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.
CHAPTER VI
CIVIL AND MILITARY WORKS
Nothing has been said as yet about roads and communications, the most powerful of all aids in pacifying a disturbed country. The plains of India in most provinces lend themselves to military operations, and for the greater part of the year an army can move about at will. In Burma the long and heavy rains, the numerous streams, and the extensive and dense forests and jungles, make campaigning very difficult. The country, in Sir George White's words, quoted before, "is one huge military obstacle."
Sir Charles Bernard had not lost sight of this part of his work. With the aid of Mr. Richard, of the Public Works Department, a most able superintending engineer, as much as possible had been done. No time had been lost.
In Mandalay itself, in 1886, fifteen miles of road had been re-formed, the bridges renewed and metal consolidated, and in the country generally more than two hundred miles of roads had been taken in hand and partially finished. Tracks one hundred feet in width had been cleared of forest and jungle between many of the military posts, a work in which the military officers took a large part. As our occupation of the country became closer, more roads and more tracks were called for. These forest tracks can hardly be called engineering works, but they were of first importance for the free movement of troops. The time during which road-making can be carried on is short in Burma, owing to the great rainfall. The dry zone in the centre of the province, where the climate is no impediment, is precisely the country where roads are least necessary.
Eastern Governments as a rule trouble themselves very little about roads and public buildings of a useful kind. In Burma there were pagodas and monasteries innumerable. But roads and prosaic buildings, such as court-houses and jails, received little attention. Such a thing as a trunk road did not exist.
Controlling the engineering establishment in Lower Burma there was a chief engineer, who was also Public Works secretary. His hands were full. To ask him to supervise the work in the new province as well was to lay on him an impossible task and to ensure the waste of much money. A chief engineer for Upper Burma was appointed at my request, and Major Gracey, R.E., who was selected for the post, had arrived in Burma. I have met with few men who had more power of work and of getting their subordinates to work, or who took greater care of the public money, than Major Gracey.
On his arrival, in consultation with Colonel Cumming, the expenditure was examined and the whole situation discussed in Rangoon, and afterwards both officers met me in Mandalay. There was much difficulty in obtaining a sufficient number of engineers and a competent engineering establishment. The Indian Public Works service in the higher grades is recruited in England, and the subordinates are appointed in India. Service in Burma was for many reasons unpopular with men trained in India. The other provinces were not anxious to part with their best men. Hence the men who came to Burma were frequently unwilling and sometimes not very efficient.
The difficulty was to apportion the existing establishment as fairly as possible between the two provinces, so as to give Major Gracey a fair number of men with Burman experience.
With Major Gracey's help everything went on well, and as fast as possible. A list of the work done in 1887 would fill a page. The grant for military works in that year was £317,500. Permanent barracks at Mandalay and Bhamo, and a great number of temporary buildings to accommodate troops, were erected all over Burma in the first year of Major Gracey's tenure. Many of the temporary buildings were put up by military and civil officers; but after a time, all military buildings were carried out by the Public Works Department.
The Civil Works grant was nearly £350,000.
The provinces had no court-houses, no jails, no places of detention at the police stations, and no barracks or accommodation for the military police. Two larger jails, one at Mandalay for eight hundred prisoners and one at Myingyan for one thousand, although not yet completed, were already occupied. Of three smaller prisons at Monywa, Pagan, and Minbu, one was finished and two partially, but enough to be of use. At ten stations small lock-ups were being built for persons arrested by the police. The jails and lock-ups were pressed on, because the existing arrangements for confining prisoners inherited from the Burmese Government were insufferable, and in some cases inhuman.
Provision had to be made for housing some thousands of military police. At the headquarters of eighteen districts accommodation had to be provided for about half a battalion, with hospitals, guard-rooms, magazines, and cook-houses. These buildings, especially the hospitals with accommodation for 8 per cent. of the strength, were constructed of good permanent material. The barracks, officers' quarters, stables, and the like were built in the cheapest way consistent with comfort and health. The condition of the country in a year or two would permit, it was expected, of a reduction of the military police force, or at least of a change in its disposition; the barrack accommodation would not be permanently wanted, but the hospitals could be used for the civil population.
