History of the Kingdom of Siam and of the revolutions that have caused the overthrow of the empire, up to A.D. 1770

by F. H. Turpin

CHAPTER IX.

THE REVOLUTION OF 1767.

The new Burmese monarch desired nothing better than warfare and conquests. Too proud to conceal his feelings, he boasted that he had promised his dying father to crush the the cowardly nation that merely waited for a conqueror to reduce it to bondage. Several high officials supported his ambitious projects.

His first victories were gained over his intractable and rebellious subjects. As soon as they had been subjugated, he sent one of his generals in command of five thousand picked troops to effect the capture of Tavoy, whose governor, although a Burman, had made himself independent in 1761.

This rebel, not feeling that he alone would be able to maintain his position with his own troops, sought an alliance with the English who supplied him with all manner of arms and ammunition. At same time a vessel from the Coromandel coast, and laden with rich presents for Pegu, was obliged to drop anchor at Tavoy. The idea of a rich booty won over the governor who resolved to appropriate so valuable a cargo in order to purchase an alliance with Siam, who, alone could have supported him in his encroachments.

Having taken possession of these valuable spoils unjustly, he sent them to the King of Siam and besought his assistance. The ministers took counsel together as to whether the reception of this embassy would be compromising to the dignity of the King, and for some time were uncertain whether good or evil would result if the conditions were accepted.

They thought the wisest course to pursue was to ask the opinion of the Bishop of Tabraca and the Missionaries, who having no personal interest in the matter ought to be able to give good advice. They replied that to protect a rebel was contrary to all equity and policy. They added that Tavoy had always been a Burmese dependency and that in assisting an ambitious man who had usurped the power, they would become accessories in the rebellion and would expose the Kingdom to the vengeance of a powerful neighbour, who had nothing to lose by defeat and everything to gain by victory. The ministers were satisfied with this answer and asked that it should be given in writing feeling sure that the authority of the Bishop and the missionaries backed up by their wisdom and character would have great weight with the King.

The document was drawn up, and the ministers presented it to the step-brother of the King, who was hankering after the rich presents of the rebellious governor. He made a great show of indignation against those who by their scruples would have deprived him of the objects of his greed. He tore up the document which indicated the line of action on which depended the peace and prosperity of the State.

The intrigues of the favourites were successful and the ambassadors were honourably received and listened to graciously. Urgent commands were sent to the governor of Tenasserim to fit out an expedition for the relief of Tavoy, but nothing came of the project. The governor of this town became the object of public execration; the bloodshed of the leading citizens was the means by which he had wished to consolidate his growing power, and his new subjects became his enemies. Attempts were made on his life in 1762, and as punishments were multiplied, the more unpopular he became.

The Burmese general had arrived at Martaban with his army. From this town he wrote to the governor ordering him to offer no resistance. He uttered dire threats against the inhabitants who refused to help him.

The people of Tavoy seeing an army ready to beseige their town, declared that they had determined to render homage to their legitimate ruler. The usurper surrounded by both foreign and domestic enemies, weak in his defences and threatened by invasion, had no other resource left but flight.

He equipped a vessel for his escape, but the people by whom he was hated, suspected his plan and fired his ship either from motives of revenge, or to prevent him from carrying off his wealth.

He was so unwise as to show himself in public and found out that despots cease to be respected when their power is gone.

His subjects, who before had been trembling slaves, planned to slay him at the city gate. The women, always more excited by popular frenzy vied with each other for the honour of striking the first blow. They were highly delighted to see as a suppliant before them, one who formerly had exacted unquestioning obedience.

The rebel, after many adventures sought sanctuary at Mergui, to which place he was followed by his relatives and a few supporters who had either the nobility of character to wish to share his misfortunes, or perhaps so guilty that they feared the harshness of an angry judge.

His fleet of sixty galleys by no means reassured the inhabitants who were not anxious to shelter an outlaw pursued by a victorious army. Panic was general, some fled to the forests, and others to desert islands fearing death by starvation less than to have to appear before a wrathful conqueror.

The governor feared that those who had given him shelter would not respect the rights of hospitality for long. He only begged a small force with which to go and retake the town that he had evacuated on the strength of a false report. He considered that the letter from the Burmese General had been sent by an advanced body of troops whom he would keep up even in time of peace. He then began to doubt whether the document had been genuine and suspected that it had been the work of some disaffected persons who had concocted it to give him a false alarm, and to make him take his departure. He was so convinced that his idea was correct that he persuaded himself that his subjects were his only enemies. Thus a victim of his blind faith he went to give himself up to a ruler whom he had offended.

This rumour was taken as credible by so many that the captains of the ships at Mergui, who had been alarmed by the first news of the Burmese advance, believed they were in perfect safety. Trade that had been interrupted for some time was renewed. The fugitives returned to their houses, and the town that had been deserted for eight days, resumed its normal aspect. The Christians had been very anxious to embark for the Coromandel coast and only one availed himself of the offer of a Portuguese captain who sailed on January 8th, 1765, but the rest very soon saw that they had been misled by a false sense of security.

