The Dutch, however, were enabled, after successive conflicts during a series of years, in which thousands of their countrymen perished, to complete the belt that now encircles the King of Candy's territories, and wholly to exclude him from the sea-coast.
Their last war of any importance was in 1763, when they attacked Candy with an army of upwards of 8,000 men, composed of Europeans, Sepoys from their possessions on the coasts of Coromandel and Malabar, and Malays from Batavia. The latter are more dreaded by the natives even than European troops. The Dutch, with little opposition, got possession of the enemy's capital, in which they maintained themselves for upwards of nine months, with the loss of nearly half their force. After having suffered almost every privation, their provisions being nearly exhausted, and all communication with their settlements on the coast cut off for three months, the officer on whom the command had devolved (Major Frankana), who appears to have done everything that could be expected from a brave and experienced officer, called a council of war, in which it was determined, after much debating, as the only means of preserving the wreck of the army from utter destruction, immediately to abandon the place, and to force their way to Columbo.
The army was pursued by the Candians, who, fortunately not being aware of the intended retreat, had not time to block up the roads. They, however, harassed them by every means in their power, and instantly put to death those who had the misfortune to drop in the rear.
The invalids, who were unable to keep up with the line, were collected in churches by the commanding officer of the retreating army, and labels imploring for mercy were in vain placed round their necks. The moment the Candians came up with them, they were cruelly butchered. The survivors at length reached Columbo, exhausted with hunger and fatigue.
In 1796 the Dutch, after having been in possession of the country 143 years, were in their turn expelled by the English, aided by the Candians, whose policy it is invariably to join the invading army.
That the dangers and difficulties of war in Candy have by no means diminished since Ceylon fell into our hands, will hereafter fully appear from the mode of conducting our expeditions, and their unfavourable results. The want of supplies in the interior renders it indispensable for an invading army to carry provisions, as well as stores, along with it. The carriage of doolies, or litters for the sick and wounded, and camp equipage, also requires the addition of an almost incredible number of followers. It has been found that, at the lowest computation, a detachment properly equipped requires, even for the short period of fifteen days, at the rate of four Coolies for each soldier; so that, for a detachment of 600 men, the followers alone will amount to 2,400, requiring daily provision for 3,000 mouths.
The Coolies have the utmost aversion to a Candian campaign; to collect any number of them is consequently attended with difficulties and delay, and it can only be done by pressing. The instant it is known in any of the districts that the native chief has received orders to seize, as they not improperly term it, a certain number of Coolies, the villages are deserted by the lower class of the inhabitants, who, to avoid the police-officers, either conceal themselves in the forests, or take refuge in the Candian territories. After considerable delays, the chief seldom succeeds in procuring above half the number required; and thus the advantages which we seem at first sight to enjoy over the enemy, of having always a considerable disciplined force, ready to march at a moment's notice, are completely lost, from the impossibility of any prompt movement.
By the flight of the Coolies, intimation of our design is soon conveyed to the Candian government, and the necessary orders immediately issued for calling out the inhabitants, which orders are punctually complied with, as well from the dread of the punishment of disobedience, as from the people being interested in the defence of their country. Long before our detachments can be equipped, the enemy is arrayed in force ready to receive them.
The aversion of the natives to serve as Coolies in our armies is founded on very obvious reasons. The burdens which they are obliged to carry are heavy, and their progress consequently slow. They are frequently exposed to a galling fire, doubtful of being taken care of, if wounded, and certain of being put to death if made prisoners; their post is more dangerous than that of the fighting part of the army; while they are not, like the soldiers, buoyed up by the prospect of any military advantage or preferment, or excited by the stimulus of fame.
It cannot, therefore, be surprising that the Cingalese, naturally timid, and rendered indolent by their climate and mode of living, should use every effort in their power to avoid being impressed on such a service, or that they should, when forced into it, afterwards desert. This is a frequent occurrence, and is often attended with serious consequences. They are also apt, without any intention of escaping from the army, when unexpectedly attacked, from the mere impulse of fear, to throw down their loads, and rush into the woods to conceal themselves. This is a practice which neither threats nor entreaties can check; but their design being simply to elude the danger of the moment, their head man generally succeeds in rallying them as soon as the firing ceases. This dispersion of the Coolies for a time entirely stops the line of march, as it would be impossible to move forward without them, but by abandoning the sick, the wounded, and the stores to the enemy.