruler, King
Mounglon, as he had not been there since the throne fell to Theebaw.
This gentleman, Captain Blakeley, had lived at Mandalay in the official
service of the British Government, and was on fairly pleasant relations
with Mounglon; he went frequently into the royal presence, and had been
consulted at various times on matters of importance to the Burmese
Government.
While he was telling the Americans about the Burmese court and other
things of interest, Frank and Fred made sure of their memories by taking
notes of the conversation: in the latter part of the voyage they wrote
out in full what they had briefly set down, and then read the matter
over to their polite instructor. He complimented them on the accuracy of
their report, and said he could not have done better than they in
putting his own words on paper.
Here is the report, which is supposed to be in the words of Captain
Blakeley:[6]
[6] Abridged from "The Land of the White Elephant," by Frank Vincent,
Jr., published by Harper & Brothers.
[Illustration: VIEW OF MANDALAY, CAPITAL OF THE KINGDOM OF AVA, OR
BURMAH.]
"You must know, to begin with, that the Kingdom of Ava, or Burmah,
changes its capital very often. Five hundred years ago the city of Ava
was made the capital, and it remained so for nearly three centuries.
Monchobo was the capital from 1740 to 1782, and then the seat of
government was taken to Amarapoora, where it remained till 1819, when it
went back to Ava. Twenty years later Ava was destroyed by an earthquake,
when the court moved to Monchobo, later to Amarapoora, again to Ava, and
last (in 1857) to Mandalay. These cities are only a few miles from each
other, and whenever the capital is changed the inhabitants of the old
city are mostly taken along to start the new one. In 1855 the site where
Mandalay stands was a series of rice-fields; now a city of 100,000
inhabitants covers the ground, and is enclosed by substantial walls of
brick and mud.
[Illustration: BOAT DRAWN BY A BULLOCK.]
"You can't see much of Mandalay as you approach it by steamer, as it
lies on a level plain, and the houses near the river are not the best
that the city contains. You will be reminded of Rangoon, or Bangkok, as
the spires of the temples and pagodas are thickly surrounded by foliage,
and it is only when you have climbed to the top of a temple, and looked
down from that elevation, that you begin to have an idea of the extent
of the city. In the rainy season a great part of the plain around
Mandalay is flooded, and then the natives go about in canoes and on
rafts. Sometimes you see them in boats drawn by bullocks or buffaloes;
the unhappy animals are forced to wade where the water is a foot or two
in depth, and where there is a scarcity of harness they drag the craft
behind them by means of ropes tied to their tails.
"In the city itself most of the houses are on posts or piles, to avoid
the effects of the inundations; the best of them are two stories high
and of brick or framed timber; but there is a large number of only one
story, and this is invariably the case with the smaller dwellings of the
natives, which are constructed of bamboo. These houses burn easily, and
sometimes they have fires that cause immense destruction, and devastate
acres and acres of ground. The only consolation after such a fire is
that the houses are not costly, and the sufferers can easily be lodged
again.
"The population of Mandalay is principally Burmese, as might be
expected; but there are great numbers of Chinese living there, and most
of the commerce of the place is in their hands. Then there are many
Malays, and people from other parts of Asia; as for the Europeans, there
are not more than twenty or thirty, and they include a few men engaged
in trade, two or three missionaries, and the English resident and his
official assistants. At present there is not a single European in
Mandalay, as you are already aware, on account of the danger of war with
King Theebaw.
"The city and its suburbs cover several miles of ground, but the city
itself is a mile square, with high walls enclosing the four sides, and
each wall pierced with three gates. Outside the wall there is a deep
ditch that is kept constantly filled with water, and evidently it is the
intention of the king not to be taken by surprise by having his ditch
empty. The soldiers of the king are stationed at all these gates to
preserve order, and see that no hostile force enters the sacred
precincts, but they would be a poor match for European troops. Their
uniform is a combination of the English and Burmese dress; they are
almost always barefooted, and their guns are a mixed lot from all parts
of the world, and generally of very old pattern. Some of them carry
heavy swords that resemble butchers' cleavers, and others are armed with
swords and lances.
"The king has a great many titles, and some of them have a comical sound
in Western ears. Here is a fair sample of them:
"His Golden-footed Majesty, Ruler of the Sea and Land, Lord of the
Celestial Elephant and Master of many White Elephants, Owner of the
Shekyah, or Indra's Weapon, Lord of the Earth and Air, Lord of the Power
of Life and Death, and Great Chief of Righteousness.
"It is no wonder that he considers himself of great importance when he
has all these titles applied to him, and many more besides. Some of them
sound like burlesque, particularly the one that calls him ruler of the
sea and land; he has no seaport of any kind whatever, and all his
commerce with foreign countries must descend the Irrawaddy through
British territory, or be carried overland to China.