Added to all this building work, roads to the extent of five hundred miles, of which one hundred and fifty were hill roads, were laid out and made passable, raised and bridged in most cases, and in some places metalled. These works were scattered over the province from Bhamo to the old frontier of British Burma. In designing the roads it was remembered that the great trunk lines of communication were the great rivers in the centre and west of the province, and the railway in the east. All the main roads were designed to be feeders to the rivers or the rails. In addition to the larger roads, many hundreds of miles of tracks and rough district roads were cut through the forest and jungles, and a survey was begun, to open up the difficult Yaw country, through which we had afterwards to push troops. (vide Chapter XXI.). I think it may be claimed that our engineers did their duty.
The middle of Upper Burma, the dry zone, as it is called, differs in climatic conditions from the country to the south and north of it. The rainfall is deficient, and droughts, sometimes severe, are not unknown.
The Burmese rulers were capable of large conceptions, but they lacked skill; and their great irrigation schemes, attempted without sufficient science, were foredoomed to failure. The largest works of this class existing, when we took the country, were the Mandalay and Shwèbo Canals, which were of little use, as even where the construction was not faulty they had been allowed to go to ruin. In Kyauksè Salin (Minbu district) and elsewhere there were extensive canals of a less ambitious nature, which although neglected were still of much service. Even in the turmoil of 1886 and the pressure of what was in fact a state of war, Sir Charles Bernard found time to attend to the irrigation systems; and as soon as a skilled engineer could be obtained from India, and funds allotted, the work of irrigation was tackled in earnest. The first business was to examine the existing systems and see whether they could be made use of. Before I left Burma in December, 1890, I had the pleasure of knowing that this work was in hand, and that further deterioration from neglect had been stopped, and also that new schemes were under consideration.
The expenditure in Upper Burma at this time was very great. An army of fourteen thousand men cannot be kept in the field for nothing. The military police force was a second army, and there was besides all the cost of the civil administration. The incoming revenue was in comparison insignificant. In 1886-7 it had been £250,000 in round numbers, in 1887-8 it rose to £500,000—not enough to cover the public works expenditure alone.
It was not wonderful, therefore, that the Government of India, whose finances at the time were by no means happy, should be nervous about the expenditure. They were most gentle and considerate in the matter; and although it was evident that our success in Burma would be measured in England mainly by the financial results, no pressure was put upon me to get in revenue, and I felt the pinch chiefly in the difficulty of getting an adequate and competent engineering establishment and immediate funds for works, the urgency of which was less apparent to the Government of India than to me on the spot. With Lord Dufferin's backing I obtained what I wanted, and I hope I did not exhibit an indecent importunity.
I had considered and reported to the Finance Department all possible means of raising the revenue. On the whole, my conclusion was that we had to look rather to existing sources than to new taxation, which in a country not yet completely subdued and of which we had imperfect knowledge would have been inexpedient. The excise revenue might have been made profitable, but we were debarred from interfering for the time with the regulations made and sanctioned (somewhat hastily, perhaps) by the Government of India, immediately after the annexation.
Under the circumstance, the best and quickest method of improving the financial conditions was clearly the reduction of the field force. This was already under discussion. The initial step had been taken and one regiment of Native Infantry had been sent back to India. The military police had begun to relieve the troops in the outposts. The Major-General, Sir George White (who in addition to his merits as a gallant leader and good strategist, was an able administrator), was careful always of public money, and in perfect accord with the civil administration. He desired his men to be relieved as quickly as possible.
It was a matter, however, in which it was unsafe to rush, and in which a heavy responsibility rested on me. Events were happening from time to time which warned us that we were not yet out of the wood. On the 3rd of June, for example, the troops at Pyinulwin, forty miles from Mandalay, led by Colonel May, had attacked a stockade held on behalf of the Setkya Mintha, a pretender. Darrah, Assistant Commissioner, was killed, an officer named Cuppage badly wounded, and several men lost. Hkam Leng (see Chapter XX.) was active in the Möngmit Country.
"The Moat," Mandalay.