On the 10th of January, a confused noise as of a shouting multitude was heard in the evening by the river side. The sounds gave rise to the idea that the enemy were approaching and that the first alarms had been only too well founded. In fact the enemy were only three or four leagues from the city and a pilot had seen ten of their ships. A short period of calm succeeded this alarm. The pilot on being questioned replied that he had seen nothing whereupon everybody returned home quietly.

The missionaries were in a calmer frame of mind, because they had seen that quiet reigned on board the ships anchored in midstream, and were sure that the noise that had been reported was only a product of panic stricken imagination. But at four o'clock in the morning fifty gun shots were heard which left no longer room for doubt that the Burmese had arrived.

The startled inhabitants perceived that death or speedy captivity would be their portion. The captains of the trading ships cut their cables at once, and fearing to fall into the power of a savage foe, allowed their ships to drift with the stream without heeding the danger of shipwreck to which the inequalities of the river bed rendered then liable.

The Christians who remembered the horrors of the late war shuddered with dread at the thoughts of these savage creatures steeped in the gore of old men and of children butchered on the still smoking bodies of their mothers. All fled to their boats and endeavoured to escape from certain death.

The Burmese made their attack and found no resistance. The love of life had driven away all thoughts of defence.

The pillars of fire that were rising on all sides made the inhabitants judge that their country was but a wood-pile being devoured by the flames. M. M. Andrien and Alari both came down to the church and were soon followed by a crowd of Christians. These two missionaries exhorted them to make a generous sacrifice of their lives and promised to set them an example of how to meet death. The fire which was devouring the neighbouring houses was about to attack the church. M. Alari thought of running away and begged the others to look to their safety. He took some money for his needs and buried the rest at the foot of a tree, in the hope of finding it again after the fire had burnt out. He saw that the enemies had gained possession of the gates. Then to save himself from the impending danger, he told a young servant who could speak Burmese to inform the soldiers at the gates that neither he nor his companions would offer any resistance. The Burman was satisfied with this message and with some money which was given to him he put down his spear, but he asked for and was given a shabby hat which had aroused his cupidity.

But the soldiers who came up shortly afterwards were not so moderate in their demands, for they pulled off all his clothes.

In vain they were informed that nakedness was shameful. He spoke to the Burmese but they would not listen to him. The same soldiers greedy for more valuable booty entered the house to seize what they could. They broke open the chest containing the sacred vessels which they defiled with their impious hands. The missionaries, robbed and almost naked were dragged to the harbour and put on board a ship. As the water was rough they were made to cross long stretch of ground covered with mud and they would have been buried in the mire if they had not been helped by two native servants who had still remained faithful.

Hardly had they embarked when they received the order to return. As soon as they had arrived at the general's tent they were placed on the ground, and were beaten with rods to make them put down their legs. This they had not done, as they were unaware of the etiquette of the Burmese towards their superiors. The general surrounded by his savage myrmidons commanded them in threatening tones to go with the other Christians to seize those ships which had not cut their cables. M. Alari who was also ordered to convey a letter to the captains, replied that his sacred office forbade him to take up arms and above all to shed human blood. Many of the bystanders testified to the truth of his statements and his excuse was accepted; but although they had escaped this danger they were reserved for more terrible misfortunes.

Attendants armed with lances conducted them to the bank of the river where they were obliged to witness the greatest scandals and the filthiest abominations. They were exposed in the middle of the public market, with their feet in the mud from daybreak till noon. Their hats which alone could have protected them from the burning rays of the sun had been stolen. They expected death any moment but awaited its approach fearlessly. A lively faith upheld them and they only noticed the misfortunes of other Christians who like themselves had fallen into captivity.

The general encamped by the shore, made careful enquiries in order to discover the place or any information as to where they had buried their wealth and the secret was discovered by torture.

M. Andrien was denounced as a wealthy man, and acting on the information received, the general went to the church with Gaspard, the honest servant of the virtuous missionary. Both prayers and threats were employed to make him reveal the spot where his master had hidden his wealth. The young man naively answered, "that as his master was a priest to whom earthly possessions were valueless, he had never possessed anything besides what the Burmese had carried off."

The greedy Burman unsatisfied with this answer, condemned him to the torture. His feet were thrust into a brazier of glowing charcoal in hopes that the torment of fire would make him reveal a secret that the insolence of authority had failed to do.

Gaspard, who had withstood their promises, showed that he cared naught for tortures. The barbarian was highly annoyed at such contumacious behaviour, whereas he ought to have admired the heroism displayed. He drew his sword and was about to cut off his head. The young man 17 years old was quite impervious to fear, he had not the slightest intention of begging for his life, he merely asked for a few moments in which to commend his soul to God "Let me say a prayer" he said, "and after which you may do as you please with me." His request was granted and after a short interval spent in prayer, he cried out "strike."

