Here is the city of Alaungpaya; here Mindôn Min raised the standard of revolt against his brother. Shwebo was always a turbulent district, the seed-bed of sedition; it retained that character long after the annexation. At this time it was fairly quiet; we rode through it with a moderate escort. As we left the town we saw approaching a long line of Burmans, in carts and on foot, men, women, and children. “All these people,” said the Deputy Commissioner with pride, “are coming in to my new bazaar.” On inquiry, we ascertained that they were really all coming in to be vaccinated. This is an example of the good sense and lack of prejudice so often found among Burmans. Years before, the people of Pantanaw had begged for a vaccinator. If proper facilities were provided, the whole population of Burma could be vaccinated without recourse to compulsion. Only the inefficiency and corruption of an underpaid staff and the untrustworthy quality of the lymph have retarded this desirable consummation. I am glad to say that these defects have now been, or are in process of being, remedied.
From Shwebo we crossed the Katha district and came to Kawlin on the verge of the Shan State of Wuntho.[207] This State, inconveniently situated in the midst of regularly administered districts, was left under its native chief till the year 1891. Shortly before the annexation the Sawbwa, a capable truculent man, had been transferred as Wun to Mogaung for the purpose of suppressing a Kachin rising. He accomplished the task with devastating completeness. In Wuntho he was succeeded by his son, a timid creature quite unlike the savage swashbuckler who begot him. Vain efforts had been made to induce the young chief to meet our officers, Mr. Burgess himself and the Kinwun Mingyi having visited Wuntho for the purpose without success. Once the Sawbwa did meet Mr. E. P. Cloney, Extra Assistant Commissioner. The issue was unfortunate. At the conference, owing to a misunderstanding, a tumult arose and the Shan retainers drew their swords. Mr. Cloney’s life would have been sacrificed but for the presence of mind of the Sawbwa, who clasped him in his arms and shielded him from attack. This is the solitary occasion on which the Sawbwa showed any sign of courage or resolution. Only once again he met a British officer, Mr. H. F. P. Hall,[208] afterwards Assistant Commissioner. Though I went to Wuntho with only half a dozen sowars, the Sawbwa declined the meeting and bolted to his remote fortress at Pinlebu. When, owing to the survey of the projected railway-line, the long-existing tension became acute, the Sawbwa, after wantonly attacking the adjacent districts, fled with his father to China. The old man is dead. The son survives in exile in Yunnan, having long ceased to be an object of apprehension or of interest to the Burma Government. The State of Wuntho is merged in the Katha district.
From August, 1888, till the end of 1890, I acted as Chief Secretary, Mr. C. G. Bayne being Secretary, and in succession Mr. A. S. Fleming, Mr. F. C. Gates,[209] and Mr. D. H. R. Twomey,[210] Junior (or Under) Secretary. These were years of abnormal stress in the office, which was still undermanned. The appointment of Mr. Fryer to be Financial Commissioner afforded us some relief. But though a good deal of his work was done in direct communication with the Chief Commissioner, part of the revenue business necessarily was transacted by the Secretariat. These were my really strenuous years. The practice of dictation to shorthand writers was not yet in vogue; I have never acquired the habit. Day after day, Sundays included, I did my spell of work in office and then wrote on far into the night at home, kept awake by coffee and protected from mosquitoes by Burman cheroots. Six hours of sleep sufficed. Though I wrote rapidly, I was not a quick worker. I dare say other men would have done as much with less effort. Life in the Secretariat presented few incidents which seem worthy of record. The real work was being done in the districts, in the Shan States, in the Chin Hills.
These years witnessed the completion of the pacification and settlement of Upper Burma, and what may be called the resettlement of Lower Burma. The details of the work in Upper Burma have been described in Sir Charles Crosthwaite’s book.[211] The organization of the military and civil police was perfected by the administrative ability of General Stedman, the Inspector-General, who was a tower of strength to the Government. Dacoit bands were dispersed, their leaders captured or killed, the rank and file in many cases allowed to surrender and return to their homes on suitable terms. Admirable, unobtrusive work was done by military, civil, and police officers, who by degrees bore down opposition and broke the forces of disorder. The most potent instrument in the final establishment of settled administration was the village law planned by Sir Charles Crosthwaite himself. This invaluable enactment created the village as the unit of administration, and placed the village headman in a position of authority and responsibility. He became the local judge and magistrate, with limited but sufficient power to enforce his orders. As far as possible the office was made hereditary, but the people were consulted in the appointment. Henceforth the post, though not one of great emolument, instead of being avoided, was eagerly sought.[212] The village law did much more than elevate the headman. It enforced the joint responsibility of villagers for offences committed within their borders, for stolen property traced to the village tract. The Deputy Commissioner was legally empowered to require villages to be duly fenced. All able-bodied men were bound under penalties to turn out to resist any unlawful attack. Above all, subject to carefully devised safeguards, power was given to the local authorities to order the temporary removal of persons found to be in sympathy with outlaws. No measure was more efficacious than this to secure the destruction of dacoit gangs by depriving them of support and sustenance. These are among the most important provisions of the village law which has done more than gun and sword to assure permanent peace. The revenue system was formalized as far as our limited knowledge allowed on the lines of Burmese law and custom. Meanwhile, the border lands were not neglected. Of the Shan States some mention will be made presently. The Chins might have lived unmolested in their hills, but they could not give up their rooted habit of raiding villages in the plains. The plundering of peaceful hamlets, the carrying off of living captives and the heads of the slain, provoked inevitable reprisals. Happily the policy of slaying, burning, and scuttling was not adopted. After laborious operations, the Chins were thoroughly subjugated and disarmed. Military police posts were established in their midst. They are now peaceful and amenable to law. The names honourably associated with the arduous task of settling these rugged hills are those of Major F. D. Raikes, C.I.E., General Sir W. Penn Symons, Mr. B. S. Carey, C.I.E., Mr. D. Ross, Mr. D. J. C. Macnabb,[213] Captain F. M. Rundall,[214] Mr. E. O. Fowler, and Mr. H. N. Tuck. Here, too, Captain Le Quesne[215] won the Victoria Cross by gallantly tending a wounded officer under fire from a stockade. The Kachin Hills and the State of Wuntho alone remained for settlement in later years.
