Forty-one years in India: from subaltern to commander-in-chief

by Earl Frederick Sleigh Roberts Roberts

Sir Charles Bernard (the Chief Commissioner) and General White had done well under very difficult circumstances; but owing partly to large districts being impassable from months of heavy rain, and partly to the change in Commanders, unavoidable inaction had been forced upon our troops, and the dacoits had in consequence made head against us.

Having been in constant correspondence with General White, I had been kept informed of his plans, and, as his responsible Chief, I had approved of them; I therefore had the somewhat complicated military situation at my fingers' ends, and did not need to lose a single day in arranging for a series of combined movements being carried on all over the country.

It was hoped that the recently arrived reinforcements would be sufficient for all requirements, but it soon became apparent that the difficulties connected with the pacification of Burma had been under-rated, and that, in addition to more troops, an efficient civil administration would have to be provided, to take the place of military authority so soon as anything like organized resistance had been crushed; for to deal with ordinary robbers I conceived to be work more suited to police than to soldiers. Upwards of thirty years' experience had proved that the Burmese could not be relied upon for this kind of service; I therefore recommended that a large body of police should be raised in India without delay, and given a semi-military organization, and in the meantime I asked for, and was given, five additional regiments.

Measures recommended I felt very confident of success, for I had taken great care in the selection of the brigade commanders and staff officers, and I knew the troops could be depended upon in any emergency that was likely to arise. Nevertheless, as the work they would have to perform was of rather an unusual character, irksome as well as difficult, I thought it advisable to issue some general instructions for the guidance of the officers in command of the different [columns].[³] These instructions 1887 were carried out so intelligently, and the troops did such good service, especially a very fine body of Mounted Infantry raised and organized by Major Symons, of the South Wales Borderers, that before I returned to India in February, 1887, I was able to report that the country was gradually becoming quiet and the Burmese reconciled to our rule. Most of the principal dacoit leaders had been killed or captured, and villages which had been in their hands for months were being reoccupied by their legitimate inhabitants; caravans were coming into Mandalay almost daily from districts on the Chinese borders; contracts for making roads were readily taken up, and there was no difficulty in obtaining labour for the railway then being constructed between Lower Burma and Mandalay, the first sod of which was turned within a month of my arrival at that place.

The Buddhist priesthood In achieving these satisfactory results I was materially aided by the hearty co-operation of Sir Charles Bernard and the civil officers serving under him; while the entire absence of fanaticism amongst the Burmese, and their cheerful, happy natures, facilitated our intercourse with them. I received, besides, most valuable assistance from the Buddhist Poonghies, or monks, with many of whom I made friends. From the fact that education, secular and religious, is imparted by these monks, and that every male, from the King to the humblest peasant, was obliged to enter a monastery and wear the saffron garb of a monk for a certain period, the priesthood had enormous influence with the Burmese. There are no hereditary Chiefs or Nobles in Burma, the Poonghies being the advisers of the people and the centre round which Native society revolves.

Our occupation of Upper Burma was necessarily a great blow to the Buddhist priesthood, for many of the [monasteries][⁴] were kept up entirely by the King, Queen, and Ministers of State; and, as it was most advisable to have the influence of the monks in our favour, I recommended that a monthly stipend should be paid to the Archbishop and two senior Bishops of Mandalay. They showed their gratitude by doing all they could to help me, and when I was leaving the country the old Thathanabain (Archbishop) accompanied me as far as Rangoon. We corresponded till his death, and I still hear occasionally from one or other of my Poonghie friends.

I remained only a short time in Calcutta on my return to India, and then started off again for the North-West Frontier, in company with General Chesney, who had previously expressed his general concurrence in my defence proposals, but was anxious to see the several positions and judge for himself, from an Engineer's point of view, of their suitability to be treated as I suggested. It was a great source of contentment to me to find that the sites chosen and the style of entrenchments I had advocated commended themselves to my expert companion.

Simla was more than usually gay during the summer of 1887, in consequence of the numerous entertainments given in celebration of Her Majesty's Jubilee. We had just added a ballroom to 'Snowdon,' and we inaugurated its opening by a fancy ball on the 21st June, in honour of the auspicious anniversary.

The Regimental Institute My name appeared in the Jubilee Gazette as having been given the Grand Cross of the Indian Empire, but what I valued still more was the acceptance by the Government of India of my strong recommendation for the establishment of a Club or Institute in every British regiment and battery in India. In urging that this measure should be favourably considered, I had said that the British Army in India could have no better or more generally beneficial memorial of the Queen's Jubilee than the abolition of that relic of barbarism, the canteen, and its supersession by an Institute, in which the soldier would have under the same roof a reading-room, recreation room, and a decently-managed refreshment-room.