And North Wall of Fort Dufferin.
The Commissioners of the Northern and Central Divisions were urging me to have the large and numerous islands between Mandalay and Sagaing cleared of the gangs who held them. They represented the necessity of a river patrol. The cry from the Southern Division was for launches. The Commissioner wrote that the only boat in his division fit for service was that assigned to the military authorities; and this was the day after Captain Hext's arrival on his mission from India, to persuade me to reduce my demand for boats.
The Deputy Commissioner for Mandalay reported that there was a dacoit leader stockaded within forty miles of Mandalay, and that he was unable to get a force to turn him out of his position.
At the same time (July, 1887) bad news came from the Ye-u district. Two pretenders had appeared with a considerable following. As a prelude they had burnt villages, crucified one of the village headmen, and committed other brutalities. The civil administration was obliged to ask for help from the soldiers in this case. The weather was fine, and the country which these men had occupied was a good field for cavalry. The Hyderabad Cavalry were in the field at once, and the Inspector-General of Police was able to get together a hundred mounted military police and send them to help. A force from the Chindwin side co-operated. The gathering was very soon scattered. One of the leaders died of fever and the other escaped for a time, but was afterwards captured in the Lower Chindwin district, where he was attempting to organize another rising.
I was compelled in Sagaing also to ask Sir George White's assistance. The Sagaing Police battalion was backward in training and not fit for outpost work in a bad district. The death of Hla U had been expected to bring peace. But it now appeared that the district on both sides of the Mu was in the hands of three or four dacoit leaders who collected a fixed revenue from each village, which was spared so long as the demand was paid. Any headman who failed to pay was murdered remorselessly. In some cases the man's wife and children were killed before his face, to add to the sting of death.
The system in the Sagaing and other districts much resembled—in its machinery, not altogether in its methods—the organization of the Nationalists in Ireland.
At my request Sir George White consented to occupy the district closely, and although the gangs were not caught or brought to justice, some protection was given to the peaceful part of the population until we were ready later on to take the district in hand and destroy the gangs.
In Sagaing, as in some other cases, the local officers had been ignorant of what was going on around them. It was believed to be quiet because we had no touch with the people, and they told us nothing.
The intention in referring to these events is to show why caution was needed in the matter of relieving the troops. It must be remembered that a very large proportion of the military police had received very little training before their arrival. With the exception of some two thousand men, all were recruits entirely untaught in drill or discipline. The employment of such raw men on outpost duty under native officers whom they did not know was not without risk. In many cases the risk had to be faced, and consequently some disasters were inevitable. Progress was slow, but under the conditions it was good. "To instil discipline into so large a body of young soldiers," wrote the Inspector-General (General Stedman), "was a far more difficult task than to teach them the rudiments of drill. By discipline must be understood not only good conduct in quarters and prompt obedience to the orders of superiors, but the necessity of sticking to one another in the field and the habit of working together as a welded body."
Before I left Mandalay again for Lower Burma, Sir George White and I had arrived at an agreement regarding the force which it was necessary to keep up. We were able to propose the abolition of the field force and the reduction of the garrison by one regiment of British Infantry, two regiments of Indian Cavalry, eight regiments of Indian Infantry, and one British Mountain Battery. The allocation of the troops and police was reviewed in consultation with the Commissioners of Divisions and so made that the one force supplemented the other. The reduction was to take effect from the spring of 1888.
We were now about to enter on a new development of the British occupation. The civil officers, supported by the military police, were to take the responsibility of keeping order. The soldiers were there ready to help if need be, but they were not to be called out except for operations beyond the power of the police.
CHAPTER VII
A VISIT TO BHAMO
I had arranged to hold a Durbar at Mandalay on the 5th of August, in order to meet the notables of Burma, and such of the Shan chiefs as might be able to come, face to face, and to make them understand the position, the intentions, and the power of the British Government. I hoped, perhaps not in vain, that the spirit of my words might penetrate to the towns and villages of Burma.
