“Mons. Dupleix, governor of Pondicherry, a man whose comprehensive mind perceived with clearness whatever could benefit his nation at this juncture, deeply engaged in the important contest that was ultimately to determine the sovereignty of the East, being aware of the consequence of maintaining an influence in Pegu,[220] had, notwithstanding the exigencies of his own situation, equipped two ships, the Galathié and Diligent, vessels of force, well manned and armed, and sent them, with a supply of military stores, to the assistance of the Peguers.”[221]

The Galathié speedily arrived off the Burmese coast, but in consequence of mistaking the mouth of the Setang for that of the Rangoon embouchement, it did not get there in time. Alompra’s spies, however, had already informed him of the approach of the inimical vessel, and when the captain sent up a boat for a pilot, it was seized. Alompra, then, after forcing Bourno to write a letter, encouraging the Galathié to come up the river, sent it with a pilot. Unfortunately for the French commander, he fell into the trap, and on arriving at Rangoon, he first learned in what position he was placed, and how fatal the matter had been to him. The Galathié was then seized, the arms and ammunition brought on shore, and the papers proved that these supplies were intended for the Peguers.[222] Alompra, upon being assured of this treachery, ordered the instant execution of Bourno, Martine, and the rest of the French prisoners. “This sanguinary mandate,” concludes Symes,[223] “was obeyed with unrelenting promptitude; a few seamen and Lascars alone escaped, and these were preserved for no other purpose than to be rendered of use in the further prosecution of the war, and survived but to experience all the miseries of hopeless bondage.”

The Diligent was more fortunate. A storm had compelled her to take shelter at the Nicobar islands, where she was obliged to remain some time. Adverse reports spread quickly, and the captain soon heard the sad fate of his countrymen, and he returned to Pondicherry with the evil tidings. The time had now passed, and Peguese supremacy and French ascendancy in Burmah might be numbered among the past events of history.

It is strange, with the savage character that the man ever bore, that the French were the only victims on this occasion; and it certainly argues more in favour of his justice than almost any action of his life. Policy, too, prevented him from offending the English at the time, though it is useless to disguise the fact, that they deserved quite as much, and even more than the French. The measures of Bourno had been infinitely more decided than those of the English, and an open enemy is ever more of a friend than a treacherous, creeping friend. But the tragedy was not at an end.

Though the fall of Syriam “had determined the fate of the Peguers,” yet they did not wholly give up hope. I have already in a former chapter given a description of the capital of Pegu,[224] which I need not therefore repeat; but still the following passage from Symes will prove of use in comprehending the details of the siege:[225]

“Situated on an extensive plain, Pegue was surrounded with a high and solid wall, flanked by small towers, and strengthened on each face by demi-bastions, equidistant; a broad ditch contained about three feet depth of water; wells or reservoirs supplied the town; the stupendous pagoda of Shoemadoo,[226] nearly centrical, built on an artificial eminence, and inclosed by a substantial wall of brick, served as a citadel, and afforded an enlarged view of the adjacent country. The extent, however, of the works, the troops necessary to defend them, and the number of inhabitants within the walls, operated to the disadvantage of the besieged, and aggravated the distresses they were shortly to endure.”

For Alompra, evidently perceiving the excellence of the plan pursued at Syriam in reducing his foes, again determined to await the natural course of events, and let starvation do its work in the ranks of the enemy. The siege of Pegu by Alompra is not dissimilar to the siege of Mexico by Cortés, and indeed, the whole progress of the movements of Alompra are worthy of comparison with the acts of the conqueror of Mexico. Alike indomitable in character, energetic and swift in action, and fitfully cruel, though not insensible to the gentler voice of remonstrance, they stand as nearly side by side, as the semi-civilised, impulsive, and naturally politic Oriental, and the sternly educated, calculating, though rapidly acting European can. This is not the place for such a discussion, or many interesting coincidences might doubtless be elicited from a comparison of both their lives.

As the Mexicans could look down from their teocalli, and behold the relentless band of Spain around their walls, so could the Peguers look from the pagoda of Shoemadoo, and behold the natural foes of their race waiting without, like sheriff’s officers, until the beleaguered were too weak to hold the door against the besiegers. Meinla-Mein-goung was sent with a powerful detachment to commence the circumvallation of the town, and in a few days the Devoted to Buddha followed with the remainder of the army, and “sat down before the city,” in the month of January, 1757.

For two months the Burmans persevered in this plan, and, ever vigilant, allowed none to escape. The immense multitude of Peguers, though but a small remnant of the nation, caused want to be soon felt; discontent and mutiny were the consequence of the scarcity of provision, and it seemed as if the nation would fly to arms against itself. The danger of open revolt became every day more imminent. The royal family and officers looked wistfully and anxiously from the pagodas, watching for the first intimation of any movement among their relentless besiegers. But it was all in vain. At this juncture, Beinga Della summoned an assembly of all the family and chiefs of any consequence. Apporaza, the king’s brother; Chouparea, his son-in-law and nephew; and a general named Talabaan, were among the principal persons in the assembly. The king, after laying before them the utter hopelessness of resistance; after reminding them of the differences existing between parties in the streets of Pegu itself; after calling upon them to avoid, by the best means in their power, the dreadful consequences of still stubbornly prolonging their own sufferings, and feeding the rage of their enemies, advised a timely submission, and offered to present his unmarried daughter to Alompra as a means of deprecating his anger. Such an act of homage, he concluded, was the only way he perceived of turning away the resentment of the Burman conqueror.

All heard this proposition with sorrow; but there was nothing for it but to acquiesce. One chief present, however, ventured to remonstrate, and this was the valiant general Talabaan. He rose, and inveighing bitterly against such a course, reprobated the idea of submission; he concluded a short but comprehensive speech, “with an offer to sally forth at the head of six hundred chosen followers, and either raise the siege, and procure an honourable peace, or perish in the attempt; provided, in the event of success, the king would promise to bestow on him his daughter as the reward of valour”[227]—for Talabaan secretly loved the maiden.