No detailed story of the restoration of order in Lower Burma has yet been given to the world; nor does it lie within the scheme of these personal reminiscences to supply the omission. The outbreak of disturbance at the end of 1885 has already been mentioned. For years crime continued to be rampant. A few figures may be given. In 1886 the number of dacoities was 2,183; in 1887, 1,387; in 1888, 695; in 1889, 332; in 1890, 181. Serious risings there were: one in Tavoy in 1888, quelled by Colonel Adamson and Mr. Twomey; one in Sandaway, sternly repressed by Mr. Bernard Houghton, who at the outset nearly fell a victim to the insurgents. But in the period now under reference it was not so much a question of dealing, as in Upper Burma, with organized resistance on a large scale as of suppressing countless small, isolated gangs. The strict enforcement of the Village Act, framed on the lines indicated above, and vigorous disarmament carried out in the face of ignorant and factious criticism, were among the most efficient means of restoring peace. The plan of placing a defined area in charge of a specially selected officer invested with large powers for the suppression of crime was tried with excellent effect. Pyuntazá, in Shwegyin, was reduced to order by Mr. Todd-Naylor, to whom the Chief Commissioner gave a free hand with abundant support. Boldest, most strenuous, most untiring of men, traversing vast distances with incredible speed on the scantiest fare, facing every danger and enduring every hardship, there, and soon afterwards in Tharrawaddy, Mr. Todd-Naylor earned great and well-merited renown. For the first, and so far the only, time in its history, Tharrawaddy was at rest. In every district solid work was done, and by degrees normal conditions were established.
An event which I recall with interest was the visit to Rangoon of the celebrated traveller, Mr. Colborne Baber, of the China Consular Service, deputed to Burma in connection with the proposed demarcation of the Chinese boundary. Baber was one of the elect of travellers. Not only did he make hazardous and scientifically important journeys, but he also had the gift of letters, so that his records have a place in literature. A man of genius, a born explorer, of various and versatile accomplishments, he was, I believe, a sinologist of distinction, and certainly a scholar of no mean attainment. Before proceeding to Bhamo to study the boundary question on the spot, he was our guest for some days in Rangoon. These are days of happy memory, made bright by his luminous and inspiring talk, his distinguished and attractive personality. He seemed to live principally on cigarettes, and cared too little for a body not physically strong. Early in 1890 he died at Bhamo, mainly from weakness caused by his own neglect of material comfort. His premature death was a loss to the State, and a lasting grief to his friends.
More than once in these two years I visited Mandalay in attendance on the Chief Commissioner, sometimes occupying my old quarters in the Palace, sometimes enjoying the hospitality of Government House. One trivial incident illustrates the state of the country even close to the capital of Upper Burma. Rather late one night a friend[216] called me out of my quarters to go to see a fire. Having seen as many fires as would satisfy the most morbid craving, I cannot think why this fire attracted me. However, we went. As usual, the scene was much farther off than we thought. Passing out of the city gate, we walked for some miles across the fields till we came at last to a village where houses were still blazing. It had been plundered and burnt by Bo To, the most prominent leader then afoot in the district. The police were there before us, and the dacoits had disappeared. As we were alone, armed only with walking-sticks, perhaps it was lucky that we did not arrive an hour or two sooner.
The last day of February, 1889, saw the formal opening of the railway from Toungoo to Mandalay. The occasion was celebrated with some pomp, Sir Charles Eliott,[217] K.C.S.I., Public Works Member, representing the Government of India. Later in the year, during the absence of Sir Charles Crosthwaite on privilege leave for three months, Mr. A. P. MacDonnell,[218] Home Secretary to the Government of India, acted as Chief Commissioner. Mr. MacDonnell was, of course, innocent of any knowledge of the country or the people. I doubt whether this brief interlude of administering a strange Province could have been a satisfactory experience to him. I am under the impression that the Chief Secretary’s work was materially increased.
At the end of 1889 Burma was honoured by the visit of His Royal Highness Prince Albert Victor of Wales (the late Duke of Clarence), who spent some days in Rangoon and Mandalay. The Royal visit was highly appreciated by the Burmese, as well as by the European community, and was celebrated with much demonstration of genuine spontaneous loyalty. Chief of His Royal Highness’s staff was the late Sir Edward Bradford, whose high qualities it were superfluous to praise.