The general, amazed to see such heroic conduct in the case of one so young, was seized with a sudden admiration. He thought that a man who had given so striking a proof of fidelity to his masters, ought to join his retinue, and he was treated more as a favourite than as a slave. If we draw a comparison between the atrocities perpetrated by this nation in the war of 1760 and their conduct in this latter conflict, we can perceive that they had lost something of their former savagery. In the former struggle, children had participated in the tortures of their parents, but on this occasion they were merely mournful spectators. But even this blessed change which commenced to become apparent in the manners and customs of the Burmese was still too weak to disguise their pristine characteristics, especially in cases in which they had given themselves up to the lust of avarice. The following notices will assure the reader on these points.

When the Burmese King undertakes a war, he retains only the parents of the conquered as slaves, and he generously hands over the children to the generals and other subordinate officers. It follows from this method of sharing the spoils, that children are often separated for ever from their parents. Here is a touching example of the unhappiness of such innocent victims.

A child six years of age, having been left in a boat, cried ceaselessly for his parents from whom he had just been separated. His streaming eyes were fixed in the direction of the spot where they had last been seen. After two days he saw on the bank one of his aunts to whom he was much attached. This woman, grieved at the loss of her nephew, followed the boat to console herself with a sight which could only make her grief more intense. The child, for whom the sight of his aunt was only a new torture, cried and stretched out his arms and called to her to help him, and at last flung himself in the river to go and rejoin her. The Burmese, untouched by this victory of nature, saved the child only to make him feel the loss of his liberty more keenly. A tender heart had restored him to his relatives, but the brutal captain thrust him into the hold of the vessel so as to run no further risk of losing him.

The Burmese are desirous of great wealth, and, although by nature a warlike race, it is rather the lust of pillage than the mere idea of glory that incites them to risk their persons. War is but a trade, according to their way of thinking, and he who returns with the richest spoils receives the greatest honour from his country. Those who fall into their power have every thing to fear if they are unable to satisfy their greed, and it is quite certain that avarice is the mainspring of their cruelty. A poor Christian, who was believed to be possessed of great wealth, was put to the torture to make him reveal the hiding place of his non-existent riches; but no amount of suffering could extort a word from him. The angry Burman in the presence of his wife and dying mother drew his sword to cut off his head. Frightened at the near approach of death, he begged for a respite, in the vain hope of discovering some means whereby the greed of his savage master might be satisfied. He was unable to fulfil his promises, and, to punish his failure, he was bound hand and foot and cast into the river.

His mother at the point of death, summoned up all her strength and looked at the surface of the water fated to be the tomb of her son, and, just as he was sinking, she grabbed him by the hair and saved his life.

A shipmaster by name Rolland was highly respected at Mergui where he carried on a considerable amount of trade. For a long time he was uncertain as to which party he should favour.

When he saw that the Burmese had gained possession of the town, he thought it expedient to set sail, but as his vessel was out of repair, it appeared that this course would be too dangerous. He retired with some of the members of his family to the hut of some Christians who had showed hospitality towards him, but he was shortly afterwards discovered and robbed of all his possessions. Unfortunately for him, he was found with arms in his possession. On being questioned as to their use, he replied, that, at the first rumour of the Burmese arrival at Mergui he had thought that a force of Malays a people well known in the Indies for their piratical tendencies, was about to make an attack, and that having at once resolved upon flight, he had taken up weapons with which to defend himself against tigers which were numerous in the forests. The shipmaster and his companions had no longer any fear for their life or their liberty.

The enemy were graciously pleased to give them back some garments and a fair supply of provender, more than they had expected from conquerors already pressed by famine.

To the Burmese, any attempt at self-defence is a heinous offence, and whoever has lifted his hand against them need not hope for any mercy. Thus instead of respecting the bravery of a foeman, they show pity only on the poltroon who grovels before them.

A Moorish ship, in setting sail had fired several guns at their vessels. Four sailors who had not had time to embark were ruthlessly slaughtered in revenge for the deed of their companions. Their cruel fate caused much anxiety among the Christians. Several had been convicted of bearing arms, and there was no doubt that sentence of death would be shortly pronounced against them. The executioner was awaiting the signal to give the fatal blow. In this moment of suspense, a venerable old man advanced crawling on hands and knees and prostrating himself before the general, informed him that the condemned missionaries were well known for their bounty and their zeal for the relief of those in trouble, and that far from having taken up arms with hostile intent, their religion forbade their use even for purposes of self-defence. All those present appeared moved, and took their part with the general, who at last relented. The sentence of death was revoked. The Christians and Mahomedans who would have been slaughtered together, were sentenced to transportation to Pegu to swell the ranks of the royal slaves.

