The command of the expedition was entrusted to Colonel Horace Browne, of the Burmese Commission; the post of geographer was filled by Mr. Ney Elias, whose successful and intrepid journey through Mongolia and survey of the Yellow River had won for him the Gold Medal of the Royal Geographical Society of London; and the remaining scientific duties of medical officer and naturalist were entrusted to myself.
In November 1874, Mr. Elias, who was then Assistant Resident at Mandalay, was commissioned to proceed to Bhamô, there to concert with the Resident measures for providing carriage so as to avoid delay. He accordingly visited the Kakhyens holding the route selected, and made a contract with their chiefs for the conveyance and convoy of the mission.
The expedition was appointed to leave Burma in January 1875, in order to accomplish the passage of the hill country before the setting in of the rainy season. As it was possible that Mr. Margary, who left Shanghai on September 4th, might not be able to reach Momien in time, Mr. Allan, of the Chinese consular service, was sent by sea to Rangoon to accompany the mission, and facilitate our intercourse with the Chinese authorities. The preparations for ensuring the success of the mission were thus rendered as complete as foresight could make them. The respective governments of Burma and China had been fully informed of the nature and purposes of the expedition, and had both given to our diplomatic representatives their full consent and promises of safe conduct. The personal goodwill of the border chiefs and mandarins was expected to be conciliated, in the same degree as their official co-operation had been secured by the passports furnished from Pekin; and although there was an element of uncertainty arising from the possible jealousy of the border Chinese and the plundering habits of lawless factions among the Kakhyens, the precautions taken might be well considered as enough to ensure success.
CHAPTER XIII.
SECOND EXPEDITION.
Start of mission—Arrival at Mandalay—The Burmese pooay—Posturing girl—Reception by the meng-gyees—Audience by the king—Departure of mission—Progress up the river—Reception at Bhamô—British Residency—Mr. Margary—Account of his journey—The Woon of Bhamô—Entertains Margary—Chinese puppets—Selection of route—Sawady route—Bullock carriage—Woon of Shuaygoo—Chinese surmises—Letters to Chinese officials—Burmese worship-day.
In November 1874, Colonel Browne and myself arrived at Calcutta, having left England on receipt of telegraphic instructions in the preceding month. A short time was devoted to the purchase and preparation of the various articles intended as presents; while the necessary equipment of scientific instruments was completed under the personal supervision of Colonel Gastrell, of the Surveyor-General’s office, and nothing was spared by this well-known officer to make the fullest provision for all scientific purposes. Fifteen picked men were selected from a Calcutta regiment of Sikhs to form the guard, and all being thus ready, we proceeded to Rangoon, and thence, in the Ashley Eden steamer, began our journey up the Irawady on December 12th.
At Prome we picked up a Chinese named Li-kan-shin, who proved to be a nephew of Li-sieh-tai. He had been driven from his abode at Hawshuenshan by the Panthays, and had lived at Prome, where he bore the Burmese name of Moung Yoh. He now wished to return to Yunnan to visit his mother; as he spoke Burmese fluently, in addition to writing and speaking Chinese, he was taken into the service of the mission as an interpreter. At first he hesitated, fearing to be punished for bringing foreigners into Yunnan, but a sight of the imperial passport removed all his scruples.
We arrived at Mandalay in the evening of December 23rd, 1874, and were received on landing by officials sent from the palace with royal elephants to carry us up to the Residency. Very different was the reception accorded to the members of this mission from the apparent neglect which had seemed to ignore our existence when on the expedition of 1868. All the marks of honour that are usually conferred on distinguished visitors were duly paid. Silver dishes loaded with dainties were sent from the palace, and we were declared to be the king’s guests, not only at the capital, but until we should have passed his frontiers, and have been safely handed over to the Chinese. For our delectation, also, the royal corps dramatique appeared to perform a pooay, or play, the most favourite amusement of the Burmese, even to the very youngest, who will sit for hours, and night after night, listening to the adventures of the royal heroes and heroines, and enjoying the jokes which are freely interspersed. The performance takes place under an open pavilion of bamboos erected for the occasion. There is no stage, but a circular space covered with mats is reserved for the performers, and the audience squat around the edge of the matted portion. The only indication of scenery is a tree set up in the centre to do duty for the forest, in which the scene of all Burmese dramas is laid. By this tree a huge faggot is placed and a large vessel of oil, and the blazing flame, fed from time to time with oil poured over it, illuminates the performance with a lurid light, which gives a fantastic appearance to the figures. A portion of the circle is reserved for the orchestra, the leader taking his place inside a hollow cylinder hung round with drums and cymbals, while the lesser musicians group themselves around the noisy centre. No permanent theatre exists even in the capital, nor are the performers paid by the audience. It is the custom for those who desire on any particular occasion to “give a pooay” to engage one of the various troupes of players, for whom a pavilion is extemporised opposite the house, while the public form regular rows around, and enjoy the gratuitous spectacle. Such an enclosure was set up in the Residency compound. The first intimation of the coming pooay was the early arrival of the orchestra some hours before the performance was to commence, making their presence known by a noisy rehearsal of the music of the play, which soon drew together an expectant crowd. As in pooays generally, the actors and actresses then by degrees dropped in, each accompanied by a friend or servant to assist in the toilettes, which were made in public; the men and women taking their places on opposite sides of the orchestra. The actors arrayed themselves in robes stiff with tinsel, over which they placed an apron of curious work and cumbrous form, and crowned their heads with a species of tiara shaped like a pagoda. Each actress brought with her a small box containing cosmetics, flowers for adorning her hair, and a little mirror. Seating herself on a mat, she substituted for her ordinary jacket a bespangled gauze coat over her richly woven silken tamein, or skirt, which was tucked so tightly round her limbs that it gave her a shuffling gait. The decorating of her hair with sweet-smelling flowers, the powdering of her face, and the painting of her eyebrows, constituted however the chef-d’œuvre of her toilette, requiring constant appeals to the mirror to ensure its success. She then as a finishing stroke threw around her neck numerous strings of imitation pearl beads, which reached down to nearly the knee, and in each lobe of her ears inserted a solid cylinder either of gold, jade, or amber, called a nodoung. She then smoked a cheroot while unconcernedly awaiting her call. This occupation, indeed, was never pretermitted during the performance, except while the actor’s lips were occupied in declamation or song. The royal prima donna, whose professional reputation is very high, and who sang sweetly, would at the end of a passionate outburst coolly relight her cheroot at the blazing faggot by the tree, and smoke it till her next speech or song. Besides the dramatic performers, the royal tumblers and jugglers appeared every afternoon, and executed surprising feats, which were witnessed by an enthusiastic crowd. The agility of the tumblers was remarkable. One man would, as it were, fly rather than spring over a row of nine boys arranged as if for leap-frog. He also leapt through a square formed by keen-edged knives held by two men, and disposed with the edges at right angles to his progress, and giving barely space for the passage of his body. One remarkable exhibition was that of a girl of sixteen, who possessed most singular elasticity of body. She laid herself on the ground, and, without apparent effort or distress, bent her body backwards till her toes rested on her head, as shown in the illustration taken from a photograph. She also possessed the power of moving the muscles of one side of her face and body, while those of the other side remained in a perfect state of repose. The feats of the jugglers were even more puzzling than those of the Indian performers, and seemed to be very popular with the crowd.
POSTURING GIRL AT MANDALAY.