The Pacification of Burma

by C. H. T. Crosthwaite

In this pleasant place came a further letter to the leaders of the expedition from Kansi Naung, saying that he had given orders that the English should be treated well, and promising to come himself with presents.

Next day, however, brought only disappointment. A letter came from Kansi Naung saying that illness prevented him from keeping his promise. Other signs indicated that all was not right, and Shwè Gya, who had been hopeful hitherto, lost heart. The military leaders were for good reasons in favour of immediate action. Major Adamson, however, took the responsibility of giving Kansi Naung more time, and wrote to him peremptorily, saying that they could not wait, and that he must come in. On the 8th of February news came that Kansi Naung was at a village on the opposite side of the river, not a mile off. Shwè Gya was asked to go across to see him. But he declined, saying that he knew Kachins were on his track to murder him.[47] From two men who came across from the Sawbwa's camp, one of whom Major Adamson had met in Mogaung, it was learnt that emissaries from Po Saw had arrived, and were urging the Kachin chief not to visit the British.

The right course was now clear. Adamson told the men publicly to go back to Kansi Naung and tell him that if he did not appear before ten o'clock next day the column would advance to the jade-mines by force if necessary. Later in the day the polyglot and polygamous interpreter, Safdar Ali, volunteered to go to the Kachin camp to see if he could influence the Kachins, or at any rate find out what was in their minds. His offer was accepted. At the same time all was made ready for a fight. Next day (February 9th) Safdar Ali returned with a message from Kansi Naung that the Sawbwa would come, but that ten o'clock was too early for him.

Captain Triscott fixed the advancing or attacking force at one hundred rifles and one gun; the rest were not more than sufficient to defend the camp. The numbers of possible enemies might be large, and if the advance was opposed the camp also would probably be assailed. By nine o'clock the men had fallen in and were waiting for the order to march, when a large party appeared on the opposite side of the river. The leading man carried a fine pair of elephant tusks. It was evidently a friendly visit, and proved to be Kansi Naung with twelve other chiefs. The troops drawn up for a hostile advance were at once turned into a guard of honour. The military and civil leaders sat in chairs in front of the hut in which they had sheltered, and the Kachin Sawbwas on their arrival were seated on the ground in front of them. The tusks were presented and all the chiefs made their submission. Major Adamson assured them, Shwè Gya interpreting, that the British Government would respect their rights in the mines. They were warned against listening to Po Saw, who had been dismissed from the British service. Presents were given to each of them, and they were dismissed.

On their departure the troops immediately fell in and started for the jade-mines, which were reached after an uneventful march on a rough forest path, which rose to an altitude of fifteen hundred feet. There was not much to see. "A collection of about fifty houses and what appeared to be a large quarry, while all over the place were blocks of white stone of all sizes, some of which were tinged or streaked with green." The main object of the expedition, to obtain the submission of the Kachin chiefs and assert the authority of the Government and its right to the revenue from the mines, had been attained. As no water was to be had, and there were no rations for the men, the force, after a short rest, marched back to camp. Everything had gone well during their absence from the camp. But disquieting letters had come from Mogaung, telling of a Kachin assault on the stockade.

It remained now to explore the Indaw country. Taking only a small party from the camp, Adamson went in boats up the Indaw River to the lake, a very fine piece of water, about sixteen miles long from north to south by six broad. He found the country round it to be naturally fertile and bearing marks of much former prosperity. But it had been the scene of the Kachin rebellion of 1883, which had its rising here, and here also the rebels had made their last stand. It had been devastated with all the ruthlessness of an Asiatic conqueror. It bore the marks of recent prosperity and a thick population. Good roads still united the ruined villages; nearly every little stream was crossed by solid teak bridges; sites of old villages still showed gardens of mango, jack, tamarind, and other fruit trees growing amongst monasteries and pagodas all absolutely deserted, amidst great stretches of splendid rice plains showing signs of recent cultivation. Yet only one small patch of land, about ten acres under tillage, and only in a few places some poor huts which, surrounded by double and treble stockades, showed the conditions under which the few surviving peasants lived.

It was hoped that with unlimited rice plains, a magnificent lake swarming with fish, a Government that would enforce peace, with open water communications and in the near future a railroad, this beautiful country would recover prosperity. All that can be said after a generation has passed is that "it is only beginning to recover from the devastation caused by the Kachin rising of 1883" (Burma Gazetteer, vol ii., p. 120, edit. 1908). So much easier is it to destroy than to restore.

The Indawgyi country being now explored, the party rejoined the main body at the Sakaw camp, and the force set out on its return march to Mogaung. They had left Mogaung on the 27th of January, and had marched for four weeks through jungles and marshes most favourable to a savage enemy skilled in ambuscade. Yet not a shot had been fired. Po Saw, however, had been busy with the Kachins. Mogaung had been attacked on the 3rd of February, and the report of this had reached Major Adamson. They were prepared, therefore, for hostilities, and before they reached Mogaung, on the 24th of February, they were attacked and lost several men.

The state of affairs at Mogaung was not very reassuring. The people were in much alarm. Women and children were sleeping in the boats. The road was unsafe, and communication with the Irrawaddy was interrupted. The last boats, four in number, which left the town with the mails and some prisoners under a guard, had been fired on by Kachins; and a boatman and one of the Gurkha police were hit. No Chinese boat had ventured up the river for three weeks. The resident Chinese were putting their temple in order of defence, and every one expected that there would be fighting.