Arrival at Prome—Prome under English rule—Re-assembly of the Burmese armies—Negotiations for peace—Battle of Meaday—Melloon—Yandabo—Treaty of peace.
The general did not tarry long at Donabew, but pushed forward toward Prome, where the rainy season was to be passed. On his way to that place, he was joined at Tharawa by McCreagh’s reserve column from Rangoon, and the united forces pushed forward for Prome. The charm was now broken, and as the British lines advanced, the prince of Tharawadi, at the head of the opposing army, fell back, and, though strong in numbers, offered no resistance to the progress of the Anglo-Indian army. Prome was reached by the 25th of April, and taken without one round of firing. The indecisive conduct of the prince seems to have arisen partly from a wish to negotiate a peace, which was attempted at Turriss Miu, a few miles below Prome. A native soldier came to the camp with a letter from two of the Atwenwoons, proposing an accommodation; but Sir A. Campbell replied, that at all events he should advance to Prome: and though another letter was received from the Atwenwoons, he continued in his resolve. Luckily for him, he arrived in time to save the place from being stripped of all the necessaries of life, in the same manner as the towns he had before passed had been served. On hearing of the arrival of Campbell, Prince Tharawadi left for Ava, to insist upon a peace being concluded.
The British had only just arrived in time to stand the change of the seasons in this place,—a more favourable spot than the lower country for that purpose. Previous to the setting in of the rainy season, the thermometer had risen in the shade to 110°, but the nights were still cool, and the climate was not unhealthy. The monsoon brought its ordinary effects upon the condition of the European troops, who, though suffering much less severely than at Rangoon, lost almost one-seventh of their number between June and October; the native troops were much more exempt, although not wholly free, from disease. Although the level of the country was higher than in the coast districts, yet the site of the town was so low as to be under water at the rise of the river, and to the east extended for many miles a plain laid out principally in rice-cultivation; south of the town was a range of low hills, crowned by the principal pagodas, and thither some of the troops were removed, when the suburbs in which they had been quartered were found liable to sudden inundations; supplies were in some abundance, and there was comparatively little demand for the active services of the force; it seems probable, therefore, that much of the disease that still prevailed was the consequence of previous exposure and exhaustion, although ascribable in some measure to the effects of climate and of ill-selected quarters for the troops.[311]
It were almost beyond the limits of this volume to enlarge upon the prosperous state of Prome under British rule, and Mr. Mac Farlane’s able sketch will compensate in every way for my own shortcomings. In speaking of an excursion made by Colonel Graham, partly for forage, and partly to calm the fears of the natives themselves, the historian of India continues:[312]—“Almost immediately after their return, the persecuted and dislodged inhabitants of the town poured in from every quarter, some from the woods, bringing their families, their cattle, their waggons, and other property; and some escaped from the military escorts and disjointed corps of the king’s fugitive army. Food and covering were given to the starving and naked; and those who had houses and property were secured in the possession of them. Our British soldiers assisted them in rebuilding their wooden houses and their bamboo huts, and in a very short time Prome had risen from its ashes, a greater town than it had been before the war. As the people were punctually paid for whatever they brought, plentiful bazaars were soon established, and our soldiers lived in comfort and abundance, and unmolested ease; while the ill-conducted armies of the king of Ava, unpaid, unsupplied, and driven up the country, were left to the alternative of starvation or dispersion. The towns and districts in our rear followed the example of the provincial capital, and the banks of the Irawadi below Prome were soon enlivened by the presence of a contented people. An excellent depôt was soon formed at Prome, with supplies sufficient not only for the rainy season, but for the long campaign which possibly might follow. The plains which our soldiers had traversed on their advance up the country without seeing a single bullock were again covered with numerous herds; from every pathway of the deep and extensive forests, which cover far more than half of the country, droves of the finest oxen—the oxen of Pegu —now issued daily. The menthagoes, or hereditary headmen of the districts and chief towns, tendered their allegiance, and were restored to their municipal functions by the British generals. A state of desolation and anarchy once more gave way to order and plenty; and from Rangoon to Prome, from Bassein to Martaban, all classes of natives not only contributed their aid in collecting such supplies as the country afforded, but readily lent their services in facilitating the equipment and movement of military detachments.[313] The only anxiety which the people seemed to find was, that the English would leave them, and give them back to their old masters.”
