THE BATTLE OF MARTABAN.
1852.
The treaty of Yandaboo concluded the Burmese war of 1824. By its terms,
the safety of British commerce and British merchants in Burmah was
assured, and for a long period following the termination of the war
the terms of the treaty were rigidly adhered to. By degrees, however,
a spirit of resentment against the British began to spring up in the
only half-civilised country, and in 1851 such resentment found open
expression.
In the course of that year, a Mr. Sheppard, the master and owner of
a trading vessel of Madras, complained to the Indian Government that
he had been seized, ill treated, and imprisoned by the Governor of
Rangoon, upon a false charge of throwing a man overboard, that his
vessel had been detained, and over a thousand rupees extorted from
him; adding that this was one of many acts of injustice, oppression,
and tyranny suffered by British subjects in that port. Shortly after,
another master of a British ship made a similar complaint, alleging
that he had been subjected to extortions, as well as insult and
indignity, by the Governor, on an equally false charge of murdering one
of his crew. At the same time a memorial was sent from the merchants of
Rangoon to the Governor-General of India, in which they alleged that
they had, for a long time, suffered from the tyranny of the Burmese
authorities, that trade was seriously obstructed, and that neither
life nor property was safe, as the Governor had publicly stated to his
dependants that he had no more money to give them, and had granted
them his permission to get money as they could; that he had frequently
demanded money without any pretext, and tortured the parties asked
until his demands were complied with; and that, in short, affairs had
arrived at such a crisis that, unless protected, the British merchants
in Rangoon would be obliged to leave the country.
After careful consideration, the Governor-General came to the
conclusion that the treaty of Yandaboo had been unquestionably set
at nought, that gross injustice and oppression had been perpetrated,
and that the court of Ava should make due reparation. Accordingly,
Commodore Lambert, with H.M.S. Fox and two other steamers, was at
once despatched to Rangoon to enforce this demand of the Indian
Government, and to present a letter to the King of Ava setting forth
the Government’s grounds for the taking of such a step.
Arrived at Rangoon, Captain Tarleton, with other officers, landed
to present this letter for the king to the Governor of the port.
His reception was insulting in the extreme, and an account of the
proceedings having been forwarded to the Indian Government, a further
and more emphatic “note” was sent. On receipt of this second letter,
amendment was promised to the Indian authorities. “The Great English
War-Chiefs” were informed that strict inquiry would be made into
affairs, just treatment should be accorded the merchants, and that a
fresh Governor would be appointed.
This step was taken, but the incoming Governor “chastised with
scorpions,” instead of with the “whips” of his predecessor, and things
rapidly went from bad to worse. A climax was reached when Commodore
Lambert sent Captain Fishbourne of H.M.S. Hermes with a letter stating
the precise claims of the Indian Government. Captain Fishbourne was
informed that the Governor was asleep, which was not true, and that
they must wait in an open shed until he awoke and could receive them.
After remaining for some little time, they returned to the ship without
having been admitted to the Governor’s presence.
Commodore Lambert’s reply to this latest insult was short and sharp. He
seized a vessel belonging to the King of Ava, declared the river mouth
to be in a state of blockade, and invited all persons in Rangoon who
claimed British protection to come aboard his ship. Four days later, on
the 10th January, 1852, a brisk cannonade was opened on the Fox from
a stockade on the adjacent river bank. A few rounds from the British
vessel sufficed to silence the battery, and immediately afterwards the
Fox returned to Calcutta to report the state of affairs.
The next move in the Burmese situation took the form of a lengthy and
formal remonstrance to the King of Ava, once more demanding reparation.
Regret was to be expressed for former discourtesies; ten lacs of rupees
were demanded in compensation; a respectful reception was solicited for
the incoming representative of the British Government; and finally,
the removal of the obnoxious were demanded as terms by which alone
peace could be maintained.
“If without further delay, negotiation, or correspondence, these
conditions shall be consented to, and shall be fulfilled by the 1st
April next, hostile operations shall be stayed.” Failing this, war
would be declared. “The guilt and consequences of such war will rest
upon the head of the ruler of Ava.”
In answer to this ultimatum, no concession was made by the Burmese, and
a hostile expedition was at once prepared.
The armament was to consist of troops from the Presidencies of Bengal
and Madras, with the 18th Royal Irish, 35th Royal Sussex, the 51st
Light Infantry, and the Staffordshire regiment. The whole force, some
4400 of all ranks, was placed under the command of Major-General
Godwin, a veteran officer who was engaged in the first Burmese war.
The conditions of peace were specified at the outset. Fifteen lacs of
rupees were demanded for expenses, with an additional three lacs for
every month after the 1st May. Until these payments were made, the
British troops were to remain in possession of such places as they
might capture.
General Godwin set sail with his forces on the 28th March, and reached
Rangoon on the 2nd April, where he found Rear-Admiral Austin, C.B., the
naval commander-in-chief, who had come from Penang in H.M.S. Rattler.
Martaban, which had a river line of defences about 800 yards in length,
was at once selected as the first objective of attack.
