It proved only a temporary farewell, for I often met him again in his cruises, smoking with him the pipe of peace and enjoying a certain dish which he knew how to prepare secundum artem.
CHAPTER IX.
PROME.
“A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel!
Oh wise young judge, how I do honour thee!”
Uninviting as may have been the immediate surroundings of the last place, few stations could vie with Prome in all that was picturesque. Situated on the left bank of the river, it consisted of a limited and undulating tract of country, covered with fine trees, from the branches of which hung beautiful creepers in graceful festoons; shrubs and undergrowths also grew thickly among the timber. The Burmese must, in selecting the spot, have had an eye to that which nature had already rendered beautiful; they then improved upon it according to the canons of native art—not by any means for the benefit of “οἱ πολλοί,” but as a sylvan retreat, wherein priest and monks could lead a purely isolated and ascetic life, away from the busy haunts of men, with every facility for contemplation and with as few hindrances as possible on the main road to “Nirvana.” Judging from the size and number of the Pon-gyee houses, one would imagine that the religious fraternity must have mustered there in great numbers, ere the spoiler turned them out and appropriated their sacred dwelling to his own sacrilegious uses. All is fair in war; these elegant edifices of teak, built on piles along either side of the main road, and now converted into residences and mess-houses, had, but a few years since, presented a picture that would have evoked ecstasies from an artist. There, shaded by the luxurious foliage of the tamarind, dwelt the original occupants, some reading, others sitting cross-legged in emulation of their master, a few, maybe, imparting to the young the doctrines of their wondrous religion.
Then, everything suggested peace and harmony; now, alas! the bugle is for ever resounding with its periodical “Puddings and pies for officers’ wives;” whereat the officers would assemble alone, for their wives—poor “grass-widows!”—were far away.
Facing the river to the right were blocks of hastily constructed dwellings for all sorts and conditions of men, necessary adjuncts to a large force, which had to be lodged, fed and clothed; and some way behind these came the “Sepoy lines.” To the left, well intrenched and guarded, lay the Commissariat Stores, on which so much depends when once the dogs of war are let loose. All men, irrespective of race or colour, fight, as did Napoleon’s soldiers, “on their stomachs;” but it is the European element which so taxes the hard-worked officials of the Commissariat department; they must have their daily rations of meat, bread, porter, tea, sugar and condiments, besides every kind of comfort, when lying sick or wounded. And when I assert that the Indian Commissariat department was second to none in the world for efficiency, organization and uprightness, I know no one can contradict me. Presiding over this essential adjunct at Prome was a man who, to the regret of all who knew him, died in India some years afterwards, and we shall perhaps never look on his like again.
The Burmese quarter of the town was still further to the left, occupying more level ground and of considerable extent. Many of the native buildings were on a grander scale than those usually met with, bamboo being discarded in lieu of teak.
In the midst of them we naturally constructed a prison, near which soon sprang up that emblem of civilization, the gallows; but I am happy to put it on record that, during my tenure of office in a medical capacity, it was never once used. Neither—to the credit of the Burmese, be it said—were there many candidates for the gaol, though I never shall forget the amazement of the few at such an unintelligible mode of punishment.
Of all the people I ever came across, I should consider the Burmese the least capable of bearing such restraint; they were so independent, so fond of freedom, air and exercise. With our egotistic proclivities and insular pride, we are but too prone to pounce down upon a conquered country and force upon them there and then our own laws and notions of the fitness of things, utterly regardless of the material with which we have to deal, and ignoring the impossibility of moulding it all at once to our own complicated judicial system.