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1874-1875. BURMAH
Ordered to
India—Bombay—Malabar coast—Madras—Intended expeditions—Ran. goon—Shoay
Dagon—Delhi Royal family—A coming race—Up the Irawaddy - Donabew—Hansadah—Akouk.tong—Prome—Thyet
Myo—History—Petroleum wells-Great forest—Our progress—Mengee Sekan—Night
shelters - Wandering Karens—Tonghoo--" Complication" with the King—The
Sitang River— Boats and crews—Shoay Gheen—Sitang town—Its associations—Kadouk----Kyatsoo
creek—Back to Rangoon--Comments.
SUDDENLY, and without
note of warning, the contents of one of those long blue War Office
envelopes informed me that in consequence of a death vacancy in India, I
was to proceed without delay to Madras. The immediate result was a good
deal of inconvenience and expense, arrangements having been made for a
somewhat longer stay in camp than under the circumstances was now
possible.
Leaving Portsmonth by the
Indian troopship Euphrates early in September, in due time, and without
adventure, we' landed at Bombay. Arrived at the capital city of the
Western Presidency, the hospitality of one of India's merchant princes
was extended to us, a letter of introduction3 having preceded us. it so
happened that an unusually heavy rainstorm had passed over that part of
India a few days previous, causing complete destruction of railways,
besides much damage in other respects. Our departure was accordingly
delayed several days, it being necessary that we should proceed by
steamer towards our destination. Meanwhile, however, the kind civility
of our host was unrelaxed; short trips were organized by him for our
pleasure—one to the famous Caves of Elephanta on the island of Gharipuri,
the sculptures in which represent nearly, if not all, the mythology of
Hindooism.
The first month of the
"cold" season was well advanced, the cold being rather in name than
reality. Otherwise our sea trip along the coast of Malabar was pleasant
enough; the bold scenery of the western ghats in some places striking,
in others grand; the cities, towns, and natural harbours, at several of
which our ship made a brief stay to land and take on board goods and
passengers, became so many objects of interest to us and a few others,
who, like ourselves, had been also forced to adopt this mode of
travelling.
Arrived off Beypore, we
disembarked; thence took train, and so in due time reached Madras. The
formality of reporting arrival to the authorities concerned once got
over, duty was entered upon, our residence temporarily taken up in one
of the large but otherwise comfortless hotels with which the place was
provided, all such establishments being the property of, and managed by,
natives.
Rumours circulated that a
military expedition was likely to proceed via Burmah towards Yunnan, to
co-operate with a corresponding force to be dispatched thither by the
Yangtse kiang, with a view to inflict punishment on those by whom Mr.
Margery had recently been murdered in that province. As a preliminary
measure, the Commander-inChief, Sir Frederick Haines, determined to make
a tour through what was then British Burmah, to satisfy himself in
regard to the capabilities of the country to meet requirements of an
army, including food, transport, supplies, and accommodation.
Together with other
members of the staff with whom special details relating to the expected
expedition would rest, His Excellency and party embarked; the pier on
the occasion being crowded with his numerous friends, a guard of honour,
in accordance with his rank and position, also drawn up. The Oriental
quickly steamed away; in due time touched at Coconada and Vizagapatam
respectively, then away across the Bay of Bengal, landing us safely at
Rangoon on the seventh day from that on which we had gone on board.
Hospitable friends awaited our landing, and by the kindness of
Surgeon-General and Mrs. Kendall I was made comfortable as their guest.
Various objects and
places of interest in and around this modern but prosperous city were
visited and examined, so soon as relaxation from official duties
permitted us to do so; but it is not intended in these notes to give
more than a very brief record of experiences in these respects. The
first to claim attention was the famous Golden Temple, the Shoay Dagon,
the most important Buddhistic memorial in Burmah, originally erected,
according to legend, as a monument over eight hairs from the head of the
Sage. In the course of our wanderings among the many smaller temples by
which the dagon proper is surrounded, we met at intervals female
devotees,—nuns, in fact, who had given themselves up to the service of
the temple, their object in doing so, according to our informant, that
in the next transmigration they might be born men!
In the course of the
day's excursion we came upon a very unroyallooking "palace," now the
residence of the Delhi Begum, and then upon an equally unroyal-looking
personage, described as the remaining prince, his brothers having been
shot by Hodson in 1857. The residence of other political prisoners were
pointed out to us, including the house in which the deposed "Grand
Mogul" of Delhi died.'
The extent to which the
Chinese element monopolized various kinds of business and industry was
remarkable; it was no less evident that the best portion of the town was
theirs. In course of our rounds we met with several examples of what may
in a sense be looked upon as a new race; namely, fruits of unions
between Chinese men and Burmese women. Those with whom we met were young
women, comely in appearance; their costumes a happy mixture of styles of
the nationalities personified in themselves. It is probable that the
males adopted the costume pertaining to one or other nationality, and so
were undistinguishable from these.