It was now the rainy season, and the operations of both parties were, to a certain extent, suspended. Little was done by the British, and the Burmese made no preparations against any hostile aggression on our part. The only event that at all did away with the tedium of the period was the discomfiture of the Thekia Wungyee at Old Pegu, where the Taliens, who trusted (a sad reliance, as it afterwards was found) in the British assistance towards the hoped-for object of the recovery of their independence, rose, and seized as many of the officers of his detachment as they could secure; one chief of importance was amongst them,—the Thekia Wungyee himself escaping. Their prize they brought to Rangoon, and delivered to Brigadier Smith.
The successes of the British naturally created the utmost dismay at the metropolis; but the native arrogance of the people, so common in a semi-civilised race, soon caused the usual lofty tone to be assumed, and generals stepped forward, willing to risk a combat with the British army, or pay the hard penalty that awaited an unsuccessful commander. This man was the Pagahm Wungyee, a chief of no little consequence and considerable vanity. A leader found, it was necessary to get an army,—a far more difficult task. It may easily be conceived, that the forces levied in a hasty manner, and without any attention as to their courage, could not be very formidable; and so, indeed, it proved on reconnoissance.
But war costs money, as Sir A. Campbell found, and he was now fully sensible of the fact, that little was to be regained from the enemy. Therefore, he gave the Burmese government another opportunity of coming to a peaceful conclusion, by means of a letter addressed to the prince of Tharawadi, and borne by a servant of that person, who had come under English protection to Prome. However, it was totally unavailing; no answer was received, and therefore the hostile preparations of the king of Ava were continued; and to facilitate these, the commander-in-chief went down to Rangoon in the Diana, and did not return till the 2nd of August. It was satisfactory to find that, in the lower provinces, “a state of desolation and anarchy once more gave way to order and plenty; and from Bassein to Martaban, and Rangoon to Prome, every class of natives not only contributed their aid to collect such supplies as the country could afford, but readily lent their services to the equipment and march of military detachments.”[314]
Soon after, intelligence was received of the approach of the mighty armament of Burmah, amounting to 40,000 men (so it was said), under the command of Memia-Bo, a brother of the king himself. There were also 12,000 at Tongho, under the prince of Tongho. General Cotton was sent to reconnoitre their force, which he discovered at Meaday, on the 15th, on the west bank of the river. Our forces, it may be observed, amounted to but 3,000 men, though 2,000 more were daily expected. The preparations at Meaday were very energetic, and the force amounted to 16,000 men, at the lowest estimate.
At this juncture, a letter of Sir A. Campbell took effect on the Burmese, and on the 6th September, a boat arrived at Prome, with a flag of truce, and two commissioners presented a reply from the general of the Burmese army. Accounts differ as to the terms of the letter, but Wilson is decidedly the best authority; and according to him, the letter was proud and unconciliating, yet a wish was expressed in it for a lasting peace. “Sir Archibald Campbell lost no time in sending two British officers to Meaday, to offer an armistice, and to propose a meeting of commissioners from the two armies. The Burmese prime minister tried hard to delay the meeting. It was found necessary to allow a delay of nearly two weeks, the Wongees protesting that they must wait until full powers arrived from their court. The Keewongee, or prime minister, agreed to be one of the commissioners, and it was finally settled that the meeting should take place at a spot midway between the two armies, and that each party should be accompanied by 600 men, the rank of the Keewongee not permitting him to move with a smaller escort.”[315]
It seemed, however, impossible to come to any determination with this uncivilised, changeable race. On discussing matters, on our demanding compensation, there was much hesitation, and, at last, when the armistice was on the point of expiring, the Wungyee sent these words to Sir A. Campbell:—