"The government is a despotism of the most emphatic sort; the king has
the power of life and death over all his subjects, and may order any one
beheaded without the slightest reason, and at a moment's notice. It is
said that in old times, whenever the court ceremonies were going on, if
any person made the least mistake, even so much as taking a short step
when he should have taken a long one, or _vice versa_, the king
commanded him to be beheaded, and he was taken outside the building and
decapitated instantly. They are not so bad as that in these latter days,
though King Theebaw seems to be coming quite near the ancient mark.
"The form of government is about the worst that could be imagined; the
king takes the revenue, or so much of it as reaches him, and spends it
in any way he pleases, and when his pocket gets empty he makes a fresh
collection. Some of the districts up the river are subject to frequent
levies; the inhabitants have several times refused to pay, but it seems
that they are dependent upon the lower country for their supply of salt,
and whenever their taxes do not come promptly, the king prohibits the
exportation of salt to them. This is sure to bring them to terms; but it
is now rumored that they have found a mountain of salt there, and if so,
they will be likely to declare themselves independent.
"My first interview with the king was a more ceremonious affair than
subsequent ones, and there were many novel features connected with it.
The audience was appointed for ten o'clock in the forenoon, and I was
there promptly with my introducer; when we got to the palace we were
told that we must wait till eleven o'clock, as his majesty was just then
occupied with the royal astrologer, who had made some important
discoveries in the positions of the stars. There was no help for it, and
we waited; but in the mean time we had interviews with some of the
ministers, and other persons attached to the court, so that the period
of waiting was not altogether lost.
"Most of the ministers do not receive any salaries, but are supported by
bribes and extortions. They try all cases that are appealed to them, and
take ten per cent. of the amount involved as their compensation; it
often happens that they take the whole money, and the winner of the case
is told that he must be satisfied with the honor of defeating his
adversary. The king pays his troops and officers in goods that he buys
of the merchants, and if they wish to convert them into cash, they must
sell at half price, or even less. In fact, the whole government is a
system of bribery and corruption, and the wonder is that it has kept up
so long.
[Illustration: THE ROYAL PALACE AT MANDALAY.]
"The king rarely goes out of his palace, as he is constantly fearful
that some ambitious relative will endeavor to supplant him if he leaves
home even for a single hour. The royal palace covers about seventy acres
of ground, and is surrounded by two walls, the inner wall being thirty
feet from the outer one. The palace is a gaudy sort of building, with a
great deal of carved woodwork around the eaves of its many roofs and
stories, and having poles for bells and flags at every corner and angle.
It looks better at a little distance than when close at hand, as it is
not always kept in good repair; and since the king stays inside the most
of the time, he can hardly be expected to know enough about the roofs
and outer walls to give the proper orders concerning them. The gates of
the palace are very strong, and made of beams of teak fastened together
with iron bolts. They could not offer much resistance to artillery, or
even to a keg of powder exploded against them, but could hold out for
some time against anything that an ordinary force of Burmese could bring
forward.
"Everybody who goes to be presented to the king must carry a gift of
some kind, as this is the custom of the country. I was aware of the
custom, and so came provided with a handsome travelling-clock, by one of
the best makers in Paris; the prime-minister looked it over carefully to
see that no dangerous explosive was contained in the clock, and then
said it was quite appropriate to the occasion. When the time came for
the audience, the minister led the way to a stone staircase, and
motioned for us to leave our shoes, which we did. Then we ascended the
staircase, and were admitted to the reception-room, and shown to our
places. A few paintings adorned the walls, and at one end there was a
green curtain with an opening about ten feet square; through this
opening we could see a stage about a yard in height, and there were
steps leading from the floor of the room to the stage. At the top of
these steps there was a velvet cushion, on which a handsome opera-glass
was lying, and I readily guessed that this was the station of the king
during the audience. The party for the audience consisted of eight or
ten persons; two or three princes of the royal family were on the right,
facing the cushion; then came the prime-minister, then myself, and next
to me my introducer; then two missionaries and a couple of merchants, if
I remember correctly. Behind us were some Burmese officials, who had
been recently appointed, and had come to thank the king, and make him
the customary presents in token of their recognition.
[Illustration: COPY OF AN OLD BURMESE PAINTING.]
"In front of each person there was a little stool or bench, which held
the present he had brought; the master of ceremonies arranged us and our
presents in the proper order, and we were specially cautioned to keep
our feet behind us, as it is very improper to allow a royal personage to
see the soles of your feet under any circumstance. The Europeans were
seated on the floor in a half-kneeling attitude, while all the natives
were prostrate, with their faces within an inch of the floor, and their
feet as far aft as it was possible to get them. They kept their eyes
turned downward, and I very much doubt if any of them saw enough of the
king to say how he looked, and what he did.