An unforseen occurrence was the cause of great rejoicings on the part of the Christians. At this period these unhappy people, expecting no human aid, had given themselves up to God alone. They saw a young Portuguese half-caste who had just arrived from Pegu, come on board their vessel. He offered to be their liberator on condition that they would follow him to Pegu to minister to the Christians who had no pastors in that country. This young man Jeanchi by name, was a native of Macao in China. He had been carried off as a slave from Mergui by the Burmese in 1760, and had been taken to Pegu where by his industry he had found a means of gaining his freedom. His abilities were well known and well rewarded.

He afterwards married the granddaughter of Constantine Faulcon and was besides a zealous Christian. The missionaries welcomed their deliverer as a messenger from heaven. He claimed them as ministers of his religion and the general released them on those grounds without further delay. Owing to the fact that his duties frequently called him to distant ports, he sent them back in charge of a Burmese captain of milder disposition than the rest. The captain who had his own affairs to attend to, forgot to supply them with food. In the evening, Jeanchi sent them a little rice which they shared with the other destitute Christians. He endeavoured to muster all the scattered Christians together and lodged them in houses that had been spared by the fire. Sometimes he found young children whom he restored to their sorrowing parents. Sometimes he gave back a wife to her husband, and when he could not succeed by artifice he cast himself down before the leaders to beg for their release with great eloquence. "Kill me," he would say to them "and let me no longer be the witness of their misfortunes which I myself feel so deeply." His prayers were heard as he was regarded as a national hero. His skill had directed the operations of the war and his courage had contributed to their success. But in spite of his importunities, and the esteem in which he was held, he was unable to obtain the Christian virgins whom the barbarians wished to retain for the gratification of their brutal lust. It was pitiable to hear the groans of these pure unsullied doves, who sighed for the deliverance that none could afford them. The married women were more fortunate, as they were protected by the scruples which these savages hold regarding the sanctity of the marriage-tie. These scruples acted as a check on their unbridled lust, and it was quite sufficient for a man to claim a woman as his wife to prevent an attack on her modesty.

Several virgins declared they were married women and by this harmless fib they were enabled to avoid the brutish embraces of the men whom they considered as executioners rather than as lovers.

The ships that had been obliged to beat a hurried retreat had abandoned part of their cargoes on the bank. The missionaries and the other Christians were obliged to put these goods on board other vessels; all were forced to this work without exception. The master found himself working beside his slave. Several old and respectable ladies walked along, staggering under heavy burdens that taxed their strength, and frequently whips were used to stimulate their exertions.

The Burmese were too eager for plunder to be satisfied with the conquest of Mergui. One of their generals set out with the greater part of the army against Tenasserim, the capital of a province of the same name.

This town although strongly fortified did not appear to a sufficient defence against the Burmese rabble, who reached the foot of the walls without meeting any resistance. The gates were wide open and the terrified inhabitants had fled to the forests to avoid a danger that they were unwilling to face. Fear had exaggerated the number of the foemen, and the governor had been the first to desert his post. They were conquered by terror rather than by the arms and the valour of their enemies. The Burmese filled their ships with loot and having seized everything of value, fired the town and returned in triumph to Mergui. Jeanchi, who was anxious for the safety of the missionaries made them embark with their converts. The voyage was only of six days' duration and although they were well-cared for, they had to suffer in various other ways. They were continually threatened with death if the least thing were to be missing from the plunder on their arrival. Twenty soldiers armed with spears and daggers watched all their actions and they were forbidden to get ahead of the war-vessels that were acting as their escort to the harbour.

They were welcomed on their arrival by two Peguan Christians who showed great pleasure at meeting them. They were escorted by a ship belonging to a rich and powerful Mahomedan who did his utmost to protect those in trouble.

He informed them that their master had given him permission to take them on board his own ship where they would be in safety. After this comforting information, they set out to meet the generous Mahomedan, by name Mamasadech, who evinced the greatest sympathy for their sorry plight, and promised to rescue the Christian girls from the arms of their ravishers. As a result, next day an edict was issued forbidding the Burmese of all classes to insult any Christian.

The liberal Mahomedan spared no expense on behalf of the Christians. He gave them much good advice and showed the greatest sympathy towards those in misfortune. The missionaries assured of his good faith, breathed again. But at the moment of their new-found security they were summoned before the commander, who showing them the vases and sacred vessels that had been seized, told them to point out which were their property. Having been satisfied on this point, he enquired how much money had been taken from them. This cunning question caused M. Andrien much embarrassment, who feared to injure his despoilers and those whose vengeance he had to fear. He answered, that as his knowledge of the language of the country was scanty, he was unable to explain.