Arrangements were made for the attack on daybreak of the 5th April. The
Admiral made every disposition possible, “in waters full of shoals and
violent currents,” for bombarding the position with his five steamers,
and to cover the landing of the troops. “It was the admiration of
everyone,” runs General Godwin’s official narrative, “to witness the
noble manner in which the Rattler worked her way within 200 yards
of the wall and close to the pagoda, doing tremendous execution. I
changed from the Rattler at six o’clock, to superintend the landing of
the troops, and went on board a smaller vessel, the Proserpine, with
my staff. At half-past six the steamer opened fire, and at seven the
troops were in the boats, and landed, by the indefatigable exertions of
Commander Brooking, under a smart fire of musketry and guns. Soon was
the storming party under the walls and over them, with less loss than
I thought possible. Lieutenant-Colonel Reignolds immediately ascended
to the pagodas on the height, and took possession of them after some
skirmishing with the enemy. At eight a.m. Martaban was won, and,
considering the enemy’s position and numbers, which report gives at
5000 men, we have got it very cheaply.”
Thus tersely is the account of the first engagement of the war
rendered. By the 9th, the expedition lay off Rangoon, the principal
port on the eastern branch of the Irrawaddy. Occasional patches of
forest and rice flats surround the Burmese capital from the midst of
whose wooden houses rose in those days the Great Pagoda, a religious
edifice of both literal and figurative high-standing. Three hundred
and fifty feet has been given as the height of this edifice, and not
only was it surrounded by stockades and cannon, but, if reports were
true, its interior was loaded with vast treasure, which would make its
capture a profitable as well as honourable enterprise.
Not until Wednesday, the 14th April, were preparations fully completed
for the assault on the Great Pagoda, but the two preceding days were
spent in several severe skirmishes with the enemy. On the 12th, a
party landed from the 51st Light Infantry, Royal Irish, and Bengal
Infantry met with stout opposition from the Burmese, who had entrenched
themselves behind a stockade. After a heavy artillery fire, the place
was carried by assault, but with heavy loss to our forces. The heat was
terrific. By 11 a.m. the sun assumed such power that Major Oakes was
killed by sunstroke while working his battery, Major Griffith died from
the same cause in the act of carrying an order, and Colonel Foord was
compelled to leave the field of action.
The next day was spent in further landing operations, and on the
morning of the 14th the troops moved forward to the grand assault.
About three-quarters of a mile separated the Great Pagoda from the
south entrance of Rangoon, whence our troops were advancing. The old
road from the river to the Pagoda came up from the south gate, and
it was apparently by this road the Burmese decided that the British
assault would come. Here they had placed the enormous number of 100
pieces of cannon and a garrison of at least 10,000 men; but, perceiving
their extensive dispositions, the British commander decided on another
plan of attack.
The troops were under arms at 5 a.m., “all in as fine a temper as ever
men were.” The route lay to the north-west through thick jungle. Four
light guns, 9-pounders, their flanks protected by two companies of the
80th regiment, the rest of the wing of that corps following with two
more guns; the 18th Royal Irish, and the 40th Bengal Native Infantry
formed the advance. The 51st Light Infantry and the Madras troops
formed the reserve.
After a mile’s march, the troops came in full view of the Pagoda,
which immediately opened fire. Very soon, however, under a galling
fire from two guns served by Major Montgomery of the Madras Artillery,
the enemy’s flank was turned, and a strong position taken up by our
artillery on the east side of the Pagoda. Some time was however spent
in bringing up the guns, an operation in which the naval brigade from
the Fox rendered invaluable assistance, and meantime the enemy’s fire
wrought terrible havoc in our ranks. Sunstroke, as formerly, was also
severely depleting the British forces.
So hot, indeed, became the Burmese fire, that the General now
determined on an immediate assault. Captain Laller, the interpreter,
assured the British commander that he could effectively lead a storming
party through the eastern gate, and this bold and enterprising plan was
at once adopted.
The storming party was formed of the wing of the 80th regiment, under
Major Lockhart; two companies of the Royal Irish, under Lieutenant
Hewitt; and two companies of the 40th Bengal Native Infantry, under
Lieutenant White--Lieutenant-Colonel Coote being in charge of the
entire party.
Under a heavy fire from cannon and musket, and led forward by Captain
Laller, sword in hand, the storming party swept forward. The eight
hundred yards which separated our position from the walls of the Pagoda
was crossed in a twinkling, and, with a loud cheer, the eastern gate of
the temple was burst in, and, with ball and bayonet, the Burmese were
driven from their entrenched position.
The British loss was heavy. Lieutenant Doran, of the Royal Irish, fell
mortally wounded, four bullets being found in his body; Colonel Coote
himself was struck, and many were the dead and dying who strewed the
steep steps of the Pagoda.
“When the storming party reached the steps,” says General Godwin, “a
tremendous rush was made to the upper terrace, and deafening cheers
told that the Pagoda no longer belonged to the Burmese.”
The enemy ran in confusion from the southern and western gates, where
they were met by the fire from the steamers. Among the first to flee
was the Governor, who, with his bodyguard in tall gilt hats, beat a
hasty and ignominious retreat.
Of seventeen killed on the British side, three were officers, two
others dying of sunstroke. The wounded numbered 132. Casualties in the
fleet were 17 in all. The number of Burmese dead was never accurately
ascertained, but it was considerable. Ninety cannon and nearly as many
wall pieces were captured.
“All the country round has fallen with the Pagoda,” ran the General’s
report.
On the 19th May the town of Bassan, on the river of that name, was
captured by the British troops after a sharp struggle. After leaving a
small garrison in the place, General Godwin returned to Rangoon there
to organise arrangements for his main advance.