Our journey upwards by
steamer on the Irawaddy was pleasant, and in some respects interesting.
The early portion was through a succession of narrow creeks before
getting into the main stream, somewhat after the manner of the
Soonderbunds, but on a small scale as compared to them. As we advanced,
a rich, well-cultivated country opened up on either side of us. The
fresh cool air on deck made thick clothing desirable. On either side
well-to-do villages rose at short intervals as if out of the river,
while on it were thickly dotted boats of various sizes transporting
goods of many kinds. Rafts of timber, consisting of several portions
ingeniously united, and well steered, were met with winding, as it were
in folds, along the current. Fields of rice and gardens of banana gave
place to patches of forest, separated by tracts covered by tall reed
grass; then dense bamboo jungle, while from some of the riverside
villages odours wafted off which told that in them various delicacies
from fish, such as Burmans love, but other people abominate, were in
course of preparation. Such a place was Pantanau, at which we spent a
night.
Resuming our journey, the
somewhat large towns of Yandoon and Donabew were passed in quick
succession, the latter associated with the history of the first Burmese
War, 1824-26. There, one of the most severely contested battles of that
war took place; the Burmese leader, Bundoola, was killed. At the same
place in the war of 1852 severe fighting took place, heavy losses being
inflicted upon our forces by the native troops under command of Myot
Zoon.
In due time we are off
Hansadah, also associated with the wars of 1825 and 1852; the name of
the place itself—namely, Hansa—anser, goose—being derived from Turanian
mythology. At a little distance from that place a halt was made to
replenish the stock of firewood; the time so spent enabling us to take a
short excursion in the near vicinity. Animal life in great profusion
existed everywhere; cattle in excellent keeping, for the Burmese are
extremely kind to them; poultry of all sorts in abundance; sparrows in
myriads, and if possible more bold than are their kind in our own
country; water birds in great numbers; land birds equally so are
everywhere, nor are they as yet slaughtered in the name of "sport," as
doubtless they will be when British guns become more numerous here than
luckily for the wild creatures, they are at present.
On either side the
country changes gradually in appearance; at first an uninterrupted
level, then undulating, the inequalities greater and greater as we
proceed. Now the dim outline of the Arracan Yoma range looms in the
distance; we reach the high bold promontory of Akouk-tong, round the
base of which the Irawaddy rushes violently. On its river-face several
rude carvings represent Buddha; on its summit and landward declivity
stand pagodas of various sizes, the whole connected with each other by
winding pathways. During the war of 1852 the Burmese erected a powerful
battery upon the summit of that promontory, for the capture of which a
party, under command of Captain Gardener, was landed from the
Enterprise. Unhappily it fell into an ambuscade, its commander beheaded,
his head carried away as a trophy of victory. More and more distinctly
the hills of Prome came into view; forests of teak, interspersed with
patches of custard-apple trees, were seen clothing their sides, tracts
of underwood everywhere. Now we obtain glimpses of a well-made military
road, to be used if need be by troops from Akayab to this place.
Prome is a city or town
of considerable importance; its chief products, lac, petroleum, silk,
and lacquer. Occupying an elevated site is "The Holy Hair Pagoda,"
smaller in dimensions than its counterpart the Shoay Dagon at Rangoon;
like it, approached by an extensive flight of steps, on either side of
which is a long series of mythological figures. A variety of bells,
large and small, swung from stands, at short intervals among the
buildings connected with the temple proper. These bells, when struck by
a mallet of deer's horn, suspended from their stands for the purpose,
emit a sound of surprising sweetness. In the second Burmese War, namely
that of 1852, Prome was taken possession of by our troops on October 11.
Thyet Myo is reached
after a few such mishaps as are incidental to travel on the Irawaddy;
among them breaks-down of machinery, leaking of steam boilers, running
"fast" upon sand-banks, getting doubled up in the coils of rafts, and so
on. As on the occasion of our departure from Madras, so on disembarking
here, a guard of honour, with regimental band and colour, salutes the
chief; hospitable friends 1 invite us to their houses; our party is
comfortably and well provided for.
Thyet Myo, otherwise
"Mango city," has a history which dates back to A.D. 250. In 1854
cantonments for British troops were erected near to it, on a site so
situated as to command the passage of the Irawaddy. In 1857 the river
deserted its old bed, making for itself a new one at least a mile and a
half distant, thus destroying the purpose originally in view.
A tedious ride through
thorny jungle, then along what was intended to become a main line of
road to Mendoon, took us to a series of petroleum wells at Pendouk-ben.
Regarding them great expectations were entertained, and energetic
endeavours were in progress accordingly; but so far, their produce was
limited to the oozing in small quantities of "oil" from the sides of
wells in course of formation in the schistoze rock. Subsequently, that
industry, there and elsewhere in the country, has attained great
importance.