This reply aroused the suspicion that he had some money concealed. The general ordered that the torture should be applied. There was a cauldron of molten lead close at hand into which the hands of those from whom they desired to extort confessions were plunged. He was led up to the glowing metal and a soldier seized his hand, which he held out over the cauldron awaiting a signal to plunge it in. M. Andrien turned towards his judge with a calm expression and protested that he had concealed nothing, and, at the same instant, Mamasadech hearing of what was happening, ran up to save him from the impending danger. His companion underwent the same examination, but his fate was very different. He was unaware that to conceal money was a heinous offence among the Burmese. He had given some to Captain Jeanchi for the redemption of Christians from death and slavery and had reserved a moderate sum for the relief of his brethren. These facts caused his embarrassment when subjected to the examination that he feared.

He had been brought up in a school where mental reservation and equivocal replies were regarded as being contrary to the simple truth. He warned Jeanchi that he would be expected to answer, and that he did not intend to disgrace himself by uttering falsehoods.

Jeanchi was well aware of the consequences of an avowal that would be equally fatal to them both, and in order to forestall them, gave back the property together with the agreement that all his expenses would be paid, and, a few days after, stirred up a persecution caused by weakness rather than by hatred against his friends. He had been accused of having taken money from a Christian virgin who had laid information before the Viceroy. He feared that the evidence of M. Alari would only make his case worse and so thought he could best clear himself by declaring to the Viceroy that he had just restored the money to the missionary by whom it had been entrusted to him.

The Burman was wrath, and summoned the missionaries before him. They appeared destitute of all human succour. They had no knowledge of the language necessary for the proof of their innocence and had no interpreter other than their betrayer, who fearing to appear in league with them, was able to twist their replies to his own advantage. Their fears were justified by the result. Their defence was badly put, and the Viceroy, in an access of rage, as he had not understood the case, condemned them to death.

Their arms were bound with cords and they were dragged a short distance and prostrated before the seat of the Viceroy. Their fetters were taken off and they thought that they were about to be set at liberty. But suddenly they were surrounded by armed men, who, spear in hand, awaited the signal for their death. Their calmness seemed to bid defiance to their executioners.

A savage soldier thrust his lance several times near the breast of M.
Alari and said, "Say where your money is hidden or I will stab you."

The saintly man quietly replied that he had none. His companion, when questioned made the same answer. The Viceroy fearing lest the secret of their treasure should be buried with them in the tomb, attempted to wring it from them by torture. At the word of command, a soldier seized a cudgel about seven or eight feet long and thick in proportion.

The missionaries lying face downwards on the ground were expecting death any moment. A stalwart ruffian approached and laid on several blows with the cudgel with his utmost strength.

Their bodies were streaming with blood and they were left for several hours on the spot exposed to the burning rays of the sun which rendered their wounds more painful. The irritation caused by insects eating their flesh and sucking their blood caused new torments, and they were surrounded by armed executioners ready to put an end to their existence.

The Viceroy was astonished at their fortitude, and was convinced that men who held earthly possessions of so little value could not be attracted by the desire of wealth. He made a sign to the interpreter who had treated them so badly and had them raised from the ground. They partook of some food that the other Christians had prepared for them, and, for a long time endured the most acute sufferings.

Jeanchi overcome with shame was unable to conceal the state of his feelings.

The missionaries were convinced that he was repenting of what he had done, and exhorted the Christians not to reproach him. He continued to reside with the flock whose shepherds he had wished to destroy. The Missionaries were transferred to a filthy hovel exposed to the inclemency of the weather. The night-dews and the bad food hindered the recovery of their strength.

Mamasadech, always kind-hearted, and a philanthropist before everything, offered them the use of his ship that was anchored a few leagues distant. Here their health was restored and they had the pleasure of seeing the arrival of the Christians who found a haven on the waters, free from the unpleasant conditions they had fled from on land. A few days after they set sail for Rangoon, the seaport of the Kingdom of Ava.

The Burmese army engaged in pillage, rather than in conquest, made away with the property of the conquered. When they had taken all that was to be had, they sought a new prey. The leader in the flush of his initial successes was sure of easy victories. He marched against Ayuthia, as he considered that if the capital fell, the other towns would submit without much difficulty.

The route lay across vast forests and over steep mountains. All these obstacles had been foreseen and provided for. The provinces situated to the north west of the capital were laid waste and the inhabitants through fear of death or slavery fled to the forests, where they had to contend against wild beasts for their existence. The burning towns and villages threw the capital into a state of panic. The Siamese threatened with utter ruin, massed their forces and marched in fear against an enemy of whose courage they had had experience so many times. They ventured on a battle, and fought with greater courage than they were wont to exhibit. A crushing defeat was inflicted on them which left the whole country at the mercy of the invader.

The country side, ravaged by fire, had nothing to show better than barren cinders, and the impending famine was a prospect as terrible as the sword of the barbarians.

While the victorious army spread desolation on every side, a fresh horde of barbarians overran the country. The Burmese, meeting with no resistance, occupied the province as conquerors and everywhere left traces of their ravages. They built a town at the junction of two rivers and named it Michong. This position was intended to act as a base of operations in case of defeat.