Meanwhile I had not visited Bhamo, and I decided to go there. I had sent for Mr. Hildebrand, whom I wanted to consult about the operations in the Shan States which were to be undertaken in the coming cold season. He arrived before I left Mandalay for Bhamo, and as he evidently needed rest, I asked him to remain at Government House until my return.
I found Bhamo a disappointing place. A very dirty, miserable kind of village, arranged in two streets parallel to the river. At the back lay a marsh or lagoon, which evidently was at one time a channel for the backwater of the river. Conservancy there was none, and the stench from the streets, the lagoon, and even the bank of the river was sickening. Considering that the place had been the headquarters of a district since our occupation, and a cantonment for British and Indian troops, it was not much to be proud of. But the soldiers and the civil officers had been well occupied with more pressing business.
The Chinese were the most prominent of the population. They were all, it was said, opium smokers, and seldom moved until near midday. They managed notwithstanding to make money, and to retire with fortunes after a few years. I anticipated a large increase of the trade with China, but doubted if the town could grow much on its present site.[20] As to the trade, it could not make much progress on account of the cost of transport between Bhamo and Tengyueh, the risk of attack by Kachins, and the exactions and oppressions of the Chinese Customs officials, who at one time had maintained a likin station within the British boundary not far from Bhamo. There was another route used by traders, which went by Mansi and Namkham, a Shan State on the Shwèli. Since the Kachins in the country south of Bhamo have been subjugated, the Chinese caravans have preferred the Namkham route; and at present although the Kachins have ceased to raid, and much has been done of late to improve the road to Tengyueh, the trade has not returned to that channel.
A survey for a light railway to Tengyueh has been made, but a strange indifference exists to the benefits certain, as I think, to result from making the line. The construction of a railway between Northern Burma and Yunnan has always appeared to me essential to the full development of the province. The opportunity has been lost and France has anticipated us. It would be a difficult and expensive work no doubt, but whether more difficult than the French line may be doubted. Even now, after twenty years, it has not been surveyed beyond the Kunlon ferry, and the opinion of persons without engineering knowledge has been accepted as sufficient to condemn it. But we may still hope. Napoleon crossing the Alps might have scoffed at the notion of a railway to Italy.
There is a vast area of land in Upper Burma waiting for population to cultivate it, and if communications were made easy, the Chinese Shans and possibly Chinese and Panthays from Yunnan might be induced to settle in the northern districts. The Chinese and Burmans are akin, and the offspring of Chinese fathers and Burman mothers have the good qualities of both races, which cannot be said of other crosses.
I returned to Mandalay from Bhamo before the end of July, having learnt and arranged much, especially in consultation with Major Adamson, the Deputy Commissioner, regarding the contemplated occupation of Mogaung. The stations on the river were all inspected on the way down.
I found Mr. Hildebrand waiting for me, and discussed with him and with Sir George White the plans for an expedition to the Shan States.
The Durbar was held on the 5th of August, and I think was a useful function. It was held in the great Eastern Hall of the Palace, the place where the King of Burma used to give audience to his feudatories and his people. The ex-ministers and some of the Shan Sawbwas were present, and the great hall was crowded with notables and officials from Mandalay and other districts. It must have been to them a striking occasion, and to many of them, perhaps, not altogether pleasant. To such as had any patriotic feeling, and no doubt many of them had, the representative of a foreign Government standing in front of the empty throne must have been the abomination of desolation standing where it ought not.[21]
My duty, however, was not to show sympathy with sentiment of this kind, but to impress them with the permanence, the benevolence, and the power of the new Government. In an appendix I have given the text of my speech and some comments upon it taken from an article in the Times newspaper of the 13th of September, 1887. Two of the high Burman officials who had formerly been in the King's service, the Kinwun Mingyi, one of the Ministers of the State, and the Myowun, or City Governor of Mandalay, both of whom had given great assistance to the British Government, received decorations. The former was made a Companion of the Star of India and the latter of the Indian Empire. I was glad to get the following commendation from Lord Dufferin.
He wrote: "I congratulate you on your Durbar and upon the excellent speech you made on the occasion. It was full of go and good sense, and will convince everybody that you really mean business."