"The king--remember, I am speaking of Mounglon and not of the present
ruler, Theebaw--came forward at the sound of a couple of blows on a
drum, and laid himself down against the cushion with one side of his
body toward the audience. Then he picked up the opera-glasses and
deliberately surveyed the entire party one after another, though we were
not more than twenty feet away from him. I suspect that the glasses were
something new, and he was desirous of using them as much as possible,
since he did not appear to be near-sighted. When he had finished his
inspection he waved the glass to indicate that the performance might go
on, and on it went. The king's secretary read the names and occupations
of the various persons to be presented, together with a list of the
presents they had brought.
"Then the business of each person was stated; those who had petitions to
present handed them forward, and they were referred to the proper
minister; newly-appointed officers, who had brought baskets of fruit,
were very quickly disposed of, and then the king talked with me, through
an interpreter, concerning England and its customs. He hoped I would
enjoy my stay in Mandalay, and said he had found the English very
pleasant people, and most agreeable neighbors. The last remark was more
polite than truthful, as he could hardly be expected to regard with
favor the foreigners who have possessed themselves of two-thirds of
ancient Burmah, and may fairly be suspected of wanting to capture the
rest.
"The audience lasted about half an hour, and was brought to an end by
the king suddenly rising and going out of the room. One of the queens
had been standing behind the screen, and fanning his majesty with a
long-handled fan made of peacock's feathers. As soon as her lord and
master walked away, she satisfied her curiosity by seeing what kind of
beings the strangers were. She came to the opening in the screen, and as
she stood there we had a full and fair view of her. Perhaps it was due
to the fact that she was very pretty that she thus allowed us to see
her, but of this I cannot be at all certain. At any rate she was
exceedingly handsome, and I was told that the other three queens were as
good-looking as herself. The king has something more than a hundred
wives, but only four of them hold the rank of queens.
"We rose as soon as the audience was ended, and went down the steps
where we had left our shoes. When we were all re-shod, I went with my
introducer to see the famous white elephant, which was standing in a
stable not far away. He was not particularly white--in fact, his name
was the whitest part of him. His ears were slightly spotted, and so were
the front and top of his head, while the rest of him was about the
complexion of the ordinary elephants. He had a gorgeous lodging all to
himself, but he was said to be of a bad temper, and, in spite of his
noble character, he was chained to a post as any ordinary beast might
be. I fancy he would have made things very lively if he had been
divested of his chains and allowed to walk around freely.
"Burmah shares with Siam the honor of being one of the lands of the
white elephant, and some of the wars between the two countries have
grown out of disputes relative to the possession of these coveted
beasts. They are held in great esteem, partly on account of their being
the habitations of Buddha in his numerous transmigrations, and partly
because their possession is held to be synonymous with good-luck both in
peace and war. When a white elephant dies he is buried with royal
honors, and the whole nation goes into mourning.[7]
[7] For a full account of the white elephant, and the reverence he
receives, see Part II. of "The Boy Travellers in the Far East," Chapter
XVIII.
[Illustration: MOUNTAIN GORGE ON THE UPPER PART OF THE RIVER.]
"So much for Mandalay and the King of Burmah. It is a pity you cannot go
up to the city, and also to Bhamo, three hundred miles farther, where
steamboats can run nearly all the year. Between Mandalay and Bhamo the
scenery is more interesting than on the lower part of the Irrawaddy; in
many places the mountains come close down to the river, and just before
you reach Bhamo there is a narrow gorge where the river flows for a
dozen miles or more between steep mountains several hundred feet high.
Some of the cliffs are nearly perpendicular, and the river is penned in
so closely that the current is very swift; one mountain, nearly a
thousand feet high, is called 'Monkey Castle,' on account of the great
numbers of monkeys that are frequently seen around it, and there is
another where thousands of screeching parrots make the air resound with
their unmelodious calls.
"On an island some distance above Mandalay there is a Buddhist
monastery, where the monks keep some large fish in a tank, and have made
them so tame that they come when called to be fed, and will allow their
keepers to stroke their backs. They belong to the dog-fish family, and
their mouths are capacious enough to take in anything that their
stomachs will hold.
"Bhamo used to be an important place of trade, as it is quite near the
borders of Yunnan, the frontier province of China. For the last fifteen
or twenty years there has been a rebellion in this part of China, and
the trade has greatly diminished; the Chinese Government does not appear
able to suppress the rebellion, and as long as it lasts there will be
very little trade with Bhamo. The importations from China consist of
tea, silks, cotton cloths, and earthen-ware, and the goods for which
these articles are exchanged are mostly of European manufacture; and,
by-the-way, let me say that the chief use the Burmese make of tea is to
form a salad of it, and not to drink it in a decoction as most other
nations do."
This was the end of the conversation about the part of Burmah that our
friends were unable to visit. By the time the account had been written
out, and received a few verbal corrections, the tower of the Shoay
Dagon, or Golden Pagoda of Rangoon, was in sight, and the voyage up and
down the Irrawaddy was fast drawing to a close.