During these troublous times, the King of Siam, shut up in his harem, made light of his people's woes. The news that the enemy had evacuated Tennasserim and Mergui had given rise to the belief that the danger had passed, and that the State would require no defenders. At last the Burmese appeared before the city gates, and there was hardly a ghost of an army to oppose them. At the tumult caused by the entrance of bands of peasants seeking refuge in the royal city, the King was awakened from his state of lethargy. The refugees were obliged to assist in the repair of the fortifications of the town. Mounds forty feet high were built for artillery of position. The Christians refused to assist in this work, as they were certain that these mounds would crumble by their own weight.

The Bishop of Tabraca who had foreseen the danger and who could have escaped it, considered that the town was a post to which he had been assigned, and which he could not desert without betraying his trust. But although fearless of personal danger, he considered that it was his duty to take steps for the safety of the young people confided to his care. Thirty young pupils were sent to M. M. Kcherve and Artaud who took this little band into the eastern part of Siam, whence it was easy to retreat further in case of necessity. It was lucky for them that they had been able to effect a speedy departure, for, a few days later, orders were issued forbidding any one from leaving the city.

The enemy, before commencing the assault on the city, laid waste the surrounding country. They were certain of finding means of subsistance on the land they had recently seized, and, their policy of destruction was in order to compel the submission of the Siamese through famine. One of their parties extended its ravages up to the city gates. Bangkok, a fortress which had been defended, was destroyed, and the gardens laid waste. A college established by the Missionaries in the vicinity was razed to the ground, and, after this attack, they retreated hurriedly to join the main part of the army and their departure caused a momentary suspension of hostilities.

At this juncture, two English ships arrived. The captain presented the King with an Arab horse, a lion, and some valuable merchandise. The captain whose name was Pauni, had on several occasions proved himself a brave man. The King who had more confidence in his courage and his ability than in his cowardly and effeminate followers begged him to take charge of the defence of the city.

But the Englishman, convinced that a craven race would prove but poor seconds, declined the honour of the post and the example of the Dutch, who had retired, strengthened his decision not to accept it.

The Dutch would not have abandoned their compound in which they had stored much valuable property, had they believed that the Siamese were capable of assisting in the common defence.

The captain was uncertain how to act, when suddenly he found himself the object of an attack by the Burmese, who having captured Bangkok were preparing to bombard him.

The brave Englishman, too weak to offer a defence and too high spirited to surrender, wisely decided to tow his ships to the spot which the Burmese were attempting to fortify. His artillery fire destroyed their position and scattered death broadcast in their ranks. The Englishmen protected by their guns were able to bid defiance to the Burmese attack. Their pride was wounded by remaining quiet on ship-board, and, eager to punish their assailants, they made several sorties, and their well planned attacks on the undisciplined foe, caused wholesale slaughter.

Pauni, compelled by necessity, agreed to take charge of the defence of the capital on condition that the requisite arms and ammunition for attack and defence were forthcoming. This was agreed to, and the Siamese, as a pledge of his good faith, stipulated that he should deposit his cargo in the public arsenal. This condition was galling to him, but he was obliged to agree to it. He delivered thirty eight bales of valuable merchandize and placed the rest on different ships. Having made arrangements with the officials, he returned to his ship where he made preparations that justified the trust reposed in him. He devised attacks, all of which were deadly to the foe. Their fortifications were scarcely completed, when they were demolished, and every day saw the defeat or repulse of the enemy. In order to follow up his advantages, he wrote to the Siamese authorities demanding arms and ammunition as his supply was running short, but he was refused.

The Siamese feared lest he should become too powerful; or that they might be ruled by a foreigner. The ministers replied that the enemy were about to make an assault on the other side of the town and that they needed all their available artillery to repel it.

The Englishman, annoyed by this act of faithlessness, determined to have no further dealings with a nation that neither knew how to fight nor to furnish one who was then friend with the wherewithal to protect them. But before setting sail he issued a manifesto against the King of Siam giving his reasons for deserting his post. He seized six Chinese ships of which one belonged to the King. The five other vessels coming to trade with Siam, were stopped in the gulf, and were considerably surprised to find themselves despoiled of their goods. The Englishman, in return for what he had taken, gave the captains bills of exchange drawn on the King of Siam to the value of the thirty eight bales of goods that he had deposited. Having thus taken his security and passed proudly before his foes who instead of being downcast at his retirement, were highly delighted to behold the departure of a rival who alone could hinder their success.