Official duties over at
Thyet Myo, our journey was resumed, all arrangements made beforehand for
an expected interesting if somewhat arduous progress through the
extensive forest that occupies the tract of territory between the rivers
Irawaddy and Sitang, including what is called "the great Yotna range" of
mountains, or more properly speaking, hills. Our first move was to cross
the first-named river and encamp on its further bank. Next morning, we
four began our real trip, all mounted, the large body of "followers" of
all sorts composing our escort making their way on foot.
Our progress during the
next four days was along "roads" the roughness and other difficulties of
which rapidly increased as we went on; villages and patches of
cultivation became smaller and less frequent; the people showed
themselves curious to see the kalzs, or white foreigners, their own
state of raggedness and dirt offensive to look upon.
We had reached the
densest part of the forest, at a point whence our further progress was
to he by elephants, a track being made in the jungle by a number of men
sent before us for that purpose. We reached a stockaded village, such a
defence in this secluded spot being very necessary against marauders.
The forest resounds with the voices of birds, from the resplendent
plumage of some of which the sunlight is reflected in flashes. Later on
all becomes silence, save from the voices of our own party, and so we
reach, as afternoon advances, the halting place of Mengee Sekan.
Hitherto we have taken
advantage for accommodation overnight of such buildings as we found, in
the shape chiefly of deserted Buddhist monasteries, in various stages of
decay. It became necessary to extemporize a hut or bower in which to
pass the night. Such a place was quickly prepared for us by natives
attached to our party, who, by means of their deihs - half-knife,
half-sword - cut down branches of bamboos and trees; these they arranged
and secured by ropes made of bark and creepers: thus they made quarters
in which we were by no means uncomfortable.
Our elephant steeds carry
us onwards, along the half-dried bed of what in the rainy season is a
mountain torrent, confined on either side by precipitous cliffs, our
progress at times interrupted by deep pools, at others by boulders
singly or in masses in the river bed; these obstacles having to be
circumvented as best was practicable, but always causing much delay and
inconvenience. Coming upon a pathway, evidently used by wandering Karens,
and made passable for us by our dah-men already mentioned, our elephants
have to scramble as best they can upwards along the steep face of a
mountain spur of the Yoma range. We gain the summit, and from it obtain
a wide and extensive view of rich dense forest stretching far away,
around, below the level of the point from which we took our survey. We
pass the watershed that divides the tributaries to the Irawaddy and
Sitang. Our descent is rough and precipitous; we arrive at the
Krat-Moung creek, and for some miles travel eastward along its bed; the
forest on either side dense as before, the brushwood and lower
vegetation consisting chiefly of ferns and stemless palms. After a day
of somewhat arduous toil we reach an open space, and there a bower being
quickly prepared for us we rest for the night.
Our journey resumed, the
roadway we take is once again the bed of a mountain stream, the banks
high and steep; vegetation still dense, huge creepers stretching from
branch to branch, masses of parasitical plants hanging from the highest
arms. Soon the forest becomes less dense; isolated houses, then
villages, surrounded by patches of cultivated ground, are reached. Such
a village is Pyagone. It is under the jurisdiction of Tonghoo, from
which place letters have been sent for us, and so we hear of those we
care for. Here we part with our elephants and other establishments
belonging to Thyet Myo, exchanging the former for small Burmese ponies,
on which the remaining part of our journey is performed. Several more
marches were performed, differing in no particular characteristic from
those already alluded to. Then, glittering in the sun, but still a long
way in front of us, the pinnacle of a gilded pagoda indicates the
position of Tonghoo. As we plod along the dusty way, we overtake a
caravan of Shans, their bullocks laden with merchandise to market. We
reach the remains of what was once the fortified wall by which the city
was surrounded, but is now a series of dilapidated fragments. Friends I
come out to receive and offer us hospitality; baths and good cheer soon
set us up; we look back amused at such small discomforts as we had
recently undergone.
Tonghoo marks the eastern
limit of what was, three centuries B.C., the empire of Asoka. The modern
town, however, dates only from the tenth Century of our era; its
position, upon a peninsula round which winds the river Sitang. At a
distance eastward, the Karenee range of mountains some four thousand
feet in height, their sides thickly covered by forest; the general
aspect of the locality and its surroundings forlorn and unattractive.
At the time of our visit
a political "complication" with the king of Burmah was considered likely
to be the outcome of a different interpretation as to the boundary line
between Native and British Burmah entertained by the Indian and Burmese
officials; while the Karens lay claim, in opposition to both, to a tract
of territory said to have been occupied by them from time immemorial.
Some months subsequently this matter was amicably arranged.