There were fresh rumours at this time (August, 1887) of hostile intentions on the part of the Chinese, of gatherings of soldiers and bandits on the frontier, of the presence of auxiliaries from Yunnan with San Ton Hon in Theinni. There was no foundation in fact for any of these rumours; Mr. Warry, the Chinese adviser, placed no faith in them, and I did not believe in them. But they were repeated in the newspapers, magnified in gossip, and disturbed the public mind.
The best way of silencing these rumours was to make our occupation of the northernmost district, Mogaung, effectual, and to establish a definite control in the Shan States. In concert with the Major-General, proposals for effecting both these objects had been prepared and were before the Government of India, and I knew that the Viceroy approved them.
In neither case was serious opposition expected. Detailed accounts of both movements will be found in separate chapters of this book. In the case of the Shan States, the character of the expedition was essentially peaceful and conciliatory. The escorts given to the two civil officers were strong enough to deter, or if necessary overcome, opposition and support the dignity of our representatives. But unless hostilities broke out, in which case the military commanders would necessarily become supreme, the control was vested in the senior civil officer, Mr. Hildebrand. It is unnecessary to say more here, except that with Sir George White's help everything was done to keep down the cost. Not a man more than was absolutely necessary was sent. The Shan plateau, at this time nowhere prosperous, was in some parts on the verge of famine; not from drought or other climatic cause, but simply from the cat-and-dog life the people had led for some years. No supplies could be obtained in the country. It was necessary to ration the troops for four or five months, and the cost of transport was heavy.
Every one felt, however, that cost what it might, the work we had undertaken must be completed. Nothing could have justified us in leaving the Shan country any longer in a state of anarchy; and I doubt if even the most narrow-minded Under Secretary in the Financial Department dared to raise objections to the needful expenditure. It may be permitted to say here that no money was better spent. The Shan plateau for lovely scenery, for good climate, and I believe for its natural wealth, is proving itself a most valuable possession. Lord Dufferin thoroughly approved of the action taken in these cases.
It was a relief to deal with these larger matters. They were less harassing than the constant stream of administrative details of every kind which leave a man at the head of a large province barely time to think of his most important problems. The demands from the Secretary of State for information, which came through the Government of India, wasted a great deal of time. Members of Parliament who cannot force themselves into notice in other ways, take up a subject like Burma, of which no one knows anything, and ask questions which the Secretary of State has to answer. Frequently there was little foundation for these questions, and when the call came to answer them, it took both time and labour to ascertain what they were all about. Correspondents of newspapers, not so much perhaps out of malice—although that is not quite unknown—as from the necessities of their profession are greedy for sensational news. They know that the English public prefer to think that their servants abroad are either fools or scoundrels. If everything is reported to be going well and the officers to be doing their duty, few will credit it, and none will be interested in it. But hint vaguely at dark intrigues or horrible atrocities, ears are cocked at once, and the newspaper boys sweep in the pence.
Few of the uninitiated would believe how much time has to be given by the head of an Indian province to the placing of his men. In a climate like Burma, and under the conditions obtaining in 1887, frequent and sudden sickness compels officers to take leave. The civil staff of the province was barely sufficient if no losses occurred. If a man fell out it was often difficult to supply his place, and if a good man went down, as they often did, it was sometimes impossible to find a good man to succeed him. Writing to Lord Dufferin at this time (September, 1887) of one of the worst districts, I said: "I have not been able to put a good man there yet, but I hope to have a man soon. It all depends on getting hold of the right man." In a settled province the personal factor is not so important; but in a newly annexed country it is everything. Even in the oldest province in India, if a fool is put in charge of a district and kept there long enough you will have trouble of some sort.
Much has been heard of late years of the evils of transfers, and even Viceroys have talked as if the carelessness or favouritism of provincial governors were responsible for the mischief. The real cause in my experience is the inadequacy of the staff of officers. If one man falls sick and has to leave his district, two or three transfers may become inevitable. The Government of India realize no doubt that the staff, of the smaller provinces especially, is inadequate. If they give a liberal allowance of Englishmen the expense is increased and promotion becomes too slow. If they cut down the staff, the head of the province has to tear his hair and worry through somehow.