The Burmese, on his departure, again took the offensive and as they had merely feeble adversaries to consider, destroyed everything they could find. The temples were burnt and the lead found there was made into bullets. The enemy, for a considerable time master of the countryside, had issued strict orders that no cultivation was to be carried on. But the fertility of the soil caused an abundant crop that was not due to agricultural labours. The grains of rice fallen from the hands of the reapers of the previous year grew and came to maturity. This unexpected blessing was a great consolation for the people threatened with famine. But this, which should have been to their advantage, was considerably the reverse. The inhabitants went out to gather the rice, but were surprised by the Burmese, who led them captive to their camp.

While the Burmese, scattered over all the provinces, were carrying on a war against men and nature, the King and his superstitious ministers put all their trust in their magicians. The officers and soldiers followed their example and consulted them as to how they might render themselves invisible in order to attack the enemy unawares, and the hope of learning a secret so favourable to their cowardly nature, prevented them from going out to fight before it had been revealed to them.

The delusion was so powerful that even experience was unable to convince them of the futility of such schemes.

The leaders, on a par with the subordinates as regards valour, appeared to have taken up arms against their fellow citizens only. They robbed them of their money and food with the excuse that they were required for use of the military to whom they distributed the least valuable part of their spoil, but this bounty was merely to cloak their own extortions. Whilst the more wealthy citizens were being ruined, the vigilance of the missionaries foresaw the destitution of the Christians, but their liberality, extended without exception to all creeds, exhausted their supplies. The Burmese intercepted all their convoys and they themselves were in danger of famine owing to the excess of their ravages. The forces sent against them were invariably dispersed and frequently returned without striking a blow.

A Siamese Prince who had been exiled to Ceylon, was deeply moved at the misfortunes of his country. He forget the fact that he was an offender. He was powerful enough to raise an army whose services he offered to those who had driven him forth.

The Siamese court, too proud to accept assistance from an exile, rejected his offer with scorn, and instead of considering him as a defender of their country, they sent expeditions against him with varying success.

This course was highly unwise as it caused dissension in the army just at the time when the Burmese ranks were being augmented by numerous Siamese deserters.

In the month of March the Burmese army had advanced to within two leagues of the town. The progress of the army was arrested by the death of the commander from quinsy. It was considered expedient to conceal the fact of his death from the soldiery, but the news leaked out owing to dissensions among the chiefs who all were ambitious of command.

But soon reunited by the prospect of loot, they advanced to plunder the richest and most celebrated temple near the city.

They were in hopes of finding the base of the image which was of solid gold, but the King of Siam had taken the precaution of having this object of popular worship removed to the palace.

The Burmese, incensed on finding that their booty had been carried off, revenged themselves by pulling down the temple and constructing a building devoted to profane uses on the site. The other pagodas in the vicinity of the town were not spared. They were built of brick and surrounded by ditches which seemed to protect them against the assaults of the enemy. The Christian churches were constructed merely of planks and stakes which acted as fuel to the flames. But in spite of their defenceless condition, they were held by the vigilance and courage of their defenders, and the enemy were unable to set foot in them until after the Chinese and Siamese had experienced several defeats.

On September 7th, 1766, the enemy seized a strong position about a quarter of a league distant from the town, and from this point a park of artillery commanded the shore and thus rendered them masters of the river.

The danger became more imminent and the Christians whose heroic valour had been proved in the former revolution became the last resource.

The defence of the bastions was entrusted to them and they were supplied with thirty pieces of artillery and ammunition for the same. Six thousand Chinese were appointed to defend the Dutch compound and large temple in the immediate neighbourhood, and, as a special favour they were presented with the sum of ten thousand livres.

Among the Christians were eighty soldiers available for the defence of various posts exposed to the assaults of the enemy.

This brave array had had no military training whatever, and, gun and sword in hand, they would have been objects of laughter to a European soldier.

But in spite of their awkwardness, they formed the flower of the Siamese army. The first few days were occupied in skirmishes, shortly afterwards but the enemy united their forces and seized five large temples which became so many fortresses from whence they bombarded the outposts and especially the Church of St. Joseph, the roof of which was riddled without causing any casualties.

On the 8th of December it was reported that the Burmese were preparing for a fresh assault. The Christians made sorties from the church and at the sound of drums and trumpets engaged the enemy to the discomfiture of the latter as they were conquered by fear rather than by arms. This initial victory inspired them to take the offensive. They made an attack on some Burmese entrenched in a pagoda and returned with an elephant as a trophy of their victory.

The Portuguese, at a distance of about two leagues from the dwelling of the Bishop of Tabraca, gave also signal proof of their courage. They sabred a crowd of Burmese who had attempted to storm their college. The Burmese, driven back in confusion, retired full of admiration for the handful of Christians whom they feared considerably more than the 50,000 Siamese who had neither the daring to make an attack nor the courage to follow up their retreat.

Although the Christians showed greater personal valour than the rest, their lack of military training caused the loss of the French quarter. The pickets were sound asleep when the Burmese fired the upper part of the building where the Bishop lived. The Christians crowded into the church for shelter and the shrieks of the women and children gave indications of danger more terrible in the darkness.

A Christian who had become separated from his friends was massacred on the spot. The others made a stubborn defence, and although they had been taken by surprise, they appeared to be invincible. The enemy, repulsed on all sides, made an attack on the Dutch quarter. The reputation of the bravery exhibited by the Dutch had attracted many Siamese and Chinese to their quarter, thinking that they would be safe there. All assisted in the common defence. They built walls of the remains of the destroyed pyramids. The Chinese found a quantity of money there but the Christians received only some pieces of lead as their share.

The Siamese authorities had abused their power by the confiscation of quantities of rice which had been seized to ensure themselves against the threatened famine, and, owing to their thought for the evils of the future, were a prey to the evils of the present. Food was unobtainable at any price, and the poor people awaited death to put an end to their sufferings. An epidemic more deadly still caused fresh ravages. The streets and public places were strewn with corpses, which were devoured by ravenous pariahs, as the fear of contagion had prevented their burial. This scourge came only to an end with the ruin of the country. The sentinels let themselves down from the walls by ropes and preferred to risk falling into the hands of the enemy than to await a lingering death in the midst of suffering.

The Burmese turned their arms against the Dutch compound, which was defended by the Portuguese and Chinese. The attack was fierce and the defence, stubborn. But finally the compound was taken and reduced to ashes after an eight days' siege marked by many casualties. The church was respected for two or three days and the missionaries were able to collect together their property.

This show of moderation was merely a trick to force the surrender of the Bishop and his flock. The Burmese leader was unwilling to shed blood to no purpose. He assured him that if he would surrender, all his property would be respected and that only the weapons would be taken.

Negociations were started, and the Bishop went in person to the Burmese leader's hut. He was received with every mark of honour and the general was lavish in promises which however were not confirmed by any documents. He added that it was his intention that night to fire the Christian quarter as a warning to them to seek refuge elsewhere. He assigned a temple to the Bishop for a dwelling place and guards were given for his safe keeping. Nothing could be done but to submit to these conditions as it was impossible to obtain any better terms.

It was lucky that these conditions were accepted. The general carried out his threat and the whole of the Christian quarter was reduced to ashes together with the church.

The soldiers entered the seminary, and violating their oaths, plundered everything that they had promised to respect.

The missionaries and their converts were carried off to the hostile camp. A Prince of the old family of the King of Ava was the commander of the camp to which they were assigned, and he had the generosity to supply them with victuals. A large number of female Christians were stationed near them so as to escape the insults of the soldiery. Advantage was taken of the absence of their importunate guardians to marry the girls to the young Christians as it was necessary to save these virgins from the lust of the brutal soldiery who, as I have said previously, respected the marriage tie. The Bishop suspected of possessing great wealth, as he had distributed alms with no niggard hand, was sent to the lofty tower occupied by the general where under the pretext of rendering him honour they thought they would be able to discover the place where he had concealed his treasures. The other Christians were tortured and robbed of their money and the more money a man had, the more he was suspected of having concealed. The state of poverty to which they were thus reduced rendered their faith all the more lively, and, despoiled of their earthly possessions their only hope lay in a heavenly reward.

The town, ready to fall into the hands of the Burmese, would have been buried under its ruins had not a parley been arranged in order to treat with the besiegers, already with torches in their hands. The Burmese proud of their superiority replied that they demanded unconditional surrender and that they were determined to take advantage of the rights of the conquerors.

These harsh terms were rejected and hostilities recommenced.

On the 28th April 1767 the town was captured by assault. The treasures of the palace and the temples were nothing but heaps of ruins and ashes. The images of the gods were melted down and rage deprived the barbarian conquerors of the spoils that had aroused their greed. To avenge this loss, the Burmese visited their heavy displeasure upon the towns folk. They burnt the soles of their feet in order to make them reveal where they had concealed their wealth, and raped their weeping daughters before their very eyes.

The priests suspected of having concealed much wealth were pierced through and through with arrows and spears and several were beaten to death with heavy clubs.

The country side as well as the temples were strewn with corpses, and the river was choked with the bodies of the dead, the stench of which attracted swarms of flies causing much annoyance to the retreating army. The chief officers of state and the royal favourites were loaded with chains and condemned to slavery in the galleys. The King, witness of the unhappy fate of his court endeavoured to escape, but he was recognised and slain at the gates of the palace.

The Priest King, torn from the silence of his retreat, was taken prisoner together with all the Royal family, and, all, through fear of torture confessed that they had much wealth concealed. When the greed of the invaders was satisfied and the country was full of dead and dying, the the victorious army set out for Pegu. The King of Siam was taken with them. The Bishop of Tabraca was included in the national disaster and was transported on shipboard. The detachment in charge of him was commanded by a man who was by no means a barbarian.

His valour gained for him the governorship of Tavoy, a position of trust which justified the discernment of his master.