Our duties performed, our
homeward journey began; we start away to Tantabin, where long, narrow
boats lie moored to the bank, awaiting to take us on board, and so down
the Sitang River. But the hospitality of friends at Tonghoo has yet
another demonstration to the Chief and his party ere we finally take
leave. A sumptuous and costly déjeuner awaits us in the zyat, or
travellers' rest-house at the ghat. When the meal is over and we get on
board each his particular boat, many expressions of mutual good-will
exchanged, much waving of hands and handkerchiefs, and then—our river
trip begins.
The kind of craft in
which the next few days and nights must be spent is peculiar. Mine
consists of the scooped-out trunk of a tree, its inner arrangements
fitted up according to Burmese ideas of comfort, or it may be, luxury.
The measurement of the boat, or rather canoe, is three tons, itself so
narrow and crank that practice is needed to move without tilting it over
to a dangerous degree ; yet on further experience this became
sufficiently easy. The crew comprised six Burmese, active in body,
cheery in disposition, well acquainted with their particular work; ready
to joke and chaff with brother boatmen, as we glided pleasantly down the
stream.
A short halt is made at
Shoay Gheen, an important town, at which in due time we arrive. Here we
find the remains of a stockade, held in considerable strength against
our troops by the Burmese in 1825, though surrendered by them without a
struggle in December of that year. There are two respects in which Shoay
Gheen is famous: the one, that from here direct to Yunnan a trade route
extends; the other, that in the district to which the town gives its
name is the chief habitat of that most dreaded of poisonous snakes, the
hamadryad (Ophiophagus elaps).
Another day and night and
we are at the town of Sitang; its streets and houses are arranged in
regular order, the streets wide, sheltered, boulevard like, by a row of
spreading trees on either side; everywhere flocks of poultry, large and
small, especially of the particular breeds for which Burmah is famous.
On the more prominent points are pagodas, several undergoing repair and
being regilded. Near each is a group of hideous stucco figures of nals;
among these, people in attitudes of devotion, presenting to the images
offerings, sprigs of sacred flowers, jasmine and jonesia (the asoka
tree), and other plants.
In the first Burmese War
a strong position was taken up by them at this place. On January 7,
1826, it was unsuccessfully attacked by our forces, who sustained severe
loss, including their commander; on the 11th, however, the attack was
renewed, the position captured, with a loss to the enemy of six hundred
in a strength of four thousand defenders. In 1852, after peace had been
declared, a British detachment was stationed here, and so remained for
some time.
Time presses; tide waits
for no man. Our boatmen, aware of the latter fact, press on by means of
sail and paddle throughout the night; we arrive at Kadouk soon after
daylight. Considerably to our surprise, our boats are quickly turned
from the main stream into a narrow creek, and there made fast. But the
detention is only for a little; our boatmen resume their work; our boats
re-enter the stream, and for a time keep close to the right bank. A
rushing sound comes upon us from the distance; it increases; the tidal
wave of the Sitang is upon us; not in its full volume, however, for from
a point just ahead of us it breaks with a roar, and then, curling with
foam as it advances, it rushes irresistibly to the opposite bank. It was
to avoid this "bore," for so the wave is named, and being probably
swamped by its force, that our boatmen had pushed on.
Communication between the
Sitang and Pegu rivers was by means of the Kyatsoo creek, and that only
during the three days of spring tides at the present season of the year.
A canal was in progress of construction, and railways were being
extended in various directions; yet neither was usable for our purpose.
One suggestive circumstance, however, we learn: that, anticipating
enhanced value of land as a result of such works, a precocious native
agriculturist is making extensive purchases along the line of the new
waterway. Our passage along the Kyatsoo creek was marked by nothing more
stirring than a succession of groundings, bumps against other craft, and
such trifles. On either side of us cultivated fields extend away to the
distance; on some of them the blue flower of the flax plant is bright
and fresh. Isolated huts and small villages occur at small distances
from each other, and high up in the azure firmament a lark pours forth
its volume of song, as in our own island.
As we proceed, the
tapering summits of pagodas are seen reflecting the sunlight ahead; they
indicate the site of the once important city of Pegu, capital of the
Talain kingdom. A little further and we experience the tide as it comes
from the river so named, to meet that from the Sitang, by which so far
we have been conveyed. A little more and we are back in Rangoon, the
members of our small party hospitably received by newly-made friends,
Mr. and Mrs. Wilkinson kindly taking me to their house.
The next few days were
passed mostly in the performance of official duties, spare intervals
being taken up in visiting places of interest previously passed over
from want of time. Our journey and observations made during it supplied
subject alike for official and for ordinary talk, giving zest to
forecasts variously expressed in regard to the probable issue of events
which may follow upon the death or deposition of the king. The
prevailing view was that Government will place upon the throne the
legitimate heir, and having done so will carry on administration by
means of a Commission. In such an event, it is anticipated that Burmah
will be one of the best fields for British energy and capital, that
communication will be opened up, and resources